Amelia
FIFTY
JANUARY, TWO SEASONS AGO
I stare at the email in my inbox and stifle a scream.
I read it a second time, and when I convince myself that the words are really real, I jump to my feet. I dash out of my office and bang on Jude’s door.
“Come in,” he calls out.
“Hi.” I push the door open and ignore the way my hand shakes on the brass knob. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“The Baltimore Sea Crabs fired their head coach back in November, and they haven’t found anyone to fill the open position.
” I sit in the chair across form him. Taking a deep breath is nearly impossible.
“The Sea Crabs sent my agent an email asking if I’d be interested in flying out to meet with them next week, and I need to know if I’m totally unqualified for the job. ”
“It’s about damn time someone reached out to you.
” Jude’s beam is brighter than the winter sun outside his windows.
“You’re ready, Amelia. I’m grateful for your loyalty, and I’m proud of what we’ve built together, but you deserve this opportunity.
You have natural talent that can’t be taught.
You anticipate, you strategize faster than the puck moves.
You’re passionate and by far the smartest coach I’ve ever worked with, from your hockey IQ to your ability to read the ice.
The Sea Crabs would be lucky to have you as the leader of their team. ”
His praise hits me with full force. I process each word, cataloguing them and holding them tight. I want to be able to replay the encouragement when I’m struggling to believe in myself or when the noise gets too loud and I forget who I am.
I’m Amelia Green, and I can do hard things.
“Thank you.” My bottom lip quivers, but I swallow down the emotion and regain control. “I’ve learned so much from you, and I’m so glad for the trust you put in me.”
“What was the first thing that went through your mind when you read the email?” Jude asks.
“Fear, but also excitement,” I admit. “I’m afraid I might not be good enough, but I’d rather try and fail than spend the rest of my career wondering what-if.”
“The cold water doesn’t get warmer the longer you wait, Amelia.
Fear—of failure, of being fired, of someone out coaching you—never goes away with this job, but that’s what makes it so worthwhile.
How boring would life be if we never stepped outside our comfort zone?
” His gaze locks on mine. “I could sit here and give you every compliment in the world, but at the end of the day, you’re your toughest critic. You know if you’re ready or not.”
I can feel it, from the heartbeat in my fingertips to the dry scratch of my throat.
I am ready.
I want this.
“I’m so appreciative of your support and the guidance you’ve given me.” An exhale works its way free from the tangle in my lungs. My pulse quickens, the low hum of excitement brushing against the base of my spine. “I’m going to ask my agent to set up a meeting.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Jude pauses. His voice shakes when he speaks again. “I’m so proud of you, Amelia. Working alongside you has been the biggest honor of my career.”
“You’re making it very difficult not to cry.” I wipe under my eye and smile when a teardrop clings to my thumb. “Can we settle on a handshake and call it a day?”
“Professional as always, Green.” He reaches across his desk, palm outstretched. I take his hand in my hold, a watery laugh leaving me when he squeezes tight. “For the record, I’m going to be very disappointed if I don’t have a front row ticket to your Hockey Hall of Fame induction.”
“You and your jinxes. I hope you didn’t just curse me.” I drop his hand and stand. “Thank you, Jude. For everything.”
“Go make me proud, Green.”
I stay at the arena until five, passing the time by responding to my agent’s email with an enthusiastic acceptance of Baltimore’s invitation for an interview and reviewing game footage from our matchup against Dallas last night.
By the time I get home, I’m buzzing with energy. I kick off my heels in the foyer and pull up my text thread with Grant, firing off a message as fast as I can type.
Me
Hi! Do you have a minute?
His response arrives seconds later, just like it always does.
GE
For you, I have a thousand minutes, Lia.
Me
Can I call?
I don’t need to wait for an answer. A FaceTime call comes through, and I prop my phone against the backsplash in the kitchen so I can pour myself a glass of celebratory wine.
“Hey,” he says when the call connects.
“Hi.” I smile at the sight of him in his bed with an arm behind his head. “How was your day?”
“Long and weird. Practice went well, and our film review had less criticism than normal. Coach was in a good mood, and he’s been acting more like a human and less like a robot over the last couple of weeks.” He yawns. “Maybe someone upgraded him to a better model.”
