Page 6 of Coach's Temptation

"Pfft." Connor puffs up his chest, clearly proud of the facial disaster he's cultivating. "It's called commitment. You should try it sometime."

"It's called a cry for help." Sophia appears at my other side, sliding onto the barstool. Her engagement ring catches the light - because of course Blake would pick out something that sparkles like the ice under arena lights.

I force a laugh at Connor’s beard antics, grateful the conversation has veered away from the dreaded 'commitment' word he slid in there.Again.My mind's been a hamster wheel of Hunter Brody and his damn 'one last time' declaration all day.

Commitment. Ha. That’s rich, considering I grew up watching my parents treat their marriage like a joint business venture. No passion. No love. Just a shared mortgage and barely polite, surface-level conversation over dinner.

Sophia’s hand lands gently on my shoulder. “You okay, Nat?”

I nod too quickly. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long week.”

Not a lie. But not the whole truth either.

Because as much as I tease her, a small part of me wants what she has. Not just the ring, not just the big, over-the-top proposal.

I want the certainty. Someone to look at me like I'm the best damn thing that's ever happened to them. Show the love that I never got to see growing up, but have seen blossom between my newest best friend and Blake Maddox.

Sophia doesn’t look convinced at my answer, but thankfully, Blake appears, sweeping Sophia into a kiss that could melt the snow frosting the windows of Ridgeview Tavern.

I can’t help but smile at their happiness, even as a pang of envy hits me square in the chest.

Connor nudges me with his elbow, leaning in conspiratorially. "Ah, don't be jealous of those two. Blake can't grow a beard to save his life."

Blake's hands move from the back of Sophia's head to smack Connor around the back of his.

"Honey, Blake's facial hair situation is perfect exactly as it is." Sophia says to Connor and flags down Eli for another round. "Unlike whatever wilderness preserve you've got going on."

I snort into my drink, grateful for their banter.

It's easier to focus on Connor's questionable grooming choices than on the way Hunter's been avoiding eye contact since he walked in ten minutes ago. Or how his jaw clenches every time he glances in my direction. Or how my skin still tingles when I remember his hands all over me last night.

Urgh. Not going there. Not now.

Eli saunters over, his energy radiating off him like one of those old space heaters that never dies. "Alright kids, who's ready for the spread?"

I lean over the bar to peek at his masterpiece and -holy hell.

The man has transformed his usual bar food into an actual work of art. Nachos tower like the Swiss Alps, drowning in melted cheese, jalapeños, and what looks like his secret recipe ground beef. Silver platters line the bar, loaded with perfectly golden sliders. Ridgeview's Special Wings gleam with sticky sauce, and there's definitely some kind of bacon-wrapped situation happening over there that's making my mouth water.

"Eli, you've outdone yourself." I gesture at my empty glass. "But I might need anotherHat Trickto soak up all that grease."

He winks, already mixing the cocktail. "Only the best for playoff season, sweetheart. This beauty's got three different kinds of tequila - hence the name."

"The more the merrier."

"And merry you shall be."

Eli passes me the cocktail as Blake and Connor crowd around the bar, diving into hockey talk as the pre-game show starts on the massive screen behind us.

It's Chicago against Vancouver tonight. Winner will face the Icehawks next week in the first game of the playoffs.

"We've beat Chicago threes time this season," Blake grunts from behind me.

I sip my freshHat Trickas Ryder materializes beside Blake, sporting what appears to be... oh God.

"Please tell me that's not permanent marker on your forehead." I point at the red letters spelling 'ICEHAWKS'.

Ryder puffs up his chest. "Ruby Red lipstick. Mia's idea."

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