Page 9 of Coach's Temptation

Through the chaos of celebration, I catch a glimpse of Hunter.

He isn’t celebrating. Isn’t even smiling.

The color has drained from his face, his usual confident stance crumbling. His fingers curl into white-knuckled fists at his sides, and before I even register what’s happening, he’s slipping toward the door.

No victory shots. No high fives. No shouting predictions with the rest of the coaching staff.

Shit.

This isn't the Hunter Brody I know. The man who barks orders during practice, who commands respect with a single look, who faces down the media without flinching.

The Hunter I know doesn't run from anything.

But right now? He's running.

In fact he's run so fast, he'sgone.

The tavern door swings shut behind him, a blast of cold air cutting through the warmth of celebration led by none other than Eli who is now serving jug after jug of beer, tossing them at whoever grabs it first.

Through the frosted glass, Hunter's silhouette disappears into the night.

My stomach twists. In three years of working with Hunter, through losses and injuries and media storms, I've seen him frustrated. I've seen him angry. I've even seen him disappointed.

But I've never seen him scared.

Until now.

Chapter Three

Hunter

There's a different feel at training today. The clap of skates against the ice is sharper, the sound echoing through the empty practice arena inside Icehawk HQ.

If only my eyes weren't so fucking dry and itchy. That's what I get for staying up all night, stewing in my own demons.

"Ryder!" I bark out, pushing off the boards, tucking the clipboard under my arm. "Where's that hustle, kid? Come on, push harder!"

The boards around my team rattle as Blake checks Ryder into the glass.Again.The rookie barely manages to keep his footing before whipping the puck toward the net.

Connor sprawls into a save, the puck bouncing off his pad with a loud thwack before he smothers it under his glove.

“Try again, rookie,” Connor calls out, grinning like an asshole. "What's happened to you today?"

Ryder flips him off. “Don’t need to score when I can set up Kane for a one-timer.”

Logan Kane grunts as he comes out of nowhere and collects a loose puck, firing it top shelf. Connor barely sees it. The horn blares, and the lines reset to go again.

"Three more! I want these perfect!"

My fingers drum against the clipboard in my hands, grip a little too tight. My focus should be on their positioning, their execution, their puck movement.

Instead, my mind keeps circling back to last night.

The noise at Ridgeview Tavern. The moment our opponent was finalized. The burst of laughter and celebration, the clinking glasses and popping champagne.

I couldn't take it. I needed time to process.

I slipped out, let the door slam shut behind me, and drove straight back to the arena to bury myself in all my thoughts.

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