Chapter 4 – Zane
four
Zane
Five months later….
I pull up to the black, stainless-steel garage door and take out my pass, scanning it at the magnetic square, and the door slowly starts to creak open. I wait for the door to completely open before I drive down the ramp to the underground parking.
The valet office in the corner sits empty, since Clive only gets here after eight during the week and two when we have a Saturday game.
Pulling into my parking space, I look at the center console to see it’s four minutes after seven.
I turn off the car, grabbing my phone from the console and the leather binder on the passenger seat.
Looking down to see my father texted me.
Dad:
Have the best first day. Send us a first day on the job picture.
I smile and shake my head but do it anyways with me scowling and holing up a thumb.
Getting out of the SUV, I head over to the silver stainless-steel door that you need a pass to go through.
I take my pass out and scan it, watching the red light turn to green before the door unlocks and I step in.
The office space is eerily quiet, which is normal since we start at nine today, but I came in to hit the gym for an hour before I head to my desk and start reading the notes from yesterday.
We started training camp two weeks ago but today everyone is back, including the players who have official contracts with the club.
I’ve made it clear to the GM two weeks ago that regardless of if they have a contract or not, if they are going to half-ass training camp they’ll be shipped to the farm team.
He was not thrilled with this news, since he has a budget to account for, but I couldn’t give a fuck less.
I want to win games and I’m not going to do it with people who aren’t going to give it their all.
I walk down the black carpeted hallway to my office in the corner, which was Martin’s office until his last day here three months ago.
He was half out by the time the draft came, and I was officially in the head coach position.
The office is bare, with a desk in the corner so I can have space for a couch that I don’t even use, but Martin had it in here, so I kept it.
I don’t even think anyone has ever sat on this couch, to be honest. There is a small mini fridge in the corner of the room behind my desk, fully stocked, even though I haven’t touched a drink in there.
I leave it stocked for when people come into my office.
I toss my binder on the top of the desk before walking back out.
The rest of the office doors are closed and the lights are off.
As I head toward the gym, I spot the people in the kitchen setting up.
“Morning!” I holler as I walk by and a couple of them look over at me confused that someone is here so early.
I walk into the gym, taking off my sweater and tossing it to the side before walking over to the television in the corner and turning it on to Sports Center.
Once that is on, I get on the bike to warm up for ten minutes, watching what is going on with other teams. I do cardio for about fifteen minutes before moving to my weight training.
I’m heaving when I grab my sweater and walk out of the gym.
The lights are now on everywhere since it’s after eight.
I stop in the kitchen and start making my protein shake, taking out some frozen fruit and then blending it.
“Hey, Coach.” I look over my shoulder to see Eric, my second assistant coach, walking in. “You’re here early.”
“Yeah, I was in the gym,” I tell him and he nods. “I’m heading to my office now to go over the notes from yesterday’s practice if you want to join me.”
“Will do,” he confirms, and I walk back to my office and toss my sweater onto the couch before pulling the black office chair out and sitting down.
Grabbing the leather binder and unzipping it, I take out the notes from yesterday that I collected from Cam and Eric, along with a couple of the hockey development coaches.
I also grab the printout sheet that was given to all of us with the players’ names, position, and the rest of their stats, including weight and height.
I hear more people arriving as Cam sticks his head into my office. “I’m here. I have things to do.” I look up at him and nod my head, keeping the comment that he should be in here going over the notes with me since he’s my assistant. But if he doesn’t see that, I’m not going to point it out to him.
Eric comes in a couple of minutes later. “Where is Cam?”
“No clue, he said he had things to do,” I reply and watch Eric’s face turn confused. The cup of coffee in his hand goes to his lips as he mumbles something.
“Okay, let’s go over these names,” I suggest as he sits in the same seat I sat in when my life changed five months ago.
“We have fifty-five players trying out,” I tell him and he huffs out.
“Thirty-five forwards, seventeen defensemen, and three goalies. Lucky for us the goalies are not our job. I’ll leave that up to Andrew.
