15. Weston
WESTON
I t can’t happen again.
Harbor’s voice echoes in my head, drowning out my brother’s banter.
I know she’s right. Everything’s fucked if we screw this up—for both of us.
But that doesn’t make walking away feel any less like giving up the game before the buzzer.
I’ve never wanted anything more than hockey.
Until now.
And that terrifies me more than any hit I’ve ever taken.
“You going to bed already?” Bennett elbows me as we walk through the lobby of the Driftwood Inn. A few of the guys from the team are hanging at the bar, but I have zero interest in drinking or small talk.
“Yeah. I have an early ice time, followed by the presser and the ESPN interview.”
“Oh, fancy. The ESPN interview.” His voice raises an octave as he razzes me. “Better get your beauty sleep then. ”
“Exactly. Callum, you gonna babysit this guy tonight? I’m afraid to leave him alone. We’re collectively trying to stay out of trouble, at least for a little while.”
“Hey.” Bennett throws his palms up in protest. “I’m right here, guys.”
“We know.” I level my gaze on Bennett. “I can’t emphasize this enough. We have to kick things off right. Please don’t do anything stupid. I’d feel better if you went up to bed right now.”
“Geesh.” Bennett huffs out a breath, then tosses an arm over Callum’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Dad. I have Callum to babysit me.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t stay out too late, Cap.” Callum pats my back. “You can head up.”
Bennett leans in. “You sure you’re not having a late-night strategy session with Harbor? Because hooking up with the woman whose been hired to save our asses from scandal is peak irony, bro.”
My chest tightens, a mix of anger and disappointment surging through me.
“No. Believe it or not, just going to bed. Alone.”
“Too bad. You’d probably be less of a hard-ass if you got laid.”
My jaw clenches, but I ignore the jab. Fighting with my brother’s going to accomplish nothing.
“Night.” I stalk to the elevator and mash the button. I just want this day to end.
Mercifully, I’m alone in the elevator and there’s no power outages, so I get up to the second floor without incident. The doors slide open and I step into the quiet hallway, making my way to my room.
I’m swiping my key when I catch a glimpse of a dark blue blur two doors down from me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot her.
Harbor.
Of fucking course I run into her.
I can’t seem to avoid her, no matter how hard I try.
I should duck into my room and pretend I don’t notice her standing there. Ignore her and the thudding of my heart.
I hesitate for a split second, then click my door shut and take three long strides until I’m standing in front of her.
“Weston.” Her voice is surprised and breathy. But it’s her pulse fluttering in her neck that gives her away. She’s as affected by what happened today as I am, I’m sure of it. “Do you have questions for me about the interview?”
“Questions, yes. But not about the interview.” I all but growl the words, fists clenched at my side to keep from reaching out and touching her. She smells sweet, her intoxicating scent winding around me in the close space.
Her wide eyes flick to my face, two bright pink stains coloring her cheeks.
“We can’t,” she whispers, the briefest flash of regret filling her pretty face. “You know we can’t. It’s too risky.”
“Because of the job? Or because you’re scared?”
“Both. Everything I’ve worked for, Weston. I can’t—I won’t be the cautionary tale.”
A rock settles low in my gut. I know she’s right. But I don’t have to like it.
I scrape a hand over my jaw, heavy disappointment settling over me.
“I know. You’re right.”
Not waiting for a chance to second guess myself, I step in and scoop her close to my chest, pressing my lips lightly to the top of her head.
Her sigh tickles my throat as she closes her eyes, seemingly savoring the connection.
But before she can blink those beautiful hazel eyes open again, I step back and turn away.
“Night, Hurricane.”
Before I do something I’ll regret, I hustle back to my room and shove inside. I have to forget about the locker room. Pretend nothing ever happened and move the fuck on with my life.
It’s the safe play. And now’s not the time to take a risk, no matter how badly I want to.
Practice is a disaster. No sleep. No rhythm. Every break is off, every pass mistimed.
Finally, I give up and hit the showers to get ready for the team meeting. Prince hasn’t looped me in on the coaching situation and I’m kind of pissed about it. Not that I have any say, really, but an intro before the meeting would have been nice.
I’m buttoning my dress shirt when the team starts to file in a few minutes before ten. Callum lopes over to me, looking uncomfortable in his dark gray suit. He’s not one for dressing up, always more at ease in his athletic gear than anything else.
“Morning.” He tips his head, shoving a hand deep in his suit pocket. “How was practice?”