“Maybe we’re in a simulation.” I find the wine opener and pull out my favorite Chardonnay from the fridge. “Or, better yet, the hotel ghosts got Brody.”
“Fuck. I hope it’s not the ghosts. Being haunted by him would be traumatizing.” Grant laughs. “Everything okay? Your text was cryptic.”
“Yeah.” I take a sip of my drink and set the glass on the counter. “I have some news.”
“Still cryptic, and now we’re moving toward ominous. Did you commit a crime?”
“Do I look like a crime-committing citizen?”
Grant dips his gaze to the length of my throat and the spot above my collarbone where my necklace sits. I’ve been wearing more jewelry lately, and I wonder if subconsciously I did it for the thrill that races through me from his attention.
His eyes move lower to my shirt, a low hum of approval echoing from his end of the phone at the black turtleneck I didn’t pair with a blazer today.
He’s thousands of miles away, but the slow perusal makes it feel like he’s right here.
Like there’s a hand on my cheek and fingers dancing along my jaw.
My nipples are hard under my shirt, and I all but snatch my wine off the counter so I can chug it.
“No,” Grant murmurs. “You look perfect.”
It’s dangerously low, a whisper in my ear. A mouth kissing from my neck to my chest, and it’s a fever that won’t break. Hot. Achingly, impossible-to-ignore hot.
“Do I?” I ask. Another sip of wine has me wanting to play with fire. Another glance at him and noticing the way he shifts on the bed, the way he puts a pillow in his lap has me wanting to strike the match. “I’m not so sure about that.”
I’ve forgotten everything I want to say. The only thing I’m aware of is him—parted lips, the change in his breathing. He’s as affected as I am from a silly phone call, from merely the sight of me, and that could make a girl do something she might regret.
“Do you, ah—” Grant coughs. “You said you have news.”
“News. Right. Yeah.” The spell breaks, and my feet are back on the ground. “The Baltimore Sea Crabs want to interview me for their head coach position.”
“Lia. Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
“Let’s go.” Grant jumps on his bed, bouncing up and down. “This is goddamn incredible. Oh my god. Holy shit. Tell me everything. When did you apply? How are you feeling?”
“I need your enthusiasm in my day-to-day life.” I pick up my phone, walking to the living room and plopping on the couch with a grin.
“I didn’t even apply. They reached out to my agent about coming in for an interview, and I said yes.
As for how I’m feeling, I’m nervous. I’m also really fucking excited.
Hope can be a dangerous thing in sports, but I have a lot of it right now. ”
“Oh my god,” he repeats, softer this time. “I’m so happy for you. You brilliant, amazing coach. You magnificent woman. You’re spectacular.”
“I am not.”
“Amelia Green.” Grant sits on his mattress and narrows his eyes. “Don’t start with the self-deprecation.”
“I don’t want to get too excited over something that’s not a sure thing. I’m cautiously optimistic, but I don’t want to put all my eggs in one basket. What if it’s not the right fit? What if change is bad?”
“Then you still have your job in Denver, and you’ll wait for the right fit. It’s out there, Lia. You just have to find it. Fuck. I don’t know why I’m tearing up.” He wipes his cheek and laughs again. “Actually, I do know why. You deserve this.”
“I do deserve this.” I roll my head on the couch cushion, sighing. “And now that it’s a possibility, I really, really want it.”
“You’re going to get it. I know you’re going to say I’m being overambitious, but they reached out to you directly, Lia. That’s important.”
“Yeah.” I rub a hand over my chest. “I think you might be right.”
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs.
The smooth baritone of his voice makes me shiver. It wraps around me, a cloak of confidence I’ll wear until next week.
With his support, I can do anything I set my mind to.
“I’ll keep you posted about my trip,” I say. “When I get in, how long I’ll be in town. Maybe we can meet up.”
“Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there. I’ll change my whole schedule if it means I get to spend time with you.” Grant smiles at me again, and it’s like I’m the only one in the world. “I hope you go to sleep tonight proud of yourself, Lia.”
We hang up a few minutes later, and I finish my glass of wine.
It’s not lost on me that this job would put me only an hour away from Grant. How nice would it be to see him whenever I wanted? To grab dinner with him on a random Wednesday night just because we can?
I’d never take a job for a man, but I can’t deny how wonderful it would be to be close to my best friend.