Page 12 of A Scoring Chance

“What’s a PSL anyway?” I ask, needing to change the subject quickly.

Alise recoils back, gasping in surprise as her hand clutches at her chest. “Pumpkin spice latte. Damn, you really need to learn there is more to life than working, Mona.”

“Those things are fucking gross and a crime against humanity.” I make a gagging noise, unable to contain my revulsion.

“Don't knock my PSL. Them some fighting words.”

“But you just said...” The loud shrill of the whistle cuts off my statement, probably signaling the end of practice.

My eyes zero in on Cooper and his muscular form as he speaks to the boys. I can’t hear what he is saying, but he has their complete attention. Just then, his head snaps up as if he feels my eyes on him, and our gazes lock. I would love nothing more than to look away from him, but I can’t, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want to. It feels as if every cell in my body has come alive, needing his attention more than my next breath. Whatever this is between Cooper and me, it can mean nothing but trouble. My life is here in Redwood Falls. My family needs me, but more importantly, Darius needs me now more than ever.

“I know what I said. It’s my white girl side. I can't help it. It was written in my DNA.” Alise giggles, breaking the spell once again.

I really should pay closer attention to our conversation, but my eyes flick right back to Cooper as he skates toward the opposite side of the ice, coming to a stop just short of the wall. Instead of exiting the rink, he leans over the waist-high wall, giving me the perfect view of his ass.

“Hmmm,” I say noncommittally, pulling my lip between my teeth as he quickly stands up, a hockey stick in his hand as he skates toward the kids.

“Are you even listening to me?” Alise tugs on my hand, and I turn toward her. She’s grinning just like that creepy cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Let’s get closer to the ice. They’re gettingready for sprints, so practice is almost over. If we’re lucky, we can piss Annamarie off a few more times before it starts.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I focus on her for a few minutes before my eyes drift back toward Cooper. Bless it, this is going to be a huge problem. I can’t even stop looking at the dude for more than a few minutes when we’re in the same vicinity.

“More than you’ll ever know. I’d enjoy it even more if Cooper asked you out right in front of her. Her head would explode.”

One thing I know is that if Cooper Hendrix asks me out on a date, Annamarie’s head isn’t the only thing that is going to explode.

Chapter Four

Cooper

The universe has it out for me. No, I’m not being dramatic; it’s the truth. I resigned myself to staying away from the beauty, I mean Ramona, for my time here in town. Of course, I ran into her at hockey practice tonight, meaning she has a son on my team. But at least she doesn’t have a ring on her finger because that would’ve been a disaster.

When Alise texted me she had a surprise for me at practice tonight, the last thing I expected was Ramona. I didn’t even know she existed before our chance meeting on the road this afternoon. It seems Alise has been holding out on me. No. No. I will not go down this road. Flirting is fun. It’s nice and harmless. Anything else with Ramona could be a disaster.

Coach James blows the whistle twice and calls for the boys to head into the huddle. “Coach Hendrix, are you good with being my guinea pig?”

“Depends on what you want me to do,” I say with a fake smile plastered on my face.

Coach James used to kill us at the end of practice. No, I’m not exaggerating. Sprints are the bane of any athlete’s existence. After a grueling practice, the last thing you want to do is speed drills, but they’re his favorite. I specifically came toward the endof practice, hoping he’d be a little nicer to the kids, but my plan backfired. He’s just as evil as he was back then.

“On the line, Hendrix.”

I don’t say a word as he brings the whistle to his mouth. I know what’s coming, and there’s no way I can tell him no, especially not in front of all these kids. Once I get to the line, I bend down to get into the push-up position. My knee protests slightly, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve been running similar sprints since Murphy cleared me to get back on the ice a few weeks ago. Bending my arms at a ninety-degree angle to ensure I get the best start possible, I nod at Coach to let him know I’m ready.

“I always end my practices with sprints. No goofing around or I’ll make you do more. Understand?” All the boys nod their heads in unison, eyes focused on me. “Usually, we run these up and back, but Coach Hendrix and his knee need the break. He’s only going to demonstrate to center ice before coming back.”

I grit my teeth, wanting to tell him that my knees are fine, but I don’t. I don’t want to appear disrespectful. It’s true my knees aren’t at a hundred percent, but I can still do sprints. I need to make sure that I get through these shorter sprints as quickly as possible. Coach James and my head coach on the Timberwolves are buddies. The last thing I need is him reporting back that there was something off about my skating today or any other time during my time here.

“Don’t give me that look, Hendrix. I know you can do it, but I don’t need Miller riding my ass for you re-injuring your knee.”

“I don’t have nearly enough layers to be laying on the ice for this long, so let’s get a move on,” I respond, causing him to chuckle. “Same routine as high school?”

“Yup. Do each one on a continuous loop to save some time, but turn around at center ice. Keep a good pace coming back. Noneed to go all out this time.” He winks at me before blowing the whistle loudly.

I shoot up off the ice and sprint toward the center line, stopping exactly on center ice before turning around and skating backward toward the goal. The minute I cross the goal line, I stop, spring forward on a full sprint back toward the center line, hockey stop, and then sprint back. I stop on the goal line and wait. Usually, we do some partner-assisted resistance sprints, but since it’s just me, I have no way of doing them.

My knee is screaming in pain as I wait to see if Coach James needs me to show them how to do something else, but I don’t dare show it. I haven’t put it through the paces like that in a while, usually only going about half the speed when I’m on the ice. But after Coach’s comment earlier, I needed to prove to him Icoulddo it. I needed to prove to myself that I could do it, too. The only bad part is I’m going to be paying for it for the next few days. Hopefully, the trainer is still around, and I can grab some ice. If this bad boy swells, I won’t be able to move.

“How did I do, Coach?”

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