” I mention the goalie coach. “He’s been doing this for the past ten years; he knows more than me.
” Eric nods at me. “We have to be on the ice from ten,” I tell him, “until four, rotating every hour and a half.” He nods at me.
“I want you on the ice with me. I am going to have Cam go over the plays with the guys before they get on there, so we aren’t wasting time. ”
“Sounds good,” he says as we go down the roster and make a plan of attack on who to watch out for.
“We are going to have to cut five defensemen and ten forwards.” I get up from my chair, grabbing the list and putting my notes back in my binder and closing it shut.
As I head toward the locker room, I see the first round of players getting ready for their time on the ice, while the second-round ice players are getting ready to hit the gym, and the third round are getting ready to do off-ice training, which focuses more on balance and coordination, agility and strength training.
“Hey,” I say to Jaxon when I see him walking down the hallway. His face goes into a smile.
“What’s up, Coach Man?” he says, holding out his hand to me.
I shake his hand. “What’s up, C Man,” I call him since he’s the captain. “How we doing?”
“Good.” He nods at me. “Good to be back but sad to leave the summer behind.”
“Did you have a nice vacation?” I ask him.
“Nice enough, spent time with the family. What about you?” He looks around and gives a couple of chin-ups to some of the guys he sees.
“Good, busy. Spent the summer going over everything that I needed to go over. Got ready for this year,” I answer. “We’ve been at it for the last month, going over rookies and prospects.”
“I heard,” he says as Kirby and Knox both arrive behind him.
“Hey, Coach,” Knox greets first, and then Kirby holds up two fingers to say hello as he drinks some light-pink drink from his water bottle.
“What time are you guys on the ice?” I ask them.
“Next round,” Jaxon says for them. “We are doing video training.” I nod at them.
“I’ll see you out there.” I turn. “You guys better fucking bring your A game.” I look at them. “Show the young kids what it’s all about.”
“Yes, Coach,” they snap out at the same time.
“On it, Coach,” Kirby adds.
“You got it, Coach,” Knox states next. “I’m in tip-top shape this year,” he says, making fun of himself two years ago when he came back to training camp twenty pounds heavier and a fuck ton slower. Then last year he came back after learning his wife was fucking his sister’s husband.
“You look lighter,” I joke with him as I head to the locker room to change into my skates.
Cam is already there lacing up, while Eric sits down with his bottle of water in his hand. “What’s going on?”
“Cam wants to go out on the ice,” Eric replies.
I look over at Cam then back to Eric, who gives me a look like “it’s fine.
” I just nod my head as I lace up my own skates, grabbing the nylon track jacket that is hanging on the hook with my name on it.
I push my hair back on top of my head before grabbing my helmet and heading to the ice.
“You forgot the whistle.” Cam chuckles and I turn back to see Cam grab it and put it around his own neck.
“I got it,” he announces, walking past me and heading to the ice.
“This is going to be fun,” Eric deadpans, doing a chin lift toward the door.
“It’s a learning curve.” I give Cam the benefit of the doubt. “He’s been at it longer than I have.”
“Which means he would have gotten the job, if he was qualified enough,” Eric states, getting up. “I’ll go and talk to the guys about the plays on the ice.”
“Thanks,” I reply quietly as I walk out and grab my stick before making my way to the ice. Cam is there on the side, chatting it up with some of the guys.
“Coach,” a couple of them call out.
“Why aren’t you on the ice?” I ask them, my tone tight, and a couple of them look down and head to the ice.
I look up and see we are supposed to start in two minutes.
“Whoever isn’t on this ice by the time I start will not be allowed to practice, and your practice will be over!
” I shout down the hall, knowing the word will get around.
It takes a full minute before everyone who is supposed to be on the ice is on the ice.
“Gentlemen,” I look at the guys in front of me, “you have one hour and a half to impress the shit out of me. Make every single minute count,” I urge.
I would blow my whistle at this point, but instead, I bang my stick on the ice.
“Positions.” I skate to the side and watch them break up into pairs like we did the past couple of days.
