Blake
When I walk into Coach Sawyer’s office, he’s not there.
I glance around, confused. I double-check the time he told me to meet him. I didn’t misread it. I’m here on time.
A minute later, Coach Tremblay walks in.
“Hey. Is Coach Sawyer coming too?” I ask.
Coach Trembly shakes his head as he closes the door. “He actually asked me to meet with you.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He gestures for me to sit in the chair in front of Coach Sawyer’s desk. “Have a seat.”
When I sit down, I expect him to take the chair behind the desk, but he grabs the club chair next to me, then moves it so he’s facing me.
I was nervous when I first walked in here, but now I’m just confused. Where’s Coach Sawyer? Why is his assistant coach taking this meeting with me?
“You’re probably wondering what’s going on,” Coach Tremblay says.
“Uh, yeah.”
“You’re still on the team. I’m sure you were worried about that, so I wanted to get that out of the way first.”
I let out a breath, relieved. “That’s really good to hear.”
“I heard what Coach Sawyer said to you when he called you yesterday.” Coach Tremblay pulls up the sleeve of the Hollis U men’s hockey shirt he’s wearing.
“I’m gonna be straight with you. I don’t agree with his take on this.
What you do in your private time, as long as it’s legal, shouldn’t be a concern of the team.
From what I understand, you don’t showcase Hollis U men’s hockey in any way on this social media account of yours. Is that correct?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. I’d never do that. I keep those parts of my life totally separate.”
He nods, his eyebrows knitted in a thoughtful expression. He’s serious but not angry, which is a big difference from Coach Sawyer, who always looks kind of pissed.
“Coach Sawyer and I are pretty different,” Coach Tremblay says.
“I respect his coaching style and his work ethic. He has a stellar record here at Hollis. You can’t argue with what he’s achieved with his team.
But I’ve noticed he’s very strict and old-fashioned when it comes to what he thinks his players should do in their spare time.
I don’t agree with that. From what I've learned in the short time that I’ve been here, he’s clashed with some players because of it. ”
I nod, thinking about how pissed he was when Nick went into the stands to save Poppy against her ex last season. Yeah, it was against the rules, but any decent person would have supported him. We were all pissed at how he chewed Nick out for doing that.
“He and I had a discussion yesterday. I’m trying to convince him to ease up on you guys when it comes to things like this,” Coach Tremblay says.
“I think it’s important as a coach to stand by your players.
Maybe you don’t agree with something a player does in his personal life, but you should stand by them as long as they’re a good person and haven’t done anything wrong.
And you didn’t do anything wrong, Morrissey. ”
For a second, I sit there, surprised at how understanding he is about this whole thing.
“Uh, thanks.” I clear my throat. “So that’s probably why he didn’t want to meet with me, right?”
He nods. “He figured it would be better if I took the helm on this whole thing.”
“Thanks for being cool about it.”
“Just don’t let it affect your performance on the ice, okay?”
“Absolutely. I won’t.” I clear my throat. “I’m just sorry for all the bad publicity the team is getting because of me.”
He waves a hand. “It’s not a big deal. The sports news cycle moves fast. Something else will happen in a few days, people will go nuts over that, and forget about all this.”
I let out a quiet breath. I hope he’s right.
I glance down at my lap, still nervous about what the Nashville Wolves will say about all this. It’s only a matter of time before they see the social media craze.
“You okay?” Coach Tremblay asks.
I realize I’ve just been sitting there, quietly staring at my lap and saying nothing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I feel bad lying to him, especially after how he stood up to Coach Sawyer for me.
Maybe I should just be honest with him. He seems like a cool, reasonable guy.
“I guess I’m just worried about what the Nashville Wolves will do when they find out about all this,” I say. “I got drafted by them, and I’m contracted to play for them after I graduate from Hollis. I really don’t want to lose out on that opportunity. It’s my dream to play pro.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.”
I’m taken aback at how sure he sounds. How does he know that? “Why not?”
“One of the guys on the team has an account similar to yours.”
My brow lifts. “Wait, seriously?”
He nods. “Another one of the players does a nude photo shoot every year and auctions off the pictures to raise money for charity. And a few of the other guys on the team did a shirtless calendar fundraiser for the local food bank last season. The team’s fine with all that, so they’re not gonna care that you have an anonymous social media account where you post shirtless photos and videos of yourself. ”
“Oh. That’s great.” I can’t believe how this worked out. “Hang on, how do you know all that about the team?”
“I played in the AHL with a few of the guys who play for the Wolves now. We still keep in touch.”
“How come you’re not playing pro?” He’s in his thirties, and I remember Coach Sawyer mentioning that he played for several years before becoming a coach.
“I messed up my ankle, knee, and shoulder one too many times.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
I feel bad for prying, but he just shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It’s alright. This is where I wanna be.”
He stands up from his chair. I stand up too and shake his hand. “Thanks again for everything, Coach. I really owe you.”
“You’re good. See you at practice next week.”
* * *
I’m not even to the porch of my house when the front door flies open, and Briar runs out.
“How did it go? Are you still on the team?”
I smile at her. “I’m still on the team.”
She squeals and jumps into my arms. I scoop her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist.
She grabs my face and kisses me. “Oh my gosh, I was so worried.”
“It’s okay. It’s all okay,” I say between kisses.
People walking down the sidewalk in front of the house whistle and clap for us.
