Page 11 of Locke

“Depends entirely on what you need,” I say, tucking my hands into the pockets of my track pants.“First session is always a conversation—I want to understand where you are, what you’re working on, what’s getting in the way.From there it could be anything from visualization and focus work to sleep and recovery protocols to reviewing your physical movement patterns and identifying inefficiencies.Some guys come once and take what they need.Some work with me on an ongoing basis.There’s no template because you’re not the same athlete as the man sitting next to you.”

Crosby nods slowly, and I can see him processing it before filing it away with a nod of appreciation.“I’ll be hitting you up.”

“Looking forward to it,” I assure him, grateful the team’s leader is on board.

The man next to Crosby stands, looking at me with an amused smile.He’s handsome with medium-length hair in various shades of brown to gold, textured and pushed back from his face.He’s got a strong jaw and slashing, heavy brows that give him an intense look, but his brown eyes are warm and filled with mischief.

“Hello… I’m Arch Hewitt and I have a quick question,” he says, teeth flashing in a grin.“Completely hypothetical… if a person—a total stranger, not me—were to have a very specific issue with, say, overthinking shootout attempts to the point where he’s basically narrating his own failure in real time while it’s happening…” He pauses, looks around at his mates and then back to me with raised, hopeful eyebrows.“Could you theoretically help that stranger?”

The room erupts in laughter, and I can’t help but join.“Theoretically,” I say, matching his register exactly.“That’s one of the most common and fixable performance issues I work with.Tell your stranger to come see me.”

“I’ll pass that along,” Arch says solemnly and sits back down.“To the stranger.”

More laughter, even from the coaches.I take a quick glance at Locke, who unsurprisingly, is not laughing, but he’s not zoned out.He’s watching and listening, and I’m sure none of this is making a difference to his antipathy.

I field a few more questions and answer each one straight, no jargon, no oversell.By the time we’re wrapping up, I can tell I’ll have a few visitors this week.

Coach Monahan reminds everyone to be timely to the ice and then the meeting is adjourned.The players file out and I take my shot with Locke when he starts to walk by me.I step in front of him, offer a bright smile.“Good to see you again.”

His eyes roam over me dispassionately.“No offense, but I can’t say the same.”

“Ouch.Are you always this surly?”

“Yup.”

“Even more reason we need to get our first official session set up,” I say, pulling my phone out and accessing my calendar.“I know you’ve got a road trip, but the Tuesday or Wednesday after—”

“Doesn’t work for me.”

“Which one?”

“Either.”

I look at him and he stares back with the patience of a man who has decided to wait me out.

“You pick the day then,” I say with a syrupy smile.

“I’ll check my schedule,” he says and brushes past me.

We both know he won’t.

“I’ll follow up with you,” I say to his retreating back.

“That looked productive,” I hear Coach say from behind me.

Monahan is currently the youngest head coach in the league at just thirty-three years and the organization is taking a gamble on him.He’s striking with classic good looks but it’s the easy way he carries his authority that makes him attractive all the way around.

“He’s a pistol,” I quip with a smile.

Colter nods slowly.“I can get involved if you want.Make it clear to him that this isn’t optional, or I can have Van talk to him.Van’s the only one he actually”—he seems to search for the right word—“tolerates.They work out together before the sun rises sometimes.It’s about as close to a relationship as Locke has with anyone on this staff.”

I consider that.The image of Locke Donovan at five in the morning in an empty weight room speaks to a loneliness that he’s clearly comfortable with.

“Not yet,” I say.“Let me try to reach him first.”

Colter studies me for a second before nodding.“All right.My door’s open if you need help.”

“Appreciate it,” I say as he walks away.