I stand to the side with Cam beside me, and when I see a play that isn’t being played right, I look at him. “Are you going to use that whistle or just watch them fuck up things?” I ask him. He smirks before he blows the whistle, and I skate to show them what I want on the ice.
We only get off the ice for lunch and then we are back again for the other two sessions. I get off the ice at the end of the third round, seeing Andrew still on the ice with his goaltenders.
Cam is already out of his skates and out the door heading home by the time I make it to the locker room. Jaxon sticks his head in. “Hey, Coach.”
“’Sup?” I ask him, putting my skates under the bench.
“I’m going to head out, but I wanted to see if you wanted to come over for dinner.” He looks over his shoulder. “Something less formal for us to maybe talk about this year. I was thinking maybe around six, six thirty?”
I nod at him, knowing this is an olive branch he’s extending to me. “Sounds good,” I tell him. “Do me a favor and send me your address. I’ll bring dessert.”
“Awesome,” he replies, walking out. By the time I quickly go over the notes from today’s practice, make it home and order dessert, it’s six when I’m on my way over to Jaxon’s, who lives about twenty minutes away from me.
I pull up to the house, parking on the street, grabbing the white box of desserts that I got, and heading to the front door.
Pressing the doorbell, I wait for Jaxon to answer.
He pulls open the door, and he stands there with jeans and a black Warriors T-shirt on, with his son on his hip. “Come in.” He moves away and I step in.
“Hey,” I say to Jagger, “what’s up, little man?” I hold up my hand. “High-five.” He holds up his hand and gives me a high-five. Then he smiles big at me and looks at Jaxon.
“I was just going to change him,” Jaxon states as we walk into the house. “Please make yourself at home.” He points to the kitchen that leads into the family room. “I’ll be right back.”
I walk over to the kitchen, placing the box on the counter before I look around and step into the family room.
I head over to the built-in shelves where there are photos of Jaxon and his wife, Ariella, a couple of pictures of Jagger when he was a newborn and then, I swear, I think time fucking stops.
Or at least that is what it feels like when I see the face of the girl who has been fucking haunting my dreams for the past five months.
It's a picture of them on a beach somewhere. She’s standing at the side, her face straight, looking at the camera.
Her eyes are not as bright as they were the last time I saw her.
Her hair is loose with those soft waves I can’t get out of my head.
She looks just as beautiful as I remember.
My heart feels like it’s about to come out of my throat when I see a picture of her and Jagger with a #1 Auntie on the top of the frame. It can’t fucking be.
“Hey.” I look over at Jaxon, who has come back into the room without Jagger. “Sorry about that. Ariella was in the shower. She now has him.”
“No worries.” I try to not freak out just yet. “I was just looking at some pictures.” I point directly at the picture of Victoria and Jagger, hoping he says she’s a family friend, maybe Ariella’s sister. I hope she is anyone but his sister.
“Yeah, Tori got him that last month,” he explains. “She’s been trying to get him to say that she’s his number one aunt.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat as the back of my neck starts to burn, and everything feels like it’s coming crashing down when the front door slams shut.
“Honey, I’m home.” Victoria’s voice rips through me, going straight to my cock, and then at her little giggle afterward.
I have to blink once, twice, three times. “It’s Jagger’s favorite person.”
I stand as if my feet are in cement boots as she walks into the house, and I try not to freak the fuck out.
“Oh good, you guys didn’t eat. I’m starving,” she says, looking at Jaxon and not seeing that I’m here.
I look at her, taking in her hair which is almost like it was the first time I met her, pinned back by a clip at the back of her head.
Soft tendrils fall to the sides of her face.
Her cheeks are pink and not because she just came from my cock or my tongue but because of the makeup she has on.
Her eyes are blue today but when she finally looks at me, I see them change before my eyes and widen in surprise.
“Um,” she hesitates then looks at Jaxon, “I didn’t know you were having someone over. ”
“Well, you didn’t call, so how would I be able to tell you?” He teases her as he wraps an arm around her neck and pulls her close to him. “Coach, meet my baby sister, Victoria.”