Page 93 of Her Coach

And as I stood there, gawking at the Jumbotron, the concrete stadium steps rumbled beneath my feet as the half-packed stadium burst forth with borderline maniacal cheers for our winning team.

37

COLTON

I stood there, staring up at the score board.

Holy fuck, we did it.

The boys hopped around me on their skates, clapping their hands above my head. Some of them jostled me, wrapping their arms around my shoulders and shoving me closely against them. We all made our way back to the locker room, the guys cheering at the top of their lungs.

I had things I needed to say first.

“Aaaaall right!” I bellowed over their heads once the locker room door closed behind me.

Their cheering immediately ceased before they dropped down onto the wooden benches in front of their lockers. I clasped my hands behind my back and slowly trolled my way to the front, turning myself around to face them.

I turned my attention to Rhett and Jett before I lowered my voice to a deadly level. “I don’t give a flying fuck if someone on the opposing team is dry-humping your goddamn leg in front of the whole fucking stadium. You don’t start fights on my fucking ice, and you don’t engage useless motherfuckers start them, either.” My eyes slid to Jett specifically. “And if you ever get your ass thrown back into a penalty box during a game as important as this one? You’re going to find out exactly how replaceable you are for the rest of the season. Do you hear me?”

Rhett and Jett both swallowed hard before they nodded in unison.

Then a shadow of a grin tugged at my cheeks.

And that’s all it took.

"We fucking won, my guys!" Moose exclaimed as he shot to his feet and pumped his fist in the air.

"Fucking 3 to 1, boys! Them's good odds in a betting ring!" Frank yelled out.

Rhett stood up on the bench and pointed straight at me. "Yo — that's our coach right there! That's our fucking coach!"

The room lost it. Someone threw a towel. Jett knocked over a trash can just for something to do with his energy. Moose got me in a bear hug before I could do anything about it and nearly took me off my feet, which had never happened to me in my life and I was not going to acknowledge it.

"Get off me," I said.

He did not get off me.

"Moose."

He squeezed harder.

"Moose, I swear to God⁠—"

The room was still going. Guys slapping each other, yelling, Jett doing something inadvisable on top of a bench that I chose not to look at directly. I let it run for a minute because they'd earned it. I didn't expect to win this game. It's why I hadn't made them dress in suits. A team had to earn that right, sure, but that wasn't the whole reason. I didn't want them getting their hopes up. Didn't want them expecting too much from themselves after only a couple of weeks with a new coach.

Fucking hell, did they show me up.

"All right, all right!" I barked when the noise peaked. "Settle down."

It took them a while to simmer, but I gave them the space. They'd just won their opening game of the season. They could have a minute.

"Now," I said as I paced slowly up and down the locker room aisle, looking each of them in the eye, "we just have to do that eighteen more times this season if we want a championship."

Rhett spoke up from the bench. "Do you really think we have a shot at something like that?"

"Yeah, Coach," Frank said with a shake of his head. "This team hasn't taken a championship home since⁠—"

I turned to him, placed my hands on my knees, and dipped down to get into his face. "Listen to me and listen well, because I'm only going to say this once. That entire stadium didn't think any of you would pull a win out of your asses today." I reared back up and looked around the room. "There wasn't a single person in those stands who thought we'd win tonight." A smirk pulled across my face. "Do I think we've got a shot at the championship? That's a question for the end of the season. But do I think we can win next week? Hell fucking yes I do."