Page 42 of Rookie Move

He spent thenext thirty minutes doing two-on-ones and passing drills, with Bugsy calling out every single misstep Desmond made. The man was stretching on a few of them, but Desmond kept his head down and continued like it was a normal practice. It sucked, but he deserved every bit of Bugsy’s ire.

“Seibs, you got this? I have a scheduled call I have to take,” Bugsy called out.

Desmond breathed a sigh of relief—until Bugsy skated by him.

“Come to my office after you get off the ice,” he said, skating away before Desmond could respond.

“Fuck. That was rough,” Finn said, stopping next to Desmond. “Did you just get called into the principal’s office?”

“Yep.”

“It was nice knowing you, man,” Finn said with a sardonic grin.

“Fuck off. It’ll be fine.” He paused. “Right?”

“Sure. What could possibly go wrong with you dating the coach’s daughter?”

“That’s what I tried to tell him weeks ago,” Baz said, coming out of nowhere.

“Can we get this asshole a bell or something?” Desmond said, shaking his head.

“We’ve been suggesting that for years,” Finn replied.

“Good luck, Nessie. Try not to get kilt. See what I did there,” Baz said, laughing loudly.

“You’re hilarious,” Desmond muttered, and then turned his attention back to Seibs, trying not to think about the conversation he was going to have to have with Rylie’s father—his coach.

Fuck. He’d really fucked this up.

***

Desmond walked intoBugsy’s office an hour later. He’d grabbed a quick shower and left the locker room before Baz could torment him again.

“Hey, Coach. Sir.” He didn’t know what to call the man right now. He was here as both a player and the man dating his daughter.

“Sit, Lachley,” Bugsy said, meeting his gaze, his expression unreadable.

Desmond dropped into the chair.

“I want to say that I really do care about your daughter and this wasn’t how we wanted you to find out.”

“Let’s get this out of the way. I talked to my daughter. She cares about you, but she’s young, fresh out of college, and there are a million reasons why dating a hockey player could be detrimental to her career path,” Bugsy started. Desmond sat forward, wanting to respond, but Bugsy held up his hand. “I’m not done.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know about her mother? Probably not since Rylie isn’t a big fan of her right now. Her mother was a known puck bunny. We hooked up, she got pregnant, and we got married. Her only goal was to land a hockey player, and she did. Now, Rylie has hooked up with you. She’s already scrutinized for working for the team that I coach; add in dating a hockey player, what’s that going to look like to everyone? How do you think her coworkers will treat her? I can see it now: puck bunny’s daughter working for her dad’s team and dating a player. Apple doesn’t fall far.”

“I know it wasn’t the smartest move on our part, but I’m in love with your daughter,” Desmond said.

“It sure as fuck wasn’t. I’m not going to let her name get dragged through the mud. Not to mention, you just got out of a long-term relationship. Is she your rebound? You haven’t known each other very long, and you’re in love with her? Pretty quick, if you ask me.”

Desmond bit back the urge to tell Bugsy where he could shove those accusations, but he couldn’t ignore that every one of them was true—except the rebound. Rylie wasn’t a fucking rebound.

“Clearly, you have some things to think about. Do the right thing, Lachley. She’s young. Just starting her adult life. Don’t mess this up for her.”

“Just to be clear, she is not a rebound for me. She would never be a rebound. I told you that I’m in love with her, and I know it’s fast, and she’s a few years younger than me, and maybe we’re in different places in our lives, but she’s not a fucking rebound. Have some respect for your daughter.”

“Don’t speak to me like that,” Bugsy fired back, but Desmond caught what he hoped was a glimmer of appreciation for Desmond’s defense of his daughter. “Think about what this will do to her and do the right thing.”

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