“Shitty.”
“Sorry to hear. You nervous about the interview?”
I shrug. “Not really. Just a little off out there.”
“Happens to the best of us. ”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but how late did Bennett stay out last night? Did he get into any trouble?”
Callum shakes his head. “No. He was on his best behavior. All good.”
I tuck in my shirt and try to ignore the tightness between my shoulder blades creeping up into my neck. I can’t seem to shake the anxiety that’s been my constant companion for the last few weeks.
Then Bennett strolls in—and he’s not alone.
My blood boils as he grins at Harbor like she’s a fucking game he wants to win. Flashing his damn dimple, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Oh, hell no.
He’s not allowed to flirt with her. Now or ever.
Jaw clenching, I snatch my tie from my locker and wind it around my neck, doing my best to ignore the two of them laughing and chatting across the room. Now’s not the time for a confrontation with my brother. But I’m definitely addressing this situation with him again later.
I loop the silky fabric of my tie into a knot, sneaking a quick glance over at Harbor. In a navy pencil skirt and a light blue silky blouse, her hair falling across her shoulders in loose waves, she’s professional and polished and very, very fuckable.
Holy hell.
It’s gonna be a long fucking day.
Prince breaks my focus on Harbor, strolling in with a man I don’t recognize. He’s clean-cut, with sandy brown hair and a suit he probably had custom-made because he’s easily twice as broad as Prince. Doesn’t look to be much older than me.
Has to be the new coach, and I’m guessing he’s a retired player himself based on size alone .
Prince claps his hands once and the locker room falls silent.
“Boys, I’d like to introduce you to the new head coach for the Coastal Crushers. New season, new town, new branding—and most importantly, new leadership.”
My chest squeezes with each new . All this change might just kill me.
“After an exhaustive search, I believe he’s the absolute best man for the job. He can take this team where it needs to go. He’s got the mind, the experience, and the edge to lead the Crushers to victory. Meet Coach Mike Keller.”
The man steps forward and scans the room like he’s already clocking everyone’s weaknesses.
Prince continues. “He comes to us from the AHL. Last season, he was assistant coach for the Milwaukee Icehounds. Ran defense and special teams. Top five in the league in both categories. Three of his guys got NHL call-ups this year.”
A flicker of surprise goes up around the room. Clearly, this guy is good.
“He also coached in the OHL and turned a bottom-ranked junior team into playoff contenders. Player development is his thing—but don’t mistake that for soft. Under his guidance, next season’s going to be great. Coach—” Prince gestures to the coach and he steps forward, shrugs his shoulders.
“Appreciate the intro, Mr. Prince.” His voice is clear and calm.
“I’m excited to be here with you all and I’m looking forward to the months ahead.
As Mr. Prince mentioned, I was with Milwaukee.
I’m a former player myself—D1 before I pivoted to coaching.
My style’s fair, but firm. I’m not here to be friends, I’m here to win.
So long as we’re all working toward the same goal, everything’s good.
” He locks eyes with me and my gut tightens.
This is what real leadership looks like. Calm authority, the kind that doesn’t need to prove itself. Presence that commands respect without demanding it.
Everything I’m supposed to be for this team.
Except I’m failing because I can’t keep my focus off the blonde PR consultant who’s supposed to be saving us from scandal.
I’ve never had problems with a coach before and I sure as hell don’t want to start now.
I stand straighter, shoulders squared.
“I’ll be holding individual team meetings with each of you. Mini strategy sessions to go over strengths and weaknesses and what we’ll be focusing on during the pre-season. Sign-up sheet’s on my office door. This is mandatory.”
He shoves a hand in his pocket and steps back in line with Prince. Harbor snaps a few quick photos and I do my best to ignore her.
“Okay, meeting adjourned. We’ll be holding the presser in the lobby. Meet in the hallway in the next fifteen minutes.” Prince waves his hand and chatter immediately resumes.
“What do you think?” Callum leans over, a brow raised.
I shrug. “Seems fine. I like the winning part.”
“Same. Not sure how it’s going to go down with Bennett, though. He’s gonna have to tone it down and focus this season.”
“Bennett should be fine here. Not much to do in this town, from what I’ve seen.
” My gaze flicks over to him, one hand propped against a locker while he continues to flirt with Harbor.
Jealousy roars through me, along with the realization that Bennett can laugh with her, joke around and be normal.
While I’m trapped between wanting her and protecting the team that depends on my leadership.