Page 40 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

“Is that right?” comes the flat voice of Coach Marsh.

We crane our necks and see him grab a plate off the table in front of the buffet before dishing up some of the eggs and bacon we nearly cleaned the hotel out of. With the help of Ashley, I’ve come to the conclusion that Coach Marsh isn’t a bad coach, he just leads with tough love. And when you’re new to the team and haven’t taken the time to get to know us, that tough love just feels tough and not like anything close to love. Then again, this is his first time on this planet, so maybe he’s still figuring stuff out too.

“Yes, that’s right,” I say proudly. “She’s a businesswoman and a single mom. In fact, I’ve become somewhat of a mentor to her son.”

Benny looks up from where he’s been texting with Kaitlyn. He’s having a hard time on his first road trip since Mei was born. Poor guy looks like he actually misses baby spit up and full diapers. It’s a mystery to me, but he seems happy right now, shooting me a shit-eating grin.

“She finally gave you the time of day, huh?” He and Kaitlyn are well aware of my attraction to Molly. Mostly because Chloehas a big mouth and told them about me checking her out when she dropped Matthew off at practice.

Coach plops his plate down next to me. “I’d like to speak with Bobby privately.”

The guys all look at each other in bewilderment before scraping their chairs back and heading out of the room. The silence is only broken by Coach shoveling scrambled eggs in his mouth. And thatdoesmake me want to punch someone in the face. I run through all the mental exercises Ashley’s given me and then run through them again before Coach wipes his mouth with a napkin and addresses me.

“My wife seems to think you’re the linchpin.” He folds his hands over his slight paunch and assesses me.

“Uh...” I only met his wife once, the day after we were told Marsh would be our new coach. She was a small, dark-haired woman who was mostly unremarkable. I have no clue why she’d refer to me as a linchpin. I don’t even really know what a linchpin is.

“She says that you’re the key to getting this team gelling again.”

I’m so confused. Is he mad at me? Little drops of spit aren’t flying out of his mouth like I’m used to. He’s just stating things and staring at me. It’s highly unnerving. He’s clearly waiting for an answer, and I have no idea what he wants from me.

“Uh, well. I would look toward Dan-O or Druggy for that. They’ve been with the team longer.”

Coach is already shaking his head, and I brace for the inevitable yelling. “No, that’s not what I’m looking for. You see, I came to Tampa, ready to lay down the law. Be the alpha. Get you boys in line.” I’m nodding, yet I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. “But it’s not working. We’re not gelling. We’re not in aflowyet.”

I pinch my arm and nearly jolt from the pain. Yep, not having a nightmare where I’m stuck in a conversation with Coach that makes absolutely no sense. When all else fails, I channel my inner Ashley and ask a question instead.

“How can I help you, Coach?”

It’s apparently the right question because he smiles. Like, shows his teeth and his eyes crinkle up and everything. He claps me on the shoulder like my Dad used to do when us boys did something good instead of fucking things up.

“I’m impressed by your change in behavior so far, Bobby. I might not even have to saddle you with a roommate on our next road trip. How about we have dinner tonight and talk about it?”

I’m just barely able to hold back the grimace. Dinner with Coach is the last thing I want after an away game. First, no beer. Now, dinners with Coach? This growing up thing is utter bullshit.

“Can’t wait, Coach,” I finally squeeze the words through my throat.

He gives me a dismissive head nod and pulls out his cell phone. I take the opportunity to grab my backpack and get out of there. I have two hours before I need to be at the rink. Plenty of time to text Molly. I head for my room, only to see a tube sock hanging from the doorknob. I lift my gaze to the ceiling and groan. Isn’t Dan-O too old to be whacking off to his wife on Facetime?

“Come on, Dan-O,” I mutter, turning around and going back down the elevator to find a quiet place to curl up with my book and Molly. I end up in the courtyard of the hotel behind a green plant that’s barely holding on in the Chicago chill air. I pull my jacket farther around me and crack my book open to page fifty-two of the101 Questions to Ask Your Long-Distance Partner. It’s a little preemptive since we’re not dating yet, but I saw it atthe airport and figured it would be a good way to get to know Molly.

Me: Inquiring minds need to know: what’s your love language, Sparkle?

Molly: Oh jeez, Ramona, my best friend, made me read that book after my divorce. Apparently, it’s possible to score high in all five.

I wince, snuggling down into my jacket farther when the wind kicks up. Doesn’t sound like she had a very good marriage. Clearly, she didn’t, since they’re divorced, but damn, did he not give her any forms of affection?

Me: Only extremely lovable people would score high in all five.

Molly: You’re too kind. Or maybe a bit delusional...

Me: What’s your ideal date?

Molly: April 25th

Me: ???

Molly: Oh my god! Have you not seen that romcom? You have to see it!!

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