Page 55 of Your Pucking Mom

Coach simply nodded. “What were you doing back there with Hart’s mom?”

Coach’s question jolted me out of my thoughts, the nervous energy rising within me. “Uh, just helping her out. She hates turbulence,” I replied, trying to keep my tone casual despite the unease gnawing at me.

Coach wasn’t one to let things slide easily. His gaze bore into me, probing for more details. “Is that so?” he pressed, his voice laced with curiosity and concern.

I shifted in my seat, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. “Yeah, nothing major,” I mumbled, hoping to downplay the situation.

Coach’s eyes narrowed, his suspicion evident. “Alright, well, if you say so,” he said, his tone leaving no room for further discussion.

“Why?” I asked.

Coach huffed out a sigh. “Don’t be fucking up, Cole. You keep your dick well and tight in your pants?—”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, spitting water all over the car. “What?!”

“Dude,” I complained, lifting the sleeve of my suit, which was covered in his spit.

“I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “But did Coach say that you need to keep your…dick?—”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut it.”

He pretended he didn’t know exactly what Coach was talking about. I’d told him and Stassi all about Auburn, but after one side-eye from me, he shut up, knowing his act was taking it too far.

Coach sighed and leaned deeper into the seat. “Don’t fuck this up, Cole.”

“I’m not doing anything. For the record, we’re just friends.”

Alex looked between us. “Cool. Cool. Then it sounds like it’s all resolved.” He looked over at Coach. “Yeah?”

Coach stared at me for a moment before turning to look out at the street. “Yeah. Friends.”

There was a heavy silence as I hesitated, wanting to say something. After what happened between Auburn and me on the plane—even though we were supposedly just friends—Coach seemed to be picking up on the fact that there was more going on between us.

When he caught me after our first home game skating with Auburn on the ice, I’d convinced him that nothing happened, or so I thought.

“What do you want from me?” I demanded, leaning toward him. Anger coursed through my veins. “You put me back there with them. She was panicking, so whatever you think you saw, you didn’t.”

Coach narrowed his eyes on me. “She didn’t barge off the plane because of something you said?”

“Aw, shit.” I chucked my phone at Alex, and he lifted his hands and laughed at me.

“Fuck off. Both of you need to chill.” Coach’s eyes narrowed at me. “Respectfully.”

“There just will be a huge-ass shitstorm if you were to be anything but”—Coach paused—“friends with her.”

I sighed. “I swear. I don’t want to risk the team. As much shit as I give him, the child has been doing fucking good and working hard at coming together as a teammate. It would be a low blow.”

Coach seemed to take my words in and nodded as if he approved. “Good. I’m glad you understand.”

The car stopped, and we got out so Coach could help Nova and the other staff figure out our room situation. Alex pulled me aside as I grabbed the bag.

“Did you manage to sort things out on the plane?” he asked, his tone conveying genuine concern. That night, I had told him everything about hooking up with Auburn, confessing every detail. Understanding the need for discretion, he’d agreed that it had to remain a one-time thing for the sake of the team, so he was checking if we had put our hookup behind us.

I shook my head. No, we hadn’t resolved anything. The tension between us hung heavy, driven by my insecurities and misplaced jealousy. It was time to confront it, even if it meant owning up to my own flaws.

“Yeah, I told Coach…just friends,” I said, forcing more confidence into my voice than I actually had.

Alex gave me a look, but I shook him off. I didn’t want to talk about it again. If I convinced myself we were just friends, then that was what we would be. “You sure you don’t want to come with me to the bar?” Alex pointed across the street where a little dive bar with a neon sign hanging on for dear life stood. “I guess that’s where the kids decided to go tonight.”

---