Page 1 of Crossing Lines

CHAPTER ONE

JONAH

I’d barely gotten my team T-shirt and joggers on after practice when Coach Patterson walked into the locker room. All the cackling voices hushed. What the hell was going on now? Sure, we sucked a little right after going home for the Christmas holiday, but that happened every year. My gaze swung to the man standing next to him and my breath caught. Holy fuck, who the hell was that?

The guy was wearing a goddamned gray tailored suit like he owned the place, his plentiful arm and shoulder muscles stretching the fabric. His curly brown hair framed the cut of his high cheekbones and angled jawline, long enough to grab onto if he were to be—Get your mind out of the fucking gutter, Jonah.I swallowed hard, then swept my tongue over my lips.

His gaze flicked to mine, the light blue of his eyes holding me captive.

My jaw dropped open and I stared, just ogled the guy like he was dancing in a G-string on a pole at the gay bar, and then my dick took notice. Fuck me.

“Gentlemen, I want you all to meet our new defensive line coach.” Coach patted the new guy’s back. “Meet Ryan Gibson. He’ll be assisting Coach Hammett while he’s out scouting.”

Coach Gibson clapped his hands together and sent a smile around the room. “Hello, team. I’m sure you all have some questions,” he said, a Canadian accent tinging his words.

He was young for a coach. At least helookedyoung, like twenty-five tops? Shit, only two years older than me? I shifted my stance, willing my eyeballs to calm the fuck down and quit noticing every little thing about him, like the way his wide shoulders contrasted with the narrowness of his hips. Oh, and the thigh muscles tightening his slacks.

Mason, our best center, raised his hand, smirking. “You a Canuck, eh?” He swiped a wave of long brown hair off his brow.

With a husky chuckle, Coach Gibson dipped his head. “Yeah, from Toronto,” he said, the city sounding more likeTraantow. He scanned the room. “I was working in a juniors league there when your coach hired me on.”

“Why are you starting in the middle of the season?” Ace, our number one goalie, shifted his large body next to Mason and narrowed his eyes at Coach Gibson.

“I had some family business to take care of before I could move and Coach Patterson here…” He turned his gaze on Coach, his smile fading. “He was nice enough to let me start after the holidays were over.”

The whole room erupted in a long round ofah…

I let a smirk play over my lips. So, the rumors were true. Coach had found an assistant to help Coach Hammett. He must have been waiting to be sure it was a done deal before he let us know, and with the NCAA approving additional coaches over the summer, I couldn’t say I was surprised.

Mason did a double-take of me and a wide smirk spread across his lips.

I mouthed,what, planting my hands on my hips.

Elbowing Ace in the ribs, he snickered and pointed at me, then whispered into Ace’s ear.

With his hand covering his mouth, Ace’s brown eyes twinkled and he chuckled softly.

What the fuck were they going on about now? I huffed a sigh. Juvenile, the two of them.

“Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, so we won’t be seeing you for a few days. In the meantime, try not to overdo it and come back well-rested. I know Coach Gibson has some new drills planned that will whip you boys into top shape.” Coach squeezed Coach Gibson’s shoulder, then released him. “Any other questions before we turn you all loose?”

Around the room, my teammates shook their heads.

“Okay, see you all in the new year.” With a wave, both coaches turned and walked out.

The low rumbling of voices filled the space as everyone packed up their duffel bags and filtered out.

“What?” I tossed a glare at Mason and Ace, both smirking at me. Too bad Archer wasn’t here to see his new coach. But then, Archer had just come back from the revelation of a lifetime, finding out one of the best coaches in hockey, Richard Dupont, was his biological father. Coach had let him leave early to go talk to him.

Mason tagged Ace in the shoulder and they stepped toward me, Mason’s blue gaze fixated on me. “Way to eye-fuck the new coach.” He snickered.

With a scowl and a shake of my head, I said, “I was not?—”

“You sure as hell were. Even I saw it.” Ace arched a brow. “Your face has no filter. Never has.”

“Stop it.” As I tsked, I shrugged a shoulder. “You can’t deny the guy is hot. And how old do you think he is?” I peered at them both. What was the guy’s story, anyway? Had he always wanted to be a coach, or had he somehow fallen into it?

“Yeah, he was hot, all right. Hot stuff.” Mason freed a sharp laugh.

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