Page 8 of Crossing Lines

“Uh, yeah?” I took a quick skate backward and glanced at Mason, snickering at me.

Pointing two of his fingers at my eyes, then his own, Coach said, “Focus on what I’m saying here, Boehm. What the hell is so interesting at the other end of the rink anyway?”

Myles barked out a laugh, then clipped it short as his gaze met mine.

I glared at him. I knew what he was thinking. My every move was going to be watched now. I was sure to hear about this after practice. “N-nothing. Um, just making sure?—”

“He’s interested in the new coach,” Mason shouted, skating by me, his stick out on the ice in front of him. “Right, Boehm?”

“Hopkins…” I said through my teeth, then snuck a peek at Coach Gibson, whose gaze snapped to mine. Shit, he heard that. “Yeah, uh, just watching the take he has on the blue line shuffles they’re doing.” With a shake of my head, I twisted my lips. That sounded stupid.

Coach Finley took a quick skate to me. “You want to practice with them?” He quirked the corner of his mouth.

“Um, no.” I hung my head and patted my stick on the ice. Now even my coach was fucking with me.

“Good, because we need to work on your shooting.” Coach swiveled and skated a loop around us. “Michigan’s goalie is probably as good as Ace, so you’re going to need to find a way around him.”

I nodded. I had to keep my head on my own shit. Hopefully, I could keep my focus on the game with Coach Gibson standing behind our bench on Friday and Saturday.

The next day,after working out, classes, and another practice where I fought the good fight and only looked at Coach Gibson a handful of times, I got dressed in the locker room, then grabbed my duffel. I was the last one there. I’d tweaked a hammy at practice and had taken some extra time on the rollers stretching it out. I didn’t need an injury right before game day.

As I strolled into the hallway, Coach Gibson’s voice struck me. He sounded off, not the upbeat guy I’d seen at practice. I crept a few steps farther and stopped at the entrance to the coaching office.

“I’m working on Friday night.” He huffed. “Yes, and Saturday. Hockey games are on Friday and Saturday nights.”

I peeked around the corner at him. Who the hell was he talking to?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he hung his head and paced the office. “Listen, I don’t know if—” He lifted his head, his breath catching. “Yeah, fine. We can meet up tonight. Where?”

My chest heated. Was he making a date with someone? His boyfriend? I grabbed the fabric of my sweatshirt over my chest. Of course he’d have brought his boyfriend down here with him. But then why explain to him about our game days? Surely, his boyfriend would already know about them.

“On second thought, no, I can’t tonight. I have to get up early and… Yes, I want to see you.” He tsked. “New Year’s Eve was fun, yes.” He nodded and paced across the room.

What the fuck? He met a guy on New Year’s Eve? I rubbed my fingers over my mouth and knitted my brows. Maybe he hadn’t brought his boyfriend down here after all. Did that mean he was essentially single, except for this knob he was talking to on the phone? As my pulse picked up, I breathed in deeply.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll figure something out. Maybe after the game on Saturday?” he asked. “Yeah, bye.” He growled.

I stepped out into the doorway.

His gaze snapped to mine. “Oh, hey. Boehm, right?” With a charming smile, he set his phone on the desk and stepped to me, hand out. “I don’t think we’ve had a chance to formally meet.”

Sparks shot up my arm when I shook his warm hand. “Yeah, hi.” The ice-blue of his eyes so close mesmerized me. I squeezed his hand tighter. I didn’t want to let him go.

With a slight chuckle and a tick of his brows, he pulled free of my hand. “So, what can I do for you?” He planted his hands onhis hips, then raked his gaze over me, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip.

Goddamn, he was something. Gorgeous as fuck, especially up close. How was Tyler able to focus on anything when they were working together? I thought hard. This was my chance to talk to him. What do I say? With a soft chuckle, I brushed my hand over the back of my head. “Oh, I didn’t have anything in particular. Just thought I’d say hello. I’m, uh, from Minnesota, so not too far from Toronto.”Dumb, Jonah!

“Yeah? Did you play in juniors up there?” He shifted his stance, studying me.

“I did. Me and Archer met in camps in Minnesota. I’ve been friends with him since…” I blew out a breath. “Well, since we were ten.”

“Carlson, yeah. He’s really coming along. When he plays well, the guy’s unstoppable.” He lifted his chin. “I hear he’s got a chance at the Coyotes training camp this summer.” He stepped forward and tapped my chest with his knuckles.

My chest tingled and I held my breath, focusing on his lips. I was in so much trouble. How was I going to get through the games this weekend?

“Well, I’ve made it my mission to make sure he gets a shot at the NHL. His dad, Coach Dupont, is a great man and an excellent coach. I’ve studied his methods and plan to incorporate them into our practices.” His gaze fell to my mouth for a beat, then popped up. “And what about you? What are your plans after this season?”

I shrugged. “Well, I’ll either go to medical school or go free agent. Guess it depends on if I get any scouts coming around looking at me.” My stats were good this year, and hopefully, I could fit in somewhere.

---