Page 16 of Love in Overtime

I can’t take any credit for the fruit basket, and welcome gifts for coaches or anyone else aren’t my style anyway.

The coach runs his hand through his thinning hair. “It was an impressive gesture, very unexpected.”

Blair isveryimpressive in so many ways, but I don’t say this out loud.

“I’ll have to thank her when I see her,” he continues. “I’m assuming she’ll be at the media event later.”

Ha. I have no doubt Blair will be like a kid in a candy store at that thing. “Yes, for sure.”

Scotty comes up beside Coach Strickland.

“Hey, Cooper.” He holds up his hand to give me a fist bump.

“I was just telling Cooper his publicist sent me a fruit basket,” Coach tells him.

“Oh, yeah. I got one too,” Scotty exclaims. “My daughter thought it was the greatest thing ever. Nice touch.”

“I had no idea,” I say, trying to avoid any more discussion about Blair. This is supposed to be my happy place where I can drown out the rest of the world.

“All right, time to get warmed up,” Coach says as if he’s reading my mind.

“I’m on it.”

I race to get changed into my gear. Before I hit the ice, I send Blair a quick text.

Fruit baskets, really?

The corner of my mouth curls up as I drop my phone in my bag. One thing is for sure, Blair might be one of the only people who can make me smile. And that proves I’m in big trouble. I need to take a step back. It’s probably a good thing I’ll be surrounded by other players, coaches, and fans for thenext six weeks. More time on the ice means less timealonewith Blair.

You never know what will happen when you bring some of a sports’ top talent together. Egos, personalities, playing styles—anything is possible. It’s our first time playing all together, and the Ice Breakers are a mess. Hopefully it will get better before we’re in front of the fans. Both Coach Doug and Scotty are trying to lead us, but we can’t get into a rhythm. I think we’re all frustrated because we’re professionals who should be able to adapt in any setting.

Scotty is making good suggestions and even joins us in the rink. He guides us through several drills and adjustments and spends some time with Ted “The Bear” Powell and Noah Beaumont on defense. I remember Ted from my college days. His brother Tim played too; the Powells are absolute beasts. It’s obvious the others are just as irritated as I am and with good reason. I can’t remember the last time I played this poorly. Why can’t I find my rhythm?

And then there’s the young Nate Simpson who thinks he’s better than he is. There’s always one on every team.

I’m not sure what Zach Hart will think when he sees us. He might regret all he’s put into this cause, especially if we embarrass ourselves and him. As soon as we finish practicing, Coach Doug gathers us to give an inspiring pep talk. We silently listen as he reminds us of how short our season will be and how every second we’re on the ice matters. When he mentions the Happy Horizons charity, I’m instantly reminded of why I’m here … and Blair. I vigorously run my hand over my forehead and through my hair.

“I expect better tomorrow,” Coach demands.

Ha. So do I.

“Well, that was fun,” Dan says as we all make our way to the locker room.

“Yeah, fun,” I mutter. “I can’t remember the last time I felt so out of sync.”

“Probably one of the times you had to play Dan and the Blizzard,” Dawson says with a smirk.

“Doubtful,” I retort.

“I’m kidding,” he says, patting me on the back.

“That reminds me—is there a statue of you somewhere in this town?” I ask Dan.

“He wishes,” Dawson exclaims.

“No statue, yet,” Dan says with a sly smile. “But they do sell my jersey and spirit wear in Maple Falls Madegift shop. You should run over there and get one before they sell out. I’m number twenty-nine, in case you forgot.”

I give a thumbs-up. “Yes, I’ll get right on that. By the way, my publicist is good friends with someone from your past,” I tell him. “I can’t remember her name, but she runs the farmers market.”

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