Page 26 of Breaking the Ice
“Honestly, I don’t think I had even made it up, not til today,” Gavin said.
“I’m gonna remind you of that, every chance I get.”
That was fair. Gavin had almost fucked this up. But he wasn’t going to come close to making any of those same mistakes again.
“And while you’re at it, send me all the game tape you can get your hands on,” Gavin said. “Especially everything with McCoy and Jones.”
“Sure.” He could hear the smile in Zach’s voice. “Glad you’re back on board, Coach.”
“Me too,” Gavin said and knew it was true.
Chapter 5
July
It was one of the wildest, most exhilarating days of Zach’s life, and it still wasn’t over yet.
The team had held a press conference this morning, introducing Gavin to the public, and like everyone had expected, it’d been absolute chaos.
Ever since the Evergreens had released an announcement that Gavin had signed the contract, the media had gone berserk.
Itwasa good story. Zach knew just how good of a story it was. Coach returns to the scene of his early success, after being off the grid and out of hockey for years due to the traumatic death of his wife?
Everyone was eating it up, even more than Zach—and he thought Gavin, too—had expected, and he couldn’t help but worry that the fever-pitch excitement was actually going to scare Gavin off.
He was just rejoining the land of the living after all, and Zach imagined just being around people must be overwhelming. Nevermind the wild packs of press pushing him for hisopinions on everything from the pedicabs dotting the Portland streets to the Evergreens’ upside to if he was going to start Jones and McCoy on the same line.
Then there were all the questions about Finn. His dad had naturally opened his mouth and made a few comments during a podcast, because Morgan Reynolds was notoriously incapable of leaving anything alone.
“That guy,” Gavin had muttered, after they’d finished the press conference and he’d gotten a second to catch his breath, Zach ushering him to a quiet room.
Zach couldn’t say how hereallyfelt about Morgan, because that was too tangled up in what he knew about what had gone down between him and Hayes. But he could still say, with one-hundred-percent honesty, “We need to do what we can to insulate Finn from all that.”
Gavin nodded. He twisted the water bottle in his hands. “We’ll see what we can do.”
It suddenly occurred to Zach as he leaned against the wall that this was the first time they’d been alone together since Gavin had come to Portland.
It had been a whirlwind, no question. After a few weeks of negotiations, Gavin had come to town to sign the contract, but of course Swift had been there, along with about half a dozen PR representatives, making sure every second of it was documented.
They’d gone to dinner, after, and sure enough Sidney Swift had been there, along with several other members of the athletic director’s staff.
There’d been no opportunity to get Gavin alone, to talkabout what they were doing. To ask—if he managed to actually get up the nerve—if one of the reasons Gavin had come back to Portland had been forhim.
Just the question was breaking Zach’s mind apart. He’d never have even considered it, but that moment on the couch had happened. Zach might’ve dismissed it, but then unlike what he’d expected—unlike what Gavin had insisted, over and over again—Gavin had actually fucking taken the job.
Hayes had been the one to say it. Texting him when they’d gotten past the initial contract negotiation and Zach had felt like he could tell him what was going on:I can’t fucking believe I was right. Are you freaking out?
Maybe Hayes was his best friend, and he’dnormallytell him everything, but even typing it out felt too real.
Too much anactualpossibility.
So he just sent Hayes a thumbs-up. He’d replied that he didn’t know Zach was chickenshit now.
Honestly, that was fair.
But he was trying tonotbe chickenshit now.
It still wasn’t the right time, but theywerealone together.
