Page 94 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

Christopher

"Again." I bark.

The clatter of groans and skates rings through the stadium. The boys on my team aren’t special, but they aren’t bad. They just need discipline, something only one of my star students has: Josie. She sits on the other side of the stadium despite my politely asking her to sit next to me, which only proves to me that next time, I won't ask.

Asking with her has gotten me nowhere; she avoided me for three weeks after agreeing to let me coach her. It's now damn near fucking Thanksgiving, and I haven't seen her once. I had to pick her up from her final class today at 4 p.m. to make her come to the rink. I told her if she moved, she would be suspended from the rink because she needed my permission to use it anyway.

Having Josie at tryouts isn't ideal. The boys kept whistling at her and earned a round of suicides because they got whipped up into a frenzy when she put her hair into a ponytail. I mean, who could blame them? This girl is mine, and I am not much of a sharer. She doesn't know that yet, so I can't blame her for her flirtations, but I can punish everyone around her for looking.

Right now, the boys are on their final lap, and I am more than ready to kick them out of the stadium, peel off that princess layer, and give all my attention to my little hellion. She is doing the terribly naughty task of chewing on the end of her pen as she marks up an old copy ofThe Tempest.How fitting that my temptation only learns more ways to torment me.

"Kelsey, you're behind!" My assistant coach and best friend since grade school, Caleb, barks at the players. Caleb and I have been inseparable since birth and probably will be that way until death. Caleb has dirty blonde hair with dyed green tips, no tattoosbecause the punk is scared of needles, but a bright smile that practically melts panties.

He elbows me in the side, lowering his voice. "You're staring."

"Can't help it." I automatically said back, watching as she pulled at her leg warmers and shuffled her legs to get comfortable on the bleachers.

Caleb scoffed, shaking his dirty blonde hair in his face. "The boys are skating over; tear your eyes away from the jail bait before they notice."

I dart my eyes back to the ice, muttering in a low tone. "She is perfectly legal."

"Oh, I know, but is it perfectly moral?"

"Shut up." I scoff, letting out a low chuckle before averting my attention back to the players lining up in front of me.

"Well, boys, you aren’t complete disappointments.” Caleb laughs, but I narrow my eyes on the players, school my face to look uninterested and grab the clipboard I've been writing notes on all practice off the bench.

"Isaiah, your left is always open!" I bark, watching the kid straighten up, his face flushing with frustration. "Every damn time, you're leaving a gap wide enough to drive a truck through. Fix it, or next time you're benched."

Conner shifts nervously next to him, already sensing he's next. "And you, Conner," I say, not bothering to lower my voice. "How many times do I have to tell you? You're hesitating on the puck. Hockey is not the time for second-guessing. You see an opening, you take it. Not tomorrow. Not when you're ready. Right now."

He nods stiffly, but I can see the doubt in his eyes. I roll mine, turning to the next player. "Hunter, stop skating like a damn ballerina. This isn't a dance class; keep your stance low. You're going to get wrecked if you keep gliding around like that."

Hunter opens his mouth, probably ready with some excuse, but I cut him off with a sharp wave of my hand. "I don't want to hear it. If you don't start skating like you have a spine, you'll be sitting in the stands next time."

I ignore him, moving on to the next. "Mason, your stick handling is sloppy as hell. It's embarrassing. If you can’t keep the puck under control, what the hell are you even doing out here?"

I catch movement in the corner of my eye—Josie’s still sitting on the bleachers, adjusting her leg warmers, a faint smirk on her lips. My chest tightens for a second, and I grit my teeth, forcing myself to focus back on the team.

"Thomas," I growl, "You're dragging ass. If I see you skating that slow in a game, you're off the ice. Period."

Thomas’s eyes widen, and I see the panic settling in. Good. Fear works.

"And Kelsey," I add, turning toward the forward who’s been barely keeping up with drills. "You're behind. Again. Pick up the pace, or I’m sending you to run laps until you puke."

I roll my shoulders back and fold my arms over my chest, signaling to Caleb that I am done.

Caleb claps his hands, stepping forward. "Alright, that’s enough for today. Hit the showers, all of you."

As the boys shuffle out, I lower my voice so only Caleb can hear. "Keep them out of the rink."

"Got it, boss. Make sure she's not too loud. I can't really make the boys cover their ears." Caleb jokes, and I push him so hard out of the penalty box he almost falls on his face.

"Josie!" Mason, a brown-haired, hulk-looking boy, smiles, waving at her as he makes his way from the locker room and closer to her. A wide grin splits his face, and I feel my heart drop as she looks up at him, her smile brightening like a damn sunrise.

She shifts her book off her lap, focusing entirely on him.

"Hey, I was wondering?—"

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