Page 8 of The Fine Line
RHETT
“I’m sorry, Bear. I’m trying.”
I know it’s not enough the second the words leave my mouth. The look on Coach Barrett’s face—tight, unreadable—confirms it.
“Well, trying isn’t enough anymore, Sutton,” he mutters, his voice low and sharp as we stop in the hallway outside the press room.
I shift my weight, resisting the urge to run a hand over the back of my neck. “This isn’t something you just… learn overnight, you know? I’m— I’m not a natural-born leader, okay?”
“Oh, trust me. I’m aware,” he says, and it lands like a punch. “But you’re going to have to figure it out.”
I let out a breath and glance down the hallway, wishing I could pace. Wishing I could be anywhere but here. “Yeah, well… what if I can’t?”
“That’s not an option.”
Of course it isn’t. Nothing ever is with him. “Idon’t know what you want from me, Bear,” I mutter. “I told you— I’m not ready for this. I’m not…”
My voice trails off. I almost don’t want to say it out loud. But I do.
“I’m not him. I’m not Bennett.”
Bear’s jaw tightens, and I can see the flash of frustration in his eyes before he speaks. “And boy, do I know it,” he says, like it physically pains him. “Bennett is someone I trust. Someone I believe in. Someone I know cares about this team just as much as I do.”
He pauses.
“And for whatever reason, he believes in you.”
“I didn’t ask him to do that,” I say quickly. Too quickly.
“And it doesn’t matter. Because it’s done.” He exhales. “It may be against all my better judgment, but the facts stand. This is your eleventh season in the NHL. Your tenth with the Storm. Even if I still see you as the loose-cannon kid I reluctantly agreed to take a shot on, the reality is—you’re a veteran now. The guys look up to you. The fans adore you. And with Bennett’s endorsement—not just to me, but to the GM and the rest of the back office—my hands were tied.”
I stare at the floor and blow out another breath, slow and steady. My shoulders feel like they’re bearing the weight of the whole arena.
Because, well, they are now.
“But the main thing you’re forgetting here, kid,” he says, voice calmer now, “is that you accepted the job.”
I close my eyes for a second, swallowing hard. My hands move to the back of my neck, fingers curling in my hair the way they always do when I’m trying to hold myself together.
“I know.”
“So do it,” he tells me. “And don’t make me regret allowing you to.” He claps a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got apractice to lead in twenty minutes. Get your head in the game before then—or I’ll do it for you.”
Bear turns on his heel then, and even though he’s halfway down the hall in seconds, I don’t move. I just stand there, watching until he disappears around the corner toward his office.
Then I mutter under my breath, “That an option, Bear? Because I’ll fucking take it.”
I’m alone now. Just me, the echo of his words, and a hallway that suddenly feels too damn quiet.
I take a few unsteady steps backward, shaking my head.
I catch something out of the corner of my eye—and immediately come to a stop.
“Oh shit,” I mutter.
Because I’m not alone.
Caroline.
