My younger sisters used to call me the marshmallow girl, and for good reason.
I’m still smiling, relishing those memories, when I spot the first of the goalies.
My goalies.
They aren’t dressed in their full gear today, but I’d recognize our veteran goalie anywhere. It’s no surprise that Sidney Howe is the first one out. He’s the most senior, at thirty-seven, though it’s been a while since he’s played on our first string. JJ was drafted out of high school and called up from the AHL after only one season. In his first season with the Bolts, he and Sidney played pretty equally. These days, JJ plays two games to every one of Howe’s. While Sidney is a great goalie, JJ is phenomenal.
Not that I’ll ever tell him that. As his coach, I have no intention of coddling him. I won’t coddle any of the players or inflate their egos. Ifthey’re looking for someone to tell them how great they are, they can chat with the puck bunnies.
My goal is to help them become the best they can be. To study tapes so they’re prepared for every opponent. To guide them in strength training and stretching, which I’m exceptionally qualified for since it’s what I focused on in college. I incorporate a lot of yoga into my personal training, and in the next couple of weeks, every one of our goalies will be implementing it as well.
Sidney heads our way, saying hello to both Cade and Brooks and then giving me a friendly grin. “Welcome, Coach. Excited to have you.”
This certainly isn’t the first time we’ve met, but I appreciate the welcome.
He nods to the younger guy trailing him. “This is Jarred Kane. This is his third year on the AHL team. Jarred, this is our new coach, Adeline Langfield.”
Jarred is shorter than Sidney yet still a little taller than I am. He gives me a crooked smile, showing off a chipped front tooth, and instantly, I find myself at ease. I typically have no trouble sensing a person’s aura through their eyes, and Jarred’s brown irises are calm.
As I shake his hand, it feels as though I’m being watched, so I covertly scan the guys around us. Over Jarred’s shoulder, I find the blue eyes that seem to haunt me everywhere I go lately, and they’re focused intently on me.
Just as I could sense Jarred’s calm aura through his eyes, I can see the war in JJ’s. And I have no idea what’s caused it.
He stomps over to me, bypassing Cade and Brooks, who both try to say hello. “Can we talk?”
“Excuse me?No.” I brush him off.
Huffing, he clutches my arm. His hands are so big that his fingers touch, and I don’t have twigs for forearms. I’m strong. I have muscles. Though they have nothing on his.
“JJ,” I grit out in warning.
I can feel the scrutiny of every person in the arena. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into him, but this is not how I want to start my tenure here. It’s day one, and he’s already making me look weak. Fromthe outside, it might even look like we’re having a lovers’ quarrel. Women in sports have always gotten a bad rap. So many people believe that we’re only here to bag ourselves a player. It’s a stereotype I’ve worked hard to avoid my whole career, and within minutes of meeting my subordinates, this asshole is peeing all over me.
“We need to talk,” he says, voice low. Deadly serious.
His tone and the way his jaw is clenched, all angles, hard and angry, put me on alert, and my annoyance drains away.
“Did something happen to Avery?”
He jolts back, horrified. “What? No. This isn’t about me.”
That’s all it takes for the aggravation to rush back in. “Stop talking in riddles and let go of me.”
A dark laugh floats around us. “Looks like some things never change.”
I suck in a breath at the familiar and completely unwelcome voice. Meeting JJ’s eyes, I finally understand the problem.
His blues are burning with rage. While a small part of me, buried deep, deep down, is desperate to soften, to give in and be thankful for the anger he feels on my behalf, I can’t do that. I’m his coach. This ismyproblem.
So I force myself to steel my spine and look over his shoulder, where I meet the cocky smirk of a man I never wanted to see again. The man responsible for my current predicament. He’s the sole reason I’m coaching rather than playing in the NHL.
Dirk Orr.
FOUR
JJ
I will kill this motherfucker.
