Page 108 of Fall For Me
Hopping out of her seat, she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
Why would they ask me? I don’t get it. There are other assistant coaches—even though they’re nowhere to be found at the moment—but I know they’re around here somewhere. I huff a sigh and stand to face Aspen.
“If I mess this up, I don’t want to hear any bitching out of any of you, and if the media starts talking shit, I might just tell them to go to hell, so you might wanna go ahead and warn Teagan in advance.”
“Thank you.” She throws her arms around me, and I hug her back. “I love you. And I believe in you. You’re not gonna screw up.”
“Love you too.” We release each other, and I squat down in front of Jade. “Okay, princess. I’ve gotta go out there and boss these big o’ boys around since Pops is sick. You stay here with Aspen and be a good girl. Make sure Granny doesn’t get into trouble.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” I kiss her forehead, then head down to the player’s box.
“What are you doing down here?” Aiden asks, squeezing his water bottle in my direction.
Water douses my jersey, and I gape at him. “Stop,” I snap.
I’m already a nervous wreck, and he’s playing fuck around fuck around? Like the manchild he is, he squirts water at me again, but this time it hits me in the face. Plucking a towel off the bench, I pat my face dry, then take a deep breath before pinning him with a glare.
“Keep it up if you wanna be benched,” I warn, snatching the bottle from him and tossing it behind me.
“Fuck yes!” He yells across the ice. “The Protégé is coaching us tonight.”
Great. Thanks a lot, bud. No pressure. No pressure at all.
Carter passes over the tablet in his hands. “Glad to see you down here.”
“Glad to see everyone else’s confidence in me makes up for the lack of my own,” I smart back.
Glancing down at the screen, I frown, confused as to why Dad chose to start Drew after the shit he pulled last game. This isn’t gonna work for me. I look out at the ice, tracking the lines as they rotate through rush drills, then make a player adjustment on the tablet.
“We’re not starting Drew against their first line,” I tell Carter as he stands beside me, arms crossed while I scroll through pairings with my heart lodged in my damn throat.
I glance over, and his brows pinch together. “Why’s that?”
“He cheats too high in the neutral zone, and they’ll burn him out on the backcheck.”
“Who do you want instead?”
“Let’s start Hayes. He’s stronger on the boards and actually tracks back.” I hand Carter the tablet and look up. “If Werchky pinches deep during the first period like he did last game, cut his shifts.”
The corner of Carter’s mouth lifts, and mischief dances in his eyes.
“What’s that smirk about, Coach?”
“I don’t know, you tell me . . .Coach,” he smarts off.
The opening faceoff drops, and every nerve ending in my body comes to life as Cal wins the draw and passes the puck back to Trevor. He sends it to Werchky. Aneheim’s forecheck closes fast, forcing Werchkey to rim it around the boards instead of making a clean breakout.
“Reverse it! Reverse it!” I yell.
Trevor cuts behind the net and grabs the puck before the opposing winger can bury him against the glass. He banks it up the wall to Hayes, who chips it into the neutral zone. Aiden flies down the right side on the rush, but both defensemen collapse toward him.
“Trailer! Trailer! Trailer!” I shout.
Aiden forces the pass through traffic, and it gets picked off at the blue line.
My lips pinch together as the other team counters in the opposite direction.
