Chapter 7
Nikolai
Meeting a new coach is always stressful. Meeting a new coach and the guy whose sister you slept with all summer? After you chirped at him about his girlfriend, no less? That’s nightmare
fuel.
I tap my fingers against the arms of my chair as I wait in Coach Ryder’s office. I can’t stop fidgeting. It’s a nice space—albeit
very purple, like everywhere else in this hockey facility—and under other circumstances, I’d want to take a closer look at
the trophies and awards behind the desk. Larry Ryder is a Harvard man, which is about the only thing Grandfather approves
of in this whole clusterfuck of a situation.
I refuse to let my last season end with anything less than me holding up the national trophy, so here I am. Waiting. Hyperaware
of the fact I’m back in Isabelle’s vicinity. After she left last night’s party with her friend, I got smashed enough that
I could almost forget what she told me. Eventually, I dragged myself to my dorm, and to my first class this morning.
I wonder if she’s at practice right now. I’ll bet she looks fantastic when she’s in the middle of a volleyball match. Tight
jersey, short shorts, those cute knee pads... If I saw her, I’d have to resist the urge to drag her over by the ponytail
and lick the sweat away from her temple.
That kind of thinking isn’t doing me any favors, especially since it looks like she never wants to talk to me again, so I
tip my head back.
Jesus. There’s even purple on the ceiling.
The rest of the campus seems nice, although I haven’t explored much beyond getting to class and... whatever this place
is called. The Markley Center, I think. An assistant coach took me through the players’ lounge, the dry locker room, the main
locker room, the practice ice, the arena—a sea of purple stands and a huge crown painted on center ice, in case I forgot where
I was—the staff offices, the medical center, and the gym. There’s another gym that any athlete on campus can use, as well
as a wellness center and a spa. Athletics has always been a strength of McKee University, and the facilities prove it.
I wish it were enough to make up for living in a dorm room again, and figuring out an unfamiliar campus, and getting used
to a whole new coaching system. I’m off-balance and on edge, but at least I can swim in the athlete-only pool whenever I want.
Lucky me.
Coach Ryder walks in, Cooper at his heels. Ryder’s pale blue eyes are like chips of ice, but they seem friendly enough. Even
though I’m sure he hasn’t played in years, he looks fit, ready to lace up if necessary.
He shakes my hand firmly. “It’s a pleasure, Nikolai.”
I smile. I’ve had plenty of coaches since my father, and the first impression matters every time. “Same here, Coach.”
“This is Cooper—well, you two are acquainted with each other.” Ryder’s smile turns wry. “As you know, he’s team captain.”
Cooper looks different without his hockey gear on. I wonder if I look different to him as well. His dark hair is longer than
mine, curling over the nape of his neck. We’re the same height, give or take half an inch, and I’d bet our weigh-ins are around
the same, too. I keep a neutral expression on my face, even though I can’t stop thinking about the apology I owe him. Me and
my fucking mouth.
After a beat, he sticks out his hand for me to shake. “Can’t say it’s a pleasure, but here we are.”
His blue eyes are the exact same shade as Isabelle’s. The second I notice that, my breath sticks in my throat. I return the
handshake quickly.
“Here we are,” I echo.
“Have a seat, gentlemen. Let’s discuss how this is going to work.” Ryder gives each of us a long look, then sits back with
a nod, as if we passed some sort of test. “Lucky me. Two of the top college defensemen in the country, and I can pair you
on the same line.”
Cooper spares me a glance before saying, “Sir, what about Evan?”
“Evan can work more closely with Jean. I know you’ve had your differences in the past, but you’re on the same team now. We
all have the same goal, and that means working together.”
Cooper looks as if he swallowed a lemon, but he just nods. I suppress my smirk. An unexpected bonus in this whole mess: seeing
Callahan sweat.
“I’m expecting leadership from both of you,” Ryder continues. “You’re both seniors, and the younger guys will look to you
for guidance. We’re lucky to have so many upperclassmen on the roster right now, in terms of our chances at getting to the
finals again. If you work together to get the team culture to a good place, combined with clean play, we’re going to crush
the competition.”
“Hear that, Volkov?” Cooper says.
“I ought to be asking you that.”
“Still sore about that punch?”
“Cooper, son,” Ryder says mildly.
Right, Cooper is dating Ryder’s daughter. Must be nice to have your girlfriend’s father call you “son.” I have no doubt that Coach runs his team the way he wants to run it, but I need to make sure I don’t piss off Cooper any more than I already have. The last thing I want is for him to convince Coach to cut my ice time in favor of someone else.
