“Yeah, looks like you still have a little pain,” Carter McKnight, our captain, said coming up beside me.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“You could always see Bianca.” Logan Keller, our left wing, winked. “Give the coach something else to be pissed at you about.”
Bianca had just started with the team as our head athletic coach. While beautiful, she was also Alan’s daughter, and he had drilled each one of us, stating that any player who placed a hand on her would have to answer for his actions. While I might like to piss off the coach every single day, I also valued my life.
With sweat dripping from my head, I grabbed the towel that was passed to me, quickly wiping my face and the back of my neck, ignoring the constant ache that was starting.
“Nope, unnecessary. Probably just a little stiff from not using it that much this summer. I took a lot of downtime. I’m sure it will loosen up after a couple of massage treatments.”
I grabbed my water bottle, squirting a couple of mouthfuls into my mouth, and made my way down the tunnel to the dressing room, followed by the rest of the guys. The pain had seemed to get worse as I pulled my gear off. I definitely needed heat or ice or some combination of both, and the sooner I could get that on, the better I’d be. I shoved the door to the locker room open and was just about to enter when I heard Coach Alan yell my name.
“Callahan, my office, now!”
“What’s that about?” Carter questioned, looking over at me.
I shrugged. “Damned if I know. He probably wants to give me another lecture about my temper”
“Would serve you right after the meeting the other night.” Cromwell chuckled.
I sighed, dropping my helmet in my cubby and removing my skates.
“Ah, in the doghouse again? I don’t know if we’d recognize a season if you weren’t in trouble for something.” Logan, also known as Kells, chuckled as he too sat down.
“What the hell else is new? If I’m not fucking up out there, I’m fucking up somewhere else. Can’t seem to break that cycle. Regardless, he can wait to yell at me until I shower.” I chuckled.
I’d stripped out of my gear and grabbed my towel, wrapping it around my waist, about to head to the shower when the door to the dressing room opened and Cooper, our assistant, walked in.
“Callahan, you were told to?—”
“Yeah, go immediately,” I muttered. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to shower first.”
“I don’t mind, I’d prefer it actually, but Alan does, so get going,” he barked, leaving the dressing room without another word.
“Guess it’s important.” I chuckled as I threw a T-shirt over my head, careful of my shoulder. I slipped on my gray sweats, dropping the towel to the ground, and walked out the door, making my way down the hall to Alan’s office as I listened to the guys holler behind me in the locker room.
I hadn’t even knocked on the door and he was ushering me inside, closing the door behind me. Out of all the times I’d been called into his office, I couldn’t remember one where he’d closed the door before I’d even sat down.
“Sir?” I said, waiting for him to yell at me.
“Sit down, Evan. This won’t take long.”
I lowered myself into the chair, my mind racing through the possibilities of why I was here. Pre-season had just started. There had been no controversies, unless someone had complained about something. It was possible that someone had mentioned the stiffness in my shoulder, but I highly doubted that. The only other reason I could think of was that there was a trade rumor I hadn’t heard of and he wanted to clear the air.
“Evan, I need a favor.”
I lifted my head and looked at Coach Alan as he took a seat behind his desk. He didn’t ask for favors. He gave orders, set expectations, and demanded excellence. A favor implied negotiation, and Coach, well, he didn’t negotiate.
“What do you need?” I asked.
Coach cleared his throat.
“As you know, Bianca is working with the team, and she has been staying with me until her condo is ready. This morning we got news that Bianca’s condo flooded. She needs temporary housing for a bit,” Coach said, leaning back in his chair, not taking his eyes from mine. “You have a spare room. She will stay with you.”
It took a minute for my brain to process what he’d just said.
“I’m sorry, what?”