We both laugh, then I set her down. A second later, the guys come out of the house.
“Good news, I’m guessing?” Nick asks with a smile.
“Yup. I’m still on the team.”
“Fuck yeah, man,” Leo says. Travis pats my shoulder.
“So Coach Sawyer wasn’t mad that you have a sexy Instagram account?” Nick asks.
“No, he was. But I guess Coach Tremblay convinced him that what I do on my social media isn’t a problem as long as my performance on the team doesn’t suffer. And thankfully he listened.”
“What? That’s amazing. Coach Tremblay sounds awesome,” Briar says.
“Yeah, he really went to bat for me.” I turn to the guys. “Thanks for going out on a limb for me, guys. I’d probably be off the team if I didn’t have your support.”
I still can’t believe the way they stood up for me.
“Sure thing, dude. We’ve always got your back,” Nick says. Leo and Travis nod along.
They head off to the diner. Briar and I walk into the house together. She leads me by the hand to the kitchen, where I see a giant take-out bag.
“What’s that?” I ask.
She beams. “Steak ranchero burritos. Your favorite.”
She dumps out the bag. My eyes go wide at the mountain of burritos that fall out.
“I ordered ten of them,” she says. “I wanted to surprise you with something you love in case the meeting with your coach didn’t go well.”
I grin so hard my cheeks ache.
I step over to her, grab her by the waist, and pull her against me. I kiss her, teasing her sweet little mouth open and lapping at her tongue.
She lets out a soft moan and tugs her fingers through my hair. A low groan rips from my throat.
“You’re the thing that I love, Briar.”
Her green eyes sparkle.
“The burritos are a nice bonus though, not gonna lie.”
I grab her and set her on the counter. Then I grab one of the burritos, open it, and take a bite.
“You should call your parents and tell them the good news,” she says.
“Later. I wanna have lunch with my girlfriend first.”
That heart-stopping smile flashes across her beautiful face. I offer her the burrito.
“I can’t wait to watch you play at your next game,” she says around a mouthful of steak.
“I can’t either. Especially now that I get to play our game too.”
It takes a second before the recognition flashes in her eyes. She bites her lip. “You want to keep playing that?”
“Yeah. Knowing that I get to come home and give you an orgasm for each goal I score makes me work ten times harder on the ice. Best motivation ever.”
Her head falls back as she laughs.
Then she grabs my face and kisses me. “You’re too much.”
“Yeah, but you love me.”
Her eyes sparkle again. “I really, really do.”
* * *
I stretch out on the ice during warmups, right before our game.
I smile to myself when I see a few people in the crowd wearing scary masks—like the one I wear on my secret social media account.
It’s been a week since the news about that broke on sports news. Coach Tremblay was right. The news cycle moves fast, and the excitement around my secret account has died down a lot.
I haven’t addressed the issue publicly, and I don’t plan to.
I don’t want to make a spectacle of things.
I want my main focus to be hockey, and I still want to post on that account.
My plan is to keep those two things separate, like I always have.
Fine if people want to speculate about it, but I’m not going to be the one to bring it up.
One good thing is the boost I’ve gotten. I’ve tripled my follower count, and I’m getting more money and more brand deals. I’ll be able to pay off my parents’ mortgage sooner than I thought.
I glance over my shoulder and spot Briar in the stands. My heart hammers in my chest when I see her wearing my jersey.
I skate over to the glass in front of her.
She steps over to me. “Hey. You look really hot out there when you’re stretching on the ice.”
I grin. “Oh, yeah?”
She nods. “Especially that hip thrust thing you do when you’re lying face-down on the ice.” She leans closer to me and lowers her voice. “We need to incorporate that into a video for your account.”
“You’re the brains. And the beauty. I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”
She blushes. “You’re the hot one.”
I shake my head. “You’re way, way hotter.”
She giggles. “So how many goals do you think you’ll get tonight?”
“Three.”
Her eyes widen. “That’s ambitious.”
“I’ve got a pretty fantastic incentive.” My gaze drifts to below her waist. Her cheeks turn even redder.
She rolls her eyes, still smiling. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Whatever you want, naughty girl.”
She bites back a shy smile. My heart slingshots around my chest. I love this. I love flirting with her before I play. I love looking up and seeing her in the stands, cheering me on. I love having this private dirty game that only the two of us know about. I love calling her my girlfriend.
Yeah, it took a while for us to get here. But the wait was worth it.
Warmup ends, and I skate off. When the game starts, my focus sharpens. I zero in on the puck, skating hard to assist my teammates.
Nick manages to steal the puck from an opposing player, then takes off toward the net.
Their defense is all over him, so he passes it back to me. Before they can come after me, I shoot the puck. It ricochets off the crossbar and lands at the back of the net.
I pump my fist as the home crowd goes wild. My teammates surround me, celebrating my goal. But there’s only one person I’m focused on.
I turn and look at Briar, who’s on her feet, cheering and screaming.
She catches eyes with me. I wink at her and hold up my gloved index finger. “One down,” I mouth.
Even from all the way across the ice, I see her blush. She beams, and her eyes light up.
My heart beats faster in my chest, and not just because of all the filthy things I’m going to do to her.
But because I can’t believe she’s mine. My best friend. My girlfriend. The woman I’m crazy in love with. My heart.
I can’t wait to go home to her.