“Our old coach would browbeat us,” Pells shrugged. “I didn’t like getting yelled at—almost as much as I hated losing—but sometimes we deserved it. Sure as shit didn’t make us want to do better for him.” He eyed Arts. “I wouldn’t saywe don’t think we can win. But I would say we’re a long way off. Management brought you in to fix this—” He flapped hishands in the air.
“Clusterfuck?” Lens winced. “Too damn many goals tonight.” He’d had five scored against him, and if the frown on his face was any indication, he was taking the loss hard.
“Tomorrow morning.” Coach again surveyed all of us. “I do have faith in this team. I believe you can win. Is this going to be easy? Probably not. Am I going to bust your asses? You bet. Have a good night, and I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, he strode out.
I’d love to bustyourass. See it red with bruises and welts. Feel the skin burning under my hand. Have you begging me—whether to stop or to keep going would be, of course, entirely up to me. I want?—
“You’re going to sit here all night?” Lous slapped me on the back.
“No. Just…not in a hurry. I need to go over the game in my mind.”
He laughed. “What you need is to get laid. There’s a club over in Langley?—”
I shook my head. “No way. I want to regroup and have my head on straight for tomorrow.”
“Oh, well, not everyone is straight at this bar.” With that, he headed into the showers.
Since we’d done our post-game media—painful as it had been—we just needed to get into our suits and head home. A bar wherenot everyone is straightsounded nice, but I wasn’t going to go. If only because I’d have to beg a ride and then would be stuck if I wanted to leave. I had no idea where Langley was or how much a cab would cost.
By the time I emerged from the locker room, most of the guys were gone.
I caught sight of Coach talking to Amy and Tori. Likely they’d have plenty to say to each other.
Still, Coach looked my way and met my gaze. “You need a lift back to the hotel?”
“Uh, I can walk. Or grab a cab.”
“It’s pouring rain.” He tossed me his keys. “I’ll be there in five.”
Whether this was appropriate or not, I wasn’t going to be rude and toss them back.
His SUV was easy to pick out in the nearly empty lot. I didn’t see any of the guys, so I didn’t need to worry about that. Of course, most of them knew I’d gotten a lift from Coach last night, so another tonight wouldn’t be all that weird.
Or so you tell yourself.
I disarmed the alarm and got into the front passenger seat.
My mind swirled with all the shit of the last three hours.
The horrible game.
The showdown between Coach and some players who clearly weren’t happy he was here.
And what was with that, anyway? Surely they weren’t giving him attitude because he was gay. I’d researched him before the game. Should’ve long before now, but he hadn’t hit my radar when I’d been in Toronto. What I’d read? Came out first in the League. Won two Cups. Injury that ended his career but transitioned him right into coaching. The perfect couple. The perfect marriage. And, according to media reports, the perfect divorce.
Why? Who the fuck would walk away from Jack Showalter?
Or maybe he’d done the walking. Unfaithfulness? Growing apart?
My heart ached as I thought about Mom. She’d never been married. My father wasn’t someone in the picture. So was I looking at Coach and seeing a potential father figure?
Ew. Ick. Christ, no. Even if I thought it might curb my attraction to him, I wasn’t going there. Nope. Although Ineeded to see him as just the coach, the attraction wouldn’t lessen. My craving for him wouldn’t be sated. When I thought of all the things I could?—
The driver’s door opened and Coach slid in. He ran his hands through his damp hair. “Does it ever do anything but rain?”
I handed him the keys. “Not that I’ve seen.”
He nodded. “Do you want to go somewhere or straight back to the hotel?”