I blink and force myself to answer, “What do you think?”
Everyone’s watching me now, even Coach Hart. Even he knows I can’t fucking stand his kid.
“Want to share with the class?” Coach asks, tilting his head.
“Nah.” I risk another glance toward the stands, and she’s staring right at me, her expression unreadable.
“Anyway, that was good maneuvering, Cross. Play like you have a chip on your shoulder in the game. Got it?”
“Yes, sir. Always do.” It’s permanently attached at this point.
“Now, I have a final announcement to make before I release you. As you know, this year marks the fiftieth anniversary of the franchise.”
I barely process his words as winter light catches Kendall just right, making her glow. This time, she glances away, which feels like a small victory that I shouldn’t care about.
“The owner wanted to do something special to commemorate the occasion,” Coach continues. “He commissioned an artist to create a series of portraits that will be displayed in the arena, and a few special pieces will be auctioned for charity.”
“Ridiculous,” I mutter.
“What was that?” Coach asks, scanning the group. “Someone got something to say?”
Everyone stays quiet. I already know where this is going.
“The artist who was hired isextremelytalented,” Coach says, and there’s unmistakable pride in his voice that only a father could have. “She’s been featured in galleries across Europe and has returned to New York for this project, but I’m hoping she stays for good.” He gestures toward her. “I’m thrilled to announce that my daughter, Kendall, will be painting your portraits.”
She rises with a perfect smile and waves. “Hi, Angels.”
Kendall’s poised and professional, radiating kindness that makes people trust her. She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Several of my teammates straighten their stances, already imagining a chance with her. They can get fucked though because Coach has threatened to trade guys for less. When it comes to his daughter, he’s ruthless.
“She’ll be scheduling individual sessions with every one of you until the end of the season,” Coach says. “You’ll make time for this project with zero excuses. If your name is on the schedule, you show up.”
I can’t be in the same room as her. Not without losing my mind or my career.
“This is some nepo baby bullshit,” I say under my breath, loud enough for the guys beside me to hear.
Hunter snorts. Smiley chokes on a laugh. Even Wyatt’s mouth twitches before he catches himself.
Coach’s head snaps toward us with flared nostrils. “What’s so damn funny?”
Silence crashes over the rink, and the laughter dies.
Kendall’s staring down at me, and maybe I didn’t say it as low as I thought. Her expression stays neutral, but I catch the flicker of frustration in her eyes.
She heard me. Good. I want her to know exactly what I think of her waltzing back into my space like this. She chose to take this job. She could’ve said no and done something else. Instead, she chose this, probably to antagonize me. It’s her MO.
“Let me make one thing very clear.” Coach’s voice drops to a growl. “This is aprofessionalcommission. Kendall is here to do a job, and you will treat her with the same respect that you have for me.” He pauses, letting the weight of his words seep into my bones. “And while we’re at it, my daughter is off-limits. Are we clear?”
“Dad,” Kendall whispers, but he ignores her.
A few guys nod.
Callan clears his throat. “Yes, Coach.”
I say nothing.
“Any questions?”
Silence.
