Nat nods; she understands it too. “We can be so real, Ells.”
“So I am, then? Your only girlfriend.”
“You’re my only girlfriend, angel.”
I can’t fight the tilt of my lips, the blossoming smile she causes to erupt on my cheeks.
She softly kisses the tip of my nose. “Shower with me?”
“You don’t even need to ask.”
Nat laughs, lifting out of bed before tugging on my hand and pulling me with her.
CHAPTER NINE
HUDSON
6 Months Later
“I’msure you’re all familiar with my friend Garrett here,” I say to my players when everyone finally settles in the locker room before we head out onto the ice for practice. “He’ll be assisting for the duration of our playoff run. Nobody give him any shit, because we’re in desperate need of his expertise.”
Most of the boys stare at Garrett, slack-jawed and in awe. Garrett Anders is a Stanley Cup champion, league MVP, the NHL’s Resident Bad Boy, and my best friend since college. We played together our first three years in the league before I tore my radiator cuff for the second time. The recovery process was long and brutal, my game suffered, and I never played the same again. It wasn’t long before my career deteriorated right alongside me.
Garrett went on to play for another decade after me and retired just last year. I know he’s been bored without the constant travel and consistent schedule. He primarily residesoutside Boston, where he played for the majority of his career, but without a family to tie him down, he had no problem flying out here to Washington to work with me for the remainder of the season.
We made it to the National Championship last year and won. There were talks at the beginning of this year about our shot at a repeat appearance after Bodhi transferred schools. I’ve been hellbent on proving, even if only to myself, that we don’t need him. Nobody outside of Ellie, Natalia, and I know Bodhi was the other end of Candace’s affair. I haven’t even told Garrett that much, because, to be honest, I’m still fucking humiliated by it.
What kind of man loses his wife to a twenty-one year old with a mullet?
“Alright, I know he’s pretty, but stop ogling the man and get your asses on the ice,” I bark. Garrett’s objectively handsome in a classic kind of way—tousled blonde hair, hazel eyes, clean shaven face. His boyish charm makes it damn near impossible not to be reeled in by him.
The team immediately jumps from their places, hustling out of the locker room and through the tunnel that leads to the arena. Garrett and I follow them out, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement beside me.
“I can’t wait to whip these boys into shape.”
“Alright.” I laugh. “Slow your roll. You’re just observing today. Give them a chance to get used to you. They’re going to be nervous.”
“You know what else is nerve-wracking?” he counters. “The flashing lights and screaming fans in a championship game. They better get fucking used to it.”
“I know, I know.” I scratch my beard, laughing again as we make it to the rink. “We’ll go easy on them today, and tomorrow, we’ll start laying down the…”
Words die on my tongue as we reach the edge of the ice. A fierce flash of dark hair whips past the boards in front of me, and I register “Valerie” by Amy Winehouse blasting through the arena.
Her routine for Worlds in two weeks.
Natalia shimmies as she glides across the ice, beaming so widely, it’s blinding. She’s like a living sparkle. Circling the rink, she heads back toward me, eyes locking on mine as she skates backward, slowly extending her left leg behind her. Just as she breezes past me, offering a quick wink, she throws herself into a lutz—a term I’ve only recently learned since spending so much time with her. She spins twice, and my stomach hollows out, time suspended as I wait for her to land. As always, she does it flawlessly, her right foot hitting the ice in perfect sync with the music, her limbs graceful as she drifts with effortless precision.
The music dies out as she finishes her routine, and it’s quiet for only a fraction of a second before wild clapping erupts. I realize now that a pin could’ve dropped in this arena, every person here entirely fixated on Nat’s performance—the skating team, my boys, the coaching staff.
All our heads whip toward the stands, finding Ellie about ten rows up, standing as she claps and smiles, all her focus on Natalia. Breathing heavily, still in her final pose, Nat beams right back at her.
I begin clapping too, nudging Garrett beside me, and soon enough, every player on my team follows suit. Natalia is a stunner, a showstopper; she was meant to perform. It’s a great effort to stop myself from pulling her into me and kissing her hard when she finally exits the ice.
“Sorry, Coach,” she purrs. “I didn’t mean to take up any of your ice time.”
“It’s hard to be upset when you’re performing like that, Natalia,” I say, trying my absolute fucking hardest not to crossthe line of professionalism. A gleam of sweat accents her smooth skin, reminding me of the way she looks after I’ve just finished fucking her. “You’ll represent the university well at Worlds.”
She nods, winking at me once more before she meets Ellie at the base of the stands. Ellie grabs her face, pulling her in for an intense kiss before whispering something against her cheek that I’m sure is a form of praise.
