Chapter Fifteen
Rowan
Aiden comes up next to me in the locker room. I’m still peeling my gear off because every time I go to change, I get stopped by someone else to talk about the game. Coach had me talking to reporters right after the game ended.
Which is pretty standard for the captain. I’ve become so used to doing it; it feels like second nature. I’ve never had a problem talking to people, press included. And luckily, none of that changed after the accident.
So, by the time I got in here, half the boys were already in the showers. I look over and notice Aiden is still in full gear like me. “What’s up?” I ask.
Aiden hesitates, then says, “I was wondering if you had a chance to talk to coach yet?”
I immediately feel guilty over the fact that I haven’t had time yet. “Not yet, but I was planning on trying to catch him tonight before he heads out.”
Aiden looks relieved, and that makes me feel like shit even more. I know he’s stressed about all of it. “I appreciate you, Cap. I know you don’t have to do this, but—” he fumbles with his words, “It really means a lot to me,” he finally finishes.
I reach out and clap him on his shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re family, and that’s what we do for family.”
He chokes up a little before bowing his head. “I’m kind of waiting to hear if Coach is good with our plan before talking to my dad. I didn’t want to put the cart before the horse, you know?”
I release his shoulder and nod my head. “Makes sense. I’ll make sure to talk to him tonight and let you know how it goes.” I pick up my phone and look at the time. If I’m going to catch Coach, I’ve got to move my ass. “Let me shower real quick, then I’ll go find him.”
Aiden’s head bobs up and down. “Thanks again, Rowan.”
“Anytime, brother.”
Aiden walks off, and I strip off the rest of my gear and run through the shower in record time.
I’m hoping I’m not too late. Coach already gave his speech to all of us right after the game, and he doesn’t normally linger for long after.
I come out of the locker room and turn right, heading straight for his office at the end of the hall.
I hear a group of girls giggling down the hall, but I ignore them and continue to head in the opposite direction until one of them calls my name. “Rowan! Rowan, wait up!” I don’t slow my pace because I’m pretty sure it’s just a puck bunny, and I’m not in the mood tonight.
All I want to do is talk to Coach, grab some dinner with the guys, and go home and put my feet up on the couch.
Maybe text Millie. I smile at myself when I think about texting my little daredevil.
We haven’t talked about what we are going to check off her list next, and I find myself excited to pick something with her.
I feel a cold hand wrap around my forearm in an attempt to slow my progression. “Rowan, baby, where you going in such a hurry?” Her voice is sultry and sounds faintly familiar, a voice that I would normally find attractive, but tonight it just sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
I look down and realize it’s Jenny, a puck bunny I’ve hooked up with a couple of times over the past four years. I gently pluck her hand from my arm. “Sorry, not tonight, Jen.”
She pouts and tries to stop me once again.
This time, she grabs my face, her long, nail-clad fingers latching onto my chin and cheek in an attempt to turn my gaze toward her.
I was trying to be nice, but who in the hell does the broad think she is?
I quickly reach up and remove her hand from my face. “Don’t do that.”
My tone must convey how serious I am because her face drops with a combination of shock and disappointment.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Rowan. You know I just want to show you a good time," she practically purrs.
I roll my eyes. “You need me to spell it out, Jen?”
She huffs, suddenly stopping and reaching for my arm again to stop me in my tracks as well. This time, though, I’m prepared and pull my arm out of her reach.
“I guess you do.” I mumble more to myself than to her. She’s too busy fluffing her hair to hear the first part, so I make sure my voice is loud and clear for the next. “I’m not interested, Jen. Now go on and find your group of cackling girlfriends and another warm body to sizzle up next to.”
That’s exactly what I am to her: just a warm body to pass the time with. She doesn’t care about me any more than I care about her. Suddenly, all of it just feels so damn wrong. I don’t want her hands on me. I don’t want her anywhere near me, or any of the others just like her.
Millie pops into my mind with her wild curls, big smile, and laugh that makes my chest warm every time I hear it. Suddenly, girls like Jen seem a whole lot less appealing when you compare them to a girl like Millie St. James.
Jen stands there with her tits that are practically falling out of her low-cut top and her ass cheeks barely being contained by that tiny ass skirt. All of it cultivated to entice me or another poor sucker just like me, but none of it is actually working for the first time ever.
