Page 24 of Pucking Obsessed

Coach clenches his jaw.

If any of us players tried that, coach would bust our balls.

Heine snatches a Bay Rebels logo baseball hat (our bestselling merch), and shoves it over his wavy hair like he’s never worn a baseball hat before.

He probably hasn’t.

He throws his head back dramatically, fixing his gaze on me. “Do I look cute?”

“You look like a dick,” I reply, coolly.

“D’Angelo,” coach says with clear warning in his tone.

Robyn chuckles.

Heine flushes, before grabbing the hat and hurling it over the table toward me.

It hits my chest. I don’t flinch.

“I was making a point.” Heine smooths down his hair. “The hat is cheap and tacky. I want the merchandise changed. Your marketing and PR is boring.”

My eyes flash with rage.

“If you look at the numbers,” I grit out, “you’d see that sports merchandising sales have more than quadrupled since the start of the season. Aren’t the statistics in that thick file in front of you, Charles, or is it only filled with the incriminating evidence on why my ass should be kicked?”

“There’s no need to be aggressive,” Colton sneers, shaking his head. “You always need to control everything. You’re not running this meeting. Don’t be so sensitive.”

I ball my fists.

Robyn places her hand gently on my shoulder; it’s grounding. “Well, I wouldn’t want to bore you, Mr. Heine. After all, this club is your new toy, isn’t it?”

I smirk, taking a deep breath.

Heine frowns. “Then I’m going to start to play. Take a seat.”

My skin itches.

It doesn’t feel right that Heine is directing this meeting.

I glance at the seats in front of coach. It’s a dangerous time, when the safest place in a room is close to a hard-ass like Robyn’s dad.

I glance at Robyn, before pointing at the empty chairs.

Robyn nods, moving with Shay to settle in the seats in front of her dad.

I don’t miss that coach uncrosses his arms and takes a step closer to Robyn protectively. Then he appears to make a decision, pulling back the chair next to Shay and sitting down.

When I move to follow Robyn and Shay, however, Bronwyn stops me.

“Not you, son.” Bronwyn’s eyes twinkle like he’s a jovial grandad. He isn’t. “Stay standing.”

The tips of my ears become red.

So, this is a public humiliation.

I deliberately stalk back to the head of the table like I don’t care that I’m the only person in the room still standing.

This is truly a trial.

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