Page 105 of The Pucking Player

“Story of my life lately.”

We’re both grinning now, the ice between us finally thawing. Then a voice booms across the rink.

“What the hell are my captain and star winger doing on the ice at this hour on agamenight?”

Coach’s footsteps echo through the rink as he approaches, looking more resigned than angry.

“Morning, Coach.” I try to sound casual, like firing pucks at five a.m. is my normal pre-game routine.

“Save it, O’Connor.” He stops at the boards, taking in the pile of pucks in the net. “Both of you are supposed to be resting. Historic record tonight. Ring any bells?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Adam and I say in unison, then look at each other, surprised.

Coach pinches the bridge of his nose. “My star players,sleep-deprived before the biggest game of the season. Perfect.”

“Dad,” Adam starts, “we need a favor. For tonight’s game.”

Coach’s eyes narrow. “What kind of favor?”

“Access to the sound system. And maybe keep security posted by section one hundred fourteen.”

“The sound system.” Coach looks between us. “Why?”

I meet his gaze steadily. “Because I want Sophie back, and I want to let her know what she means to me.”

Something shifts in Coach’s expression—not quite approval but understanding. He picks up a stray puck, turning it over in his hands.

“You wore a wire into Volkov’s club.”

“I did.”

“Could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“Had backup. My friend on the force.”

He nods slowly. “That why you didn’t fight back? During all those extra drills?”

“Figured I deserved worse after hurting her.”

Coach is quiet for a long moment, just the sound of the puck hitting his palm. Finally, “No more punishment drills. You need to be sharp tonight.” He tosses me the puck. “For the team.”

As we gather our gear, his voice carries across the ice one more time.

“O’Connor?”

“Coach?”

“I’ll talk to the sound guys.”

I nod in his direction, making my way off the ice, Adam following close behind.

“So,” Adam says as we hit the locker room. “You’re really going to do it? In front of twenty thousand people?”

“And your terrifying father.” I start unlacing my skates. “And probably half the league’s front office.”

“You realize if she shuts you down, it’ll be all over social media in about thirty seconds?”

“Thanks for that mental image.”

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