Page 3 of Coaching Prince Charming

“Not that photo,” Carter cried in protest.

Quirking up one corner of my lips, I pulled the screen back. It was his yearbook’s image, and Carter looked like a preppy kid headed for the Icy League. White shirt buttoned all the way, a dark blue blazer with a red seam, and a tie with inverted colors to match it, his hair styled neatly for the photo day, unlike the post-shower mess he wore now, and a smug smile with the same mischievous look in his eyes. “It looks good,” I assured him. Crossing my arms on my chest, I looked into his big brown eyes. “What can I do for you?”

Carter Prince lifted a finger. “If you have the authority to update the photo, I’d start there.”

I shook my head regretfully. The truth was, I had no idea what my authority was beyond parroting what more skilled coaches like Margot and Harvey told me.

“Oh, well.” Carter pulled his shoulders high into a mock shrug, the T-shirt’s bottom edge dragging up above the low-hanging waist of his shorts and an inch-wide strip of his underwear. “I just wanted to say how happy I am that you’re coaching.”

“Truly?” I asked, my voice flat but not unkind. I didn’t want pity from a guy half my age who had all the glory of hockey still ahead of him.

I wondered what Dana felt like these days. We hadn’t had any serious conversations about retirement. He’d left the NHL four years ago. Even though he was a year older than me, the math suggested my retirement was still overdue. Dana had been facing similar questions about his performance, future, and longevity in the ranks of the NHL for a little while before announcing he would leave.

Was he looking at his son with the same sliver of envy? Or was I just a particularly shitty human?

“Truly,” Carter said. He grinned, his teeth all a pearly perfection. “I don’t know if I could have hoped for a better coach.”

Neither of us knows if I’m even a passable coach, I thought. Shitty human or not, I wasn’t about to unload this baggage on an innocent kid, no matter how much his easy smile was friendly and how loudly it was inviting me to open up. “That’s kind of you.” Even after I’d said the polite thing, Carter Prince was looking at me. Waiting. “How’s Dana? I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

Carter flashed me another grin. “Dad’s good. He was surprised when they announced you as much as I was. He said he didn’t forget about the five bucks you lent him in 1998.”

I threw my head back and laughed despite all the reasons not to. “Jeez. Way to make a guy feel old.”

Carter was all cocky satisfaction. “He said it, not me.”

“What’s that adjusted for inflation, then?” I asked.

He blew out a breath of air. “Do you really think, if I was any good at math, that Dad wouldn’t have pushed me to study astrophysics instead?”

Our gazes met, and Carter must have noticed sympathy in my look. It was uncontrolled. Dana was a great guy, but he could be demanding. And, much like vacationing in one place his entire life, he rarely considered options beyond those he had already decided on. Such as his son’s future. It was lucky that Carter Prince was awfully talented.

“It’s a joke,” Carter said.

I managed a short exhale through my nose and a nod.

Clenching his teeth and keeping the smile on his lips even after it had left his eyes, Carter lowered his arm from the doorframe. It was a tiny little mercy to not have to keep avoiding looking at the generous amount of flesh his ragged T-shirt revealed and the patch of dark brown hair on his armpit. “I, uh…I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Coach.”

I nodded again.

When Carter left in the direction of the back exit, I inhaled a deep breath of air and held it in my lungs. But I couldn’t even start unpacking the odd sensations that tingled all over my skin and the suffocating pressure that dropped onto my chest before my nephew swaggered into my office. “Coach?” he said.

I gritted my teeth. “Partridge?” My tone called his sarcasm.

Caden paused at the door while Beckett walked all the way to my desk and lowered himself into a chair. “Feeling alright?” Caden asked.

I nodded. On one hand, it was getting old to face all this concern. On the other, Caden was there, witnessing the hell I had gone through this summer. If anyone had the right to check in, it was this kid.

Caden returned my nod. “I’ll wait outside.”

Beckett looked at him over his shoulder. They exchanged a tender look from where I sat, and Caden headed out. When Beckett looked at me again, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m not here to throw a temper tantrum. It’s just that…”

“Let me stop you right there,” I said softly, lifting a hand. “I won’t undermine your authority among the guys, Beck. You’ve done a fantastic job in the second half of the last season.” That was enough to soothe my nephew’s bruised ego, I gathered. “I mean for us to work together, but the very first thing we need to root out is any thought of preferential treatment.”

Beckett frowned. He had been plagued by the gossip over nepotism since he’d joined this team. Until last year, he had made quite a few enemies over it. Being the closest kin to someone like me was like wearing a “KICK ME” sign on your back if you wanted to play hockey like a pro. Beckett had felt it more than enough times in the first two years of college. “So what? That was just for show?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know how things worked with your previous coach, but we wouldn’t dream of taking such liberties in the NHL. Your tactics worked in the past. They’re welcome. But remember that we have a chain of command. Disregarding your coaches is the fastest ticket to getting too cocky.”

Beckett lifted his hands in defense. “We normally had pretty standard formations for warm-ups.”

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