It’s for the best that I didn’t kiss Isabelle yesterday.
“I want you to clear the air,” he adds. “Do it now, before you’re on the ice together. This isn’t going to work without trust,
and trust doesn’t come without honesty.”
At that last bit, he levels me with a look that feels more like an X-ray. For a split second, I think about Isabelle, but
there’s no way he’d know about that, or—thank fucking God—what I said about his daughter before I knew who she was. He must
mean the circumstances around my expulsion from UMass. And possibly the dozens of other insults I’ve hit Cooper with during
the games we’ve played against each other.
Guilt gnaws at me as I think about what I said last year. Telling a guy that his girl looks like she’d give good head is never
a classy move. And normally on the ice, classy isn’t what matters the most, but I should have reined it in.
Ryder drums his knuckles on the desk, then stands. “I’ll be outside. Don’t fuck up my shit, boys.”
When the door shuts behind him, I turn to Cooper. “I’m sorry for what I said about Penny last year. I didn’t realize you were
dating, but regardless, it was stupid and dickish and crossed the line.”
I don’t dare add what I said about Isabelle. Hopefully he was so focused on what I chirped about his girl, he’ll have forgotten
the asinine thing I led with: Where have you been hiding that sister of yours, Callahan? You’ll have to introduce me.
“It was an asshole move.”
“I know. I really am sorry.”
“I... thank you.” He looks me over, eyes narrowed. “You got expelled?”
“Technically speaking.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“I got kicked out.” Talking about it over and over is getting exhausting. “But it wasn’t my fault.”
He laughs shortly. “I’m sure.”
I jerk my fingers through my hair. John deserved to stay at UMass. There’s no point in getting angry about it now, even if
I miss the way my life was before. “One of my guys brought blow to a team party. I didn’t know about it until after a freshman
got fucked up and hurt himself. That’s it.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “You covered for your teammate.”
I incline my head.
“That’s surprisingly decent of you.”
“It’s the right thing for a captain to do.”
“The guys have heard some rumors. To them—”
“I put the team at risk and got my family to clean up my mess?”
“They listen to me.” He stands, pacing to the window. “I can tell them the truth, and they’ll drop it.”
Huh. I figured he’d make me sink or swim, even after my apology, but I guess I shouldn’t have underestimated his drive to
win. If there’s one thing I understand, it’s that. “I’m surprised you’d offer.”
“You can be an asshole on the ice,” he says, looking out the window, then back at me, seriousness in his expression. “I understand
why, and you used it to destabilize me more times than I like to think about. But we’re on the same team now. I don’t want
the situation that got you here to fuck things up for us.”
“I’ll tell them myself.” I join him by the window. “It’ll sound better coming from me.”
“Fine,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his beard. “But it’s my team, Volkov. Don’t forget that.”
My heart drops straight to my stomach. I worked just as hard as he did to become captain, but none of that matters now. He’s a lucky bastard. His relationship with Ryder. His future in hockey. His family, his girlfriend. He won, and he doesn’t even know it.
“Don’t call me that.”
“It’s on the back of your sweater.”
“Not anymore.” I already told the assistant coach this, and he just nodded and said he’d mention it to the equipment manager.
“I’m just going by Abney now. Mother’s side of the family.”
“But your father—”
“We’re not close.” If I’m going to fully commit to being an Abney, I might as well start now.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “Fine. But I want you to do something for me, too.”
The last time I agreed to this, it didn’t lead anywhere good, but I nod. “What?”
He drops the smile. “Stay away from my sister.”
I stare at him for a beat too long. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit. I know that she worked for your mother this summer. She told me that you never even met, and maybe that’s true.
But I remember what you said about her last fall. You didn’t just jaw about Pen. You spoke about Izzy, too.”
Goddamn it, of course he remembers. He must have locked onto the fact that I wasn’t shit-talking for no reason. Even then,
I was paying too much attention to Isabelle. Thinking about possibilities I had no right to imagine. I smile casually, even
though my pulse is racing.
“I was just making conversation, Callahan.”
“You sure about that?”
I manage a short laugh. “No offense, but she isn’t the kind of girl I go for. Cute, but...”
The lie sounds wrong in my mouth, but it seems to work, because Cooper’s shoulders relax.
I was wrong. Isabelle’s eyes aren’t the exact same as her brother’s. Hers have warmth that never goes away. But Cooper? He
can be a shark when he wants to be.
And I know it because I’m the same way.
Partnering us together might make McKee the strongest team in Hockey East—but it could just as easily implode.
“Good,” he says, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Because she can do way better than you.”