Page 92 of No Pucks

The goalie lifts his hand.

My heart stops.

He stops the puck.

Time runs out on the clock.

Fuck.

Cox Sr. doesn’t even try to hide his celebration. He whoops and grins over at me. It takes everything I have not to give him the bird.

We make it back to the locker room, and I’m at a loss for words. It takes me a minute to formulate something to say. “You guys played a good game. A really good game. That’s not whywe lost. You can beat them. I know you can beat them. We play them again in six weeks. I don’t want any one of you to think they’re better than us. I know they’re not.” That’s all I say. I want it to sink in as I leave them to change.

I know it’s going to be a solemn night at the hotel, and I’m sure most of them will be drunk. I want to catch Logan before he’s half gone, so I don’t spend long in with the other coaches.

When I walk out, I hear something that makes me stop.

“Play stupid games win stupid prizes,” Cox Sr. says, glee filling his tone. Cox Sr.’s attention switches to me, and he squares his shoulders. “This is a private conversation.”

“What are you talking about?” Logan asks.

“Your games with Hawke and your mother.”

Logan’s lips twitch. “It’s none of your business what she does anymore.”

“It’s my business. We’re taking a break, but she’ll come back,” Cox Sr. sneers.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself. I have to go.” Logan meets my gaze.

“He’s right. We have a schedule to keep, and I need Logan. Plus, I’m not going to allow my players to have private conversations with opposing coaches.” I step between them.

“He’s my son,” Cox Sr. spits.

“Not while you’re acting as a coach for a rival team. I’m sure you can understand boundaries.” I almost laugh. He knows the difference.

“This is different,” Cox Sr. snaps. The madder he gets, the calmer I become.

“But it’s not. If you continue to speak to my player, I will have to file a complaint with the league.” I look at my nails, not giving him an inch. He doesn’t scare me anymore. I feel nothing, which is freeing, more than I imagined it would be.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

I lift a brow. “Wouldn’t I? You’re interfering with my team, and I won’t have it. You cannot make him an offer or hound him unless Logan expresses interest, let alone dress him down after a game. It’s inappropriate. If you can’t refrain, I won’t have a choice.”

Cox Sr.’s lips press into a hard line, but he is smart enough to not say anything else to me. His cold gaze instead fixes on Logan. “We’ll speak later.”

“No, I don’t think we will,” Logan manages. “There is nothing to talk about.”

Before Cox Sr. can say anything else to his son, I steer him away.

He turns from his father easier than I expected. “Sorry,” he says, very unlike himself.

I wait until we’re back in the locker room before I say anything. Thankfully, it’s empty. “Come here.”

He lets me take him in my arms. “I hate him.”

“I do too.”

“I can’t let him win again.”

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