But that’s not Austin Crawford. He may come on strong, but in a playful, harmless way that only seems to endear him to most.
But somehow I forgot all about that when I saw him flirting with Elliot.
At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to pick the kid up by the scruff of his neck and carry him out of the treatment room.
He jabbered on like the chatterbox he is the entire walk to my office, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside my mind. Once we’re inside, I close the door. Austin is stillblabbering on about the Florida right winger who didn’t appreciate the tips he gave him.
“I mean, I thought ‘you should try skating faster’ was solid advice, but I guess he didn’t feel the same.” He settles into the chair opposite my desk with all the ease and confidence of someone on a late night talk show. “So what’s up, Coach? What did you want to talk to me about?”
I want you to stop flirting with the girl I like.
Jesus. I wasn’t this cringe in junior high. Why am I acting like such an adolescent?
It suddenly occurs to me that if I tell Austin not to speak to female staff like that, there will be follow up questions. After all, he’s been this way since he joined the organization as our hothead rookie last year. What cause would I have to reprimand him for his behaviour now, as opposed to sixteen months ago?
No. Addressing it will make it seem like someone has complained about him. Knowing the kid, he’ll go into fix-it mode, trying to figure out who he’s offended so he can make amends, and this entire thing will unravel before me. Because Austin isn’t the problem. I am.
“How are you feeling?” I ask instead. “You took some hard hits last week.”
“Ah, I’m fine.” His face splits into a cocky grin. “Back-to-back encounters with some guys that were upset by how much better I am at hockey and didn’t know how to use their words to express themselves. But you know me. I always bounce back. I’m like that Coldplay song. ‘I get knocked down, but I get up again. You’re never gonna keep me down.’”
I frown. Even with my limited knowledge of pop culture, I’m fairly certain that’s not right, but I don’t care enough to question it.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Coach,” he continues, completely unbothered. “I’m indestructible.”
I fight the urge to shake my head at him. Was I ever that naive? Yeah. Yeah I was. Earlier in my career I thought nothing could take me down. I was the best and nothing would stop me from being the best.
“We’re all indestructible, Austin.” My voice comes out harder than I want it to. “Until we’re not.”
For the first time since I met the kid his trademark confidence wavers. His face falls and his swagger falters.
“I’m sorry, Coach.” His remorse sounds genuine. “I didn’t mean?—”
“I know,” I wave my hand, dismissing the words that I know had no harmful intent. “I just want you to take care of yourself. You’re a gifted player, Crawford. One of my best. But you still need to protect yourself and make smart choices. Because all this can be taken away. Just like that.” I snap my fingers, the hollow noise sounding loud in the office.
He nods quickly. “I understand. I’ll be smarter.” His throat bobs and it strikes just how young he is. When I was twenty-four, I thought I knew everything.
After Austin leaves I rest my head on the back of my chair and close my eyes. Images of Elliot’s smile as she watched Austin and Ben bickering back and forth. Her long blonde hair tied up in a lopsided bun, secured by a hot pink scrunchie, a beacon in a room full of black, blue, and grey.
There’s a knock against the open door. I crack my eyes open to find Noah leaning lazily on the frame, arms crossed, expression blank.
“You okay, Ace?”
I sit up straighter in my chair, forcing myself into Coach mode, sliding the leadership mask back into place. “Of course. Why?”
“You came into the treatment room pretty hot, is all.”
Shit. I’d hoped I hadn’t drawn too much attention. “I didn’t realize you were in there,” I admit. Not that it wouldhave mattered. The second I’d seen Crawford making googly eyes at Elliot, the rest of the room faded.
“Yeah, I was working with Luke in the back corner.” His eyes sweep the space. “I don’t see a body, so I’m guessing Crawford made it out on his own two feet?”
“Of course he did.” I bristle at the implication. “I just wanted to talk to him about the hits he took last week.”
“Ah.” Noah’s mouth curves in a knowing smirk. “Is that it?”
The laughter in his tone grates. “Yes.” My reply is clipped. “What did you think was happening?”
“I thought you were reaming him out for flirting with your girl.”
