Page 110 of Fall For Me
“Mac. I don’t care if Jesus Christ himself comes down onto that ice and asks you to bow at his fucking feet, you don’t come out of the crease. Pull that shit again and I’ll bench you,” I warn, then turn to the rest of the guys. “As for the rest of you . . . you did a good job pressing out there. Cal, since you’re retiring at the end of the season, I’m giving Petrov more ice time.”
“Got it, boss.” Cal nods.
“Petrov, I’m gonna need you to step up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I wipe my brow and release a deep sigh.
“There's a lot riding on this game, and yeah, I’m gonna be selfish here . . . Don’t make me look like a goddamn idiot on national TV. Everyone in this room has something to prove, so let’s work as a team and get the job done.” Turning toward the tactics board, I grab a marker and draw Anaheim’s setup from the first period. “They’re stacking pressure high during our breakouts because we keep forcing pucks through the neutral zone instead of supporting low.”
I point the marker toward Hayes. “You’re winning the wall battles. Keep doing that, but when Petrov swings low, use him. Don’t blindly chip up the boards under pressure.”
“Yes, Coach.”
Dragging the marker through the center of the board, I draw another setup. “Jerome, tighten your gap. You backed in too early twice and gave Little Mac too much room on the entry.”
Jerome runs a towel over the back of his neck as he leans forward on the bench. “So, you want me holding the line longer?”
“Yes. But be smart about it. If Werchky pinches without support again, we’re gonna get burned on an odd-man rush.”
Werchky lifts both hands up in defense. “Hey, I recovered.”
“Barely,” Aiden mutters.
I cap the marker and look around at all of them.
“I have a feeling that Little Mac will be playing emotional hockey for the rest of the game.” My eyes flick toward Aiden. “Brodie, what you said was out of pocket, but talking trash is part of this game, and we’re gonna use it to our advantage. Keep it up. Matty’s a damn good hockey player, a scary opponent even, so use your smart mouth to control the pace. Alright, everybody on three.”
Everyone stands, putting their hands on top of each other as I say, “One. Two. Three.”
“Turn up the heat!” The team chants, hands breaking apart as they make their way back out to the ice.
Sean lags behind, pinning me with a hard glare.
“It’s not personal, Sean, it’s business.”
“I know.Coach,” he snaps, storming out of the locker room.
Fuck!
I’m trying to separate my job and my relationship here. Maybe I’m not cut out for this . . . Maybe this is a terrible idea. I can’t coach him and be in a relationship with him at the same time. The hardship of coaching my own boyfriend never even crossed my mind. I don’t know how anyone thinks this is even going to work; technically or ethically.
“It won’t always be easy, Sport, especially if you’re coaching someone you’re involved with, but you’ve got this,” Dad’s voice says from behind me.
“W-What?” I turn around. He’s not pale. No flushed cheeks. No glossy eyes. In fact, he doesn’t look sick at all. My heart races as the betrayal burns my eyes.
“Why?” My voice cracks.
“Why what?” He approaches me, hands buried in his pockets. “Why did I force your hand? Because I know you, Hannah. You doubt yourself, and you never would’ve even tried coaching if I didn’t.”
I can’t believe he did this to me. He’s never done anything so manipulative like this before. “Who else was in on this?”
“Just me.”
I cut him a glare. “I don’t fucking believe you.”
“No one else was in on it. I promise. You just needed a push?—”
