Page 41 of Coach's Temptation

And me…

I'm just the team physiotherapist who can't seem to stop wanting him.

Chapter Ten

Hunter

Istand at the front of the players' lounge, arms crossed, gaze scanning the room as my warriors settle in. They’re locked in, focused. Every single one of them knows what tomorrow is.

War.

Vancouver flashes on the projector screen behind me—lines, stats, film footage rolling in slow motion. Their defensive structure, their top goal scorers, their weaknesses.

I've spent hours scouring the opposition, and now it's time for my final presentation. I keep my voice even, controlled, my laser focus on the game plan.

“This is their first line,” I say, tapping the screen. “High speed, quick on transition. Connor, they'll try to crowd your crease early. Push back hard. Make them earn for every inch."

I click to the next slide, footage of Vancouver's top line cycling the puck.

"Their wingers love the back-door play."

Connor nods, jaw set. "Got it, Coach."

That was a test. I know they're focused because there's no giggling at 'back door play'.

"Blake." I pause the video on their defense. "They're going to try to take away your time and space. Quick releases, no hesitation."

"Already on it." Blake leans forward, studying the screen. "That third pairing looks shaky on their transitions."

"Exactly. We exploit that." I tap my tablet, bringing up our power play formation. "They'll be physical, but we stay disciplined. Smart hockey wins playoff games."

The team hangs on my every word as I break down Vancouver's penalty kill. Twenty pairs of eyes locked on the screen, absorbing every detail. This is what I live for—the preparation, the strategy, the—

My voice catches.

There she is. Tucked in the corner, laptop balanced on her knees, coffee cup in hand. But it's not her presence that stops me cold.

It's my hoodie.

Myhoodie.

My team-issued Icehawks hoodie with COACH BRODY printed down the sleeve in gray letters against the dark green fabric. The one I thought was hanging in my closet.

The room spins for a moment.

Is she going through my things? When did she—

Her eyes lift, meeting mine. A tiny smile plays at her lips as she takes another sip of coffee, clearly satisfied that I seem to have noticed.

I force myself back to the presentation. "Their neutral zone trap—" My voice sounds strange in my ears. I click through the remaining slides on autopilot, much too aware of my hoodie draped over that sexy fucking body.

"Tomorrow, we take Game One." I clear my throat, addressing the team. "Nothing less than victory will do."

The room fills with determined nods and fist bumps. Blake's gaze meeting Connor's, Ryder's hand clasping Logan's shoulder, every player radiating the kind of focused intensity that makes my chest swell with pride.

"Now get out of here," I announce. "Relax today, and for the love of God, take it easy. Eli's expecting you at Ridgeview. Team dinner is on me."

Cheers erupt as the guys file out, their energy electric, ready for battle. But I barely notice. Natalie's looking at me with those questioning green eyes, clearly wondering if I'm going to react to whatever game she's playing right now.

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