Page 44 of Accidentally Fudging the Beast
I'm shocked to see Trent standing in the middle of Coach's wood-paneled office, wearing his serious face—jaw set, lips pursed, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There's a line between his brows you could use for a goal.
Coach is seated behind his desk, hunched over a spreadsheet, but the second I enter, his eyes flick up, his stare sharp and cold.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I blurt to Trent, which is rude, but he's supposed to be at practice, not…not…whatever this is.
Trent doesn't look at me. He's focused solely on Coach. "She shouldn't be here, Coach," he says, his voice pitched low. "This conversation should be between the two of us."
I want to punch him and hug him at the same time. Instead, I just stare, mouth open, waiting for someone to explain what's going on.
Coach leans back, crossing his arms, as if he has all the time in the world to watch two idiots duel to the death with their feelings. "I take it both of you are here about the news I heard from half the staff and at least three of the wives?"
Trent stands a little taller, like he's about to take a puck to the face and plans to do it with dignity. "I'm the one who started it by stalking her all over the training suite, Coach. Trade me, suspend me, I don't care. But don't ruin her career because I couldn't leave her alone. She loves this job."
My entire body seizes. "Trent–" I try, but he cuts me off.
"No," he says, finally looking at me. There's a wild, protective light in his eyes that's equal parts infuriating and sexy as hell. "You're not getting the axe for being with me, Sunshine. I'm not letting you. You've already lost enough in your life. I won't let you lose your job,too. Not for me."
Coach drums his fingers on the desk, the only sound in the room for a good five seconds. Then he sighs, loud and theatrical.
"You two are exhausting," he says. "You know that?"
Trent flinches but doesn't back down.
Coach points at me. "You love your job?"
"Yes." I hesitate. "But I love him more."
He points at Trent. "You love her?"
Trent doesn't even blink. "Yes," he says, like it's a declaration of war.
Coach exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ." He turns his glare on me. "You'd choose him over your career?"
The possibility has never been this heavy or this real before. I look at Trent, at the way he's vibrating with rage and fear and loyalty, and the truth spills out.
"Without hesitation," I whisper.
Coach sighs again, louder. "Fine. No one is getting fired, traded, or suspended. But I swear to Christ, if I hear about you fucking in the rehab room, I'll light you both up so bad you'll wish you were dead. Is that clear?"
Trent looks like he wants to argue, but I step forward, seizing the chance Coach is offering with both hands. "Absolutely, Coach. Crystal clear. Thank you."
He gives us a long, skeptical look, then returns to his spreadsheet as if we're already yesterday's news.
"Get out of my office," he says, not even glancing up.
We both start for the door before Coach speaks up again.
"You're good for him, Dani. He's been less of a pain in my ass since you started."
I glance over at him, surprised. One thing Coach isn't is sentimental or soft. He's honestly kind of terrifying, but he doesn't look so bad right now. Just…quietly amused.
"Maybe he's good for you, too," he murmurs.
I close my eyes, letting his words sink in, and then I smile. "No," I say, my voice crystal clear. "He's the best thing for me."
It's nothing but the truth. I realized that sometime on Christmas Day, when I was in his arms, happy in a way I'd never been despite how miserable I felt. He's the best thing for me.
"Jesus," Trent rumbles.
