Chapter 5
Reid
Joining a new team was never easy, but since I had done it several times in the past, I had the routine down pretty well.
Get to know my coaches. Check.
Spend some time observing my team on the ice to see how they flowed together. Check.
Hang out with them outside of the rink to see how they interact. Working on it.
Figure out where I could start building the relationship. Working on it.
Based on the last two weeks, my team had great camaraderie and great communication on the ice. My job was to not fuck that up and also earn that same level trust off the ice. Too often I noticed that my team would look to their captain for things they should have looked to me for.
Of course, their captain was great, and they should look to him, but I was the coach, and I needed them to seek me out when they were looking for a leader, in addition to their captain.
Unfortunately, while the captain was extremely competent and skilled, he seemed to narrow his eyes whenever he looked my way.
Which made me wonder just how much Rowan had shared about our history.
I was willing to bury the past, though I hadn’t told Rowan that. Based on what I’d learned about him, he had grown up, and there was no reason for me to suspect he would do anything inappropriate.
Now I just needed to trust myself not to do anything inappropriate.
I hit the button on my mechanical whistle. I’d given up on a physical one years ago. The guys quit their drills and skated toward me.
“Great practice,” I said once they were all close. “We’ve got a home game this weekend, morning skate early on Saturday. I expect you all here on time. Mario will be in the weight room with you for the next few hours. If you have any questions, I’ll be in my office.”
The team dispersed toward the locker room, their skates clacking against the floor in that familiar rhythm I’d grown to love over the years. I followed at a slower pace, already mentally running through the game strategy for Saturday.
The locker room smelled like sweat, ice, and that particular blend of products only hockey players seemed to use. I found my assistant coach, Mario, leaning against the wall near my office door, chatting with Evan. Just the man I wanted to see.
Since joining the team, Mario had become my unofficial information broker about the team’s dynamics.
“Coach,” Evan called out, his grin already telling me he had gossip. The kid was sharp on the ice and apparently off it too. “You got a minute?”
Mario straightened up, reading the moment. He knew Evan collected information the way some people collected hockey cards. That was what made him a good captain and an excellent teammate on and off the ice.
“Always,” I said, gesturing them both into my office. I shut the door behind us, more for privacy than anything else.
“So,” Evan started, perching on the edge of my desk like he owned the place. “Are you going to tell us about—”
“Evan,” Mario interjected, shooting him a warning look.
I raised an eyebrow, settling into my chair.
I’d learned not to rush these things. Hockey locker rooms were gossip mills, and if someone had something to say, they’d get there eventually.
I already had a feeling this was about Rowan.
The conversation we’d been skirting around the past two weeks was going to happen.
“Look,” Evan said, his tone shifting from playful to something more careful, “we just want to know if there’s something we should know. About you and your history with a certain mascot. I need to know if I have to worry about Rowan.”
The way he stared at me told me he knew exactly what he was talking about. He hadn’t just read the room, he’d probably heard the whole sordid tale from Rowan himself. The question was, did he get the truth or what had Rowan told him? My jaw tightened, but I kept my expression neutral.
Mario watched me, waiting to see if I was going to blow up. I didn’t blame him. Most alphas probably would.
“What I had before is the past,” I said carefully, each word measured. “What happens in this locker room, on this team, is about now. And it’s about winning. I’m not going to concern myself with the goings-on of the team mascot. Rowan is not my business.”
“That’s the thing, though,” Evan said, and there was something almost respectful in his voice now, like he understood he was crossing a line but needed to anyway.
“We heard you and Ro—” He stopped, catching Derek’s sharp look.
“We heard there might be some history. And we’re just making sure it’s not going to be a problem.
For the team. And for Rowan. He’s a good mascot, and a great asset.
I know it’s unconventional, but he really is a friend to all of us, and we care about him. ”
The loyalty in that question, even wrapped up in curiosity, made something in my chest ease slightly. These guys cared about their team more than they cared about drama. That was good. That was exactly what I needed.
“There’s no problem,” I said, and I meant it. “Not professionally. Not in ways that matter for how I coach any of you.”
Evan nodded slowly, like he was parsing whether I was telling the truth. Smart kid.
“Good,” Mario said, pushing off from where he’d been leaning. “Because we need to be focusing on building this team. We’ve got a real chance to go far this year and in the future. It’s time to put in the work.”
“That’s exactly what’s going to happen,” I said.
Evan slid off my desk, apparently satisfied. “Cool. I just wanted to make sure. You know how it is, everyone’s always looking for drama where there doesn’t need to be any.”
“Everyone except you,” Mario said dryly.
Evan grinned. “Especially not me. I prefer facts.” He headed for the door, then paused. “See you tomorrow, Coach.”
Once he was gone, Mario lingered for a moment, his expression thoughtful.
“You good?” he asked quietly.
I leaned back in my chair and nodded. “I’m good.”
He believed me, or at least pretended to. Either way, he clapped me on the shoulder and left me alone in my office.
Alone with the knowledge that apparently some team members already knew something about me and Rowan, and with the much more pressing question of whether I could actually pull off what I’d just promised—keep it professional when my past was about to skate onto my team.