Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
SUTTON
Their coach’s office is the next hallway over. Coach Mathieson’s lights are on, the door already cracked open. I knock twice.
“Come in,” his deep voice calls out.
Everyone on the women’s team swoons over him. Deep, husky voice—the kind that has you squirming when listening to an audiobook and it gets spicy. Bright, brown eyes that I swear are magnets. Most fall for his smile, but I was always drawn to his eyes.
A thought starts to form, but I stop it before I find myself running back down these halls to another pair of bright, brown eyes.
“Sutton,” he greets me before I have the door fully open. “Have a seat.”
“How are you, Coach? Playoffs are looking good.”
“Best season we’ve had in years. Carmichael is at the top of his game. I’m assuming you are to thank for that.”
I shake my head no. I could never take credit for his ability. Cooper is talented, truly. “That’s all him.”
“His head is clearer. He’s skating like the kid I saw and recruited in high school.” He gives me a knowing head tilt, complete with a brow raise and sly grin. “He’s back to being the player he was born to be.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Coach’s mouth ticks up on one side, I think he knows what I’m about to ask. “How’d you know he’d be a good fit for this?”
“He reminded me of someone I knew.”
“You.” I’m stunned, struck with clarity. From the little knowledge I have about him, it makes sense.
“Me. Carmichael had too much potential to let it go.” My nose scrunches with curiosity, questions I want to ask when there’s more time. “However, that is not why you bravely entered my locker room or are stalling practice right now. Is it?”
“I’d like to do something with the whole team. How do you feel about cycling?”
The team is more receptive and enthusiastic about skipping their lifting session to come with me to Elliot’s cycling audition than I anticipated.
I did, however, leave out that it is musical themed.
After Coach Mathieson agreed to let me steal them away for the hour, he walked me back to the locker room to inform them.
The deal was that afterwards they had to do something as a team, whether it was dinner or playing video games or reading a book together, he didn’t care as long as it wasn’t hockey.
A sophomore left winger commented, “There is this cowboy romance I’ve been seeing all over social media, I’ve been wanting to read.”
“I’ll read it with you. Send me the link,” Jaxon replied. A couple of others chirped up, and I think they are starting a book club. “Girls love that shit. Even you could learn a position or two.” He patted Cooper’s chest.
I coughed, and everyone’s eyes turned on me—mine were only on Cooper—before grabbing their bags to follow me to the rec center.
Elliot almost peed herself when she saw us roll up.
I set myself up on a bike between Chase and Dawson.
Cooper finds a bike in a different row despite the guys calling him over to us.
The studio is set up in a blocky U pattern with Elliot in the middle on a square stage.
Each of the three sides have rows. My favorite spot is on her right side, in the third row against the wall.
Today, I’m in middle of the second row. He’s in the first row on Elliot’s left.
Elliot starts the camera setup in two corners of the room, then climbs onto her bike. The sound of her shoes clipping in is faint as she turns up the music and dims the lights.
She adjusts the laptop stand to her left and pulls on her mic. “Everyone ready?”
There’s a cheer from seventy percent of the room. The other thirty percent is a mixture of groans and mumblings of what are we getting ourselves into.
Chase turns and gives me a high five. A giddy smile on his face, cheeks pink, and we haven’t even started cycling yet.
“That’s the kind of energy I like to see.
Thank you for being here today! If you haven’t taken a ride with me before, I’m Elliot.
This is our power cycling class. During the next forty-five minutes, we’ll focus on intensity, combining watts and resistance with RPM.
We will ride in and out of the saddle, as well as incorporate upper body movements.
“When you’re ready, reach down to the blue dial in the center of the bike and do a full spin to the right.
This will control the resistance. I’ll provide a range that you can see on the left.
The right will be your cadence. Ride at what’s comfortable but challenging.
This ride is about you…and musical tunes. ”
She reaches for the volume button, turning up the volume even louder, simultaneously increasing the energy.
We’re halfway through the ride and out of the saddle, working up a hill. My resistance is set to sixty-five. This is a record for me.
I feel good. Sweaty as if my body is sweating and riding out my feelings for Cooper…I shake my head, shut my mind back off.
That’s what this is supposed to be for the team. A break from hockey. An opportunity to move their body in a new way that’s fun and exciting. They’re all under pressure to clinch their spot in the playoffs. Every pass, shot, block—every game matters.
They’re first in their conference and nation right now. A twelve-game winning streak after a rough start post-winter break.
Dawson towels off, then joins the rest of the room, spinning it above their heads. Elliot’s hair is whipping back and forth as the beat drops in a remix of songs from The Greatest Showman.
I sit back down and turn the dial to the left. Grab my water and take a sip while I find an easier RPM to maintain. Elliot catches me and gives me a subtle thumbs up to check in with me. I nod and mouth You’re doing great.
She’s glowing. In her groove.
If she doesn’t get this position, I’ll find the headquarters and throw a pedal at them.
I silently chuckle at myself because I could never do anything like that.
Not from chickening out, but I can barely kill a spider.
I’d rather stand as far away as I can, leaning forward to scoop it up with paper or something to take it outside.
I used to sob when my parents would flush my goldfish from the fair down the toilet.
RIP, Cruella and Maleficent.
Elliot will get this, I know it.
“Are all of her classes like this?” Chase leans in my direction.
“Yeah,” I huff, speeding up my legs to match the newly called out cadence.
“No wonder I can never get into one.”
“You try?”
“Every week.” His eyes flick down before finding her again. “Well, when we don’t have games or practices.”
“Why don’t you text her? That’s what I do, and I always get in.” He shrugs, almost embarrassed. “I try to go every Tuesday morning if you want to come with me next week.”
“I’d like that.” Chase chews on his cheek, then turns back to me. “You think she’d like that?”
“Having her best friend in class? Just maybe,” I manage to get out before becoming out of breath from peddling so fast.
The ride finishes ten minutes later. Once again, I’m a sweaty mess, and Elliot looks like she’s ready to be featured on the front of Sports Illustrated.
Her sorority sisters and a couple of regulars who were able to make it leave. The team congregates in the back corner. Laughing at each other, snapping their shirts on their abs.
“Oooh. Abs.” Elliot winks. “If I knew this would be my reward after a class, I’d beg your coach to let you come every day.”
“Yours are better,” a freshman says. Chase smacks him in the head with Dawson’s shirt that he ripped from his grip. A few others pipe up with the same sentiment.
Elliot does have better abs than a majority of them; and that’s saying something because Cooper’s abs are layered on top of each other like a six-tiered cake.
I worm my way through the bikes and the team. “Cooper,” I call out. He’s heading to the door, his shirt hanging around his neck. “Cooper—”
I see his muscles tighten with each syllable.
Someone circles my wrist, pulling me back gently. I glance down and spot Elliot’s nails. “Let him brood. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
But I did.