I don’t have time to process the sudden aversion to puck bunnies before Coach’s door comes swinging open and Coach is walking out.
I blow Jen off like a bad habit and make my way to Coach. He lifts one eyebrow in judgement as soon as he sees Jen. I ignore her huff. She must realize I’m truly not interested, as I hear her prance off in her high heels.
“Coach, you got a minute?” I ask just as I reach him.
“What’s going on, Pierce?”
“I need to talk to you about Aiden. Well, not Aiden, but his father.”
I have his full attention now. “He coming to another game?” he asks, almost giddy.
I’ve got to play this off just right because Coach really doesn’t know about all the animosity between the hockey god and his son. “Yeah, sounds like he wants to come to next week’s game.”
A big, gleeful smile overtakes Coach’s wrinkled and worn face. “Is that so?”
I put my hands in my pocket and rock back on my heels.
“Aiden says he’s excited to come, but sounds like he might be a little worried about the amount of press.
Says he doesn’t know if it’s a good idea because he doesn’t want to distract from the game, you know?
” Little white lies never hurt anyone, especially if it saves Aiden from utter humiliation, and Coach will be none the wiser.
Coach’s lips pucker together like he’s deep in thought. “We can keep it quiet. We don’t have to make a big deal about it like last time.”
I’m nodding, figuring that’s exactly what he would say. I just have to give him a little shove in the right direction. “True, true, but I know how much the board loved the publicity last time.”
His face scrunches up, like he’s deep in thought. Almost there, Coach. Just stick with me here.
“They really did, son. Sounds like we might be in a conundrum here.”
I drop my head, nodding along with his assessment like I’m just as stumped as him. Suddenly, my head pops up, and I pull my right hand out of my pocket to snap my fingers. “I have an idea!”
Coach’s gaze zooms in on mine. “What is it?”
“Why don’t you pitch to the board that Graham will come to the game if he can use one of the boxes? It’s private and low profile.”
He nods along like he likes my idea, then he stops. “What about the press? They aren’t going to be happy if Hart U doesn’t get any publicity from his visit.”
I pretend to contemplate the situation before saying, “What about the school reporter? We can offer an exclusive interview.”
Coach’s eyes practically light up. He slaps me on the shoulder. “That’s brilliant, son.”
“So you think the board will go for it?”
He chuckles, “They would be stupid not to. I’ll set up a meeting this week and get back to you or Aiden on what they say.”
“Thanks, Coach. I know how much Aiden will appreciate it, and so will his dad.” I feel like a schmuck for lying to Coach. Maybe lying isn’t the right word, but definitely leading the witness fits.
“No problem. Tell the boys I’m adding a practice Sunday.
We need our head in the game and not out partying or celebrating before we’ve even won the cup.
” He levels me with his gaze. I feel like a toddler being scolded for putting his hand in the cookie jar before dinner.
In other words, Coach is saying nothing in hockey is guaranteed.
We’ve got to put the work in if we want the reward.
And we still have a lot of work to do to clinch the division and make it to the championship.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now get out of here. Go get something to eat and get to bed early. Best you boys live like nuns for the next four weeks.”
I choke on my laughter as I watch Coach walk away. “Nuns it is, sir.”
His hand goes up in the air in a goodbye as he turns the corner, and all I can do is shake my head. The boys will get a kick out of that one. Nuns. The whole team celibate? No freaking way that will ever happen.
I pull out my phone and text Aiden that Coach is going to talk to the board but sounds like we’re on.
He responds quickly and says he will start working on his dad.
Our plan is one step closer to fruition, and for that, I’m relieved.
Even if I did have to fib a little to Coach, it was all done with the greater good in mind.
Aiden is essential to the team; tonight’s assist on the ice proves that.
I need him focused, not worried his half-cocked father is going to do something stupid.
We’re the closest we’ve ever been to making it to the championships, and it’s going to take every single one of us at a hundred and ten percent to get us there.
As I walk to my car, I think more and more about what Coach said. Maybe he’s on to something. Then, an image of Millie naked and spread wide under me pops into my head, and nuns are the last fucking thing I’m thinking about.