Page 47 of Cross Check Christmas
The words hit harder than any check I've taken on the ice. These kids don't get it. They don't understand I was just trying to see my brother play, or that I ended up stranded at the arena because...well, because Colette left me there.
My phone buzzes again. Derek's face lights up the screen for the thousandth time today. I ignore it.
"Listen up!" I gather them around. "Whatever you're reading online, whatever your parents are saying - that's not why I'm here. I'm here because?—"
Jake smirks. "Because your agent tells you to be?"
I stuff the phone back in my pocket. These kids are as brutal as the Toronto sports media.
"Five laps, Miller. Now."
"Why don't you go back to Toronto?" he mumbles as he starts a lap. "Heard they miss you there."
Jake's words echo what Colette's been saying since I arrived in Brookking: "Just go back to Toronto, Hendrix. It's where you belong."
Yet I can't forget how she smiled at the game. Not her usual tight-lipped teacher smile, but something real and bright that made the whole box light up. That smile at the game haunts me. For a few precious hours, she'd dropped her guard and just... been herself. She'd forgotten to hate me.
She'd laughed at Maggie’s jokes, gotten excited over the catered snacks, and when Liam made that incredible save in the second period, she'd grabbed my arm without thinking.
I grip the whistle tighter, the metal biting into my palm. Thinking of Liam brings on the memory of Colette walking away, leaving me stranded…
Then there was that moment in Grannie's craft room, pressed together between shelves of yarn and glitter, her breath catching when I leaned in… The way her eyes had flickered to my lips, how she'd swayed toward me…
But now she's back to avoiding me like I'm carrying the plague. This morning, I'd gone full Christmas warfare. It seemed like a brilliant idea at 3 AM - hanging sprigs everywhere she might walk. The school hallways, the costume closet, even that spot by the vending machine where she gets her afternoon Diet Coke. A desperate attempt to see that smile again.
But Colette? She came prepared for war. She'd walked into school wielding a candy cane like a sword, whacking down every sprig she spotted with a determined little furrow between her eyebrows. I shouldn't find it adorable. I really shouldn't.But watching her wage war on my mistletoe, face flushed with determination, hair falling out of her usually perfect bun... it only makes me want to kiss her more.
And that smile I caught at the game? I'm like an addict chasing that first high. I want to see it again, to be the reason for it. Even if it means looking like an idiot
The whistle feels heavier in my hand. "Reset the drill," I call out absently.
Jake finishes his laps, shooting me a glare that makes me want to drill some respect into him. "Done, Coach. Can I go back to actually practicing now?"
I snap back to the present. These kids need a coach who's actually present, not lost in his own drama. I skate to center ice.
"Alright, show me what you've got. And this time, keep those passes crisp!"
The arena doors bang open, and three familiar figures enter the rink.
"Yo, Ellis! You running a daycare now?" Owen's booming voice echoes across the ice.
Sawyer strides in behind Owen, followed by Griffin, both wearing identical grins.
The kids freeze mid-drill, mouths hanging open.
"Holy sh—" Todd starts before I cut him off with a look.
Griffin waves at the stunned teenagers. "Hope you don't mind if we crash practice, Coach Ellis?"
"That's Owen Jablonski!" Jake's stick clatters to the ice.
Todd Jensen actually stumbles backward into the boards.
"What are you guys doing here?" I skate over to meet them at the bench, where they’re already lacing up their skates.
"Thought we'd check out this coaching gig of yours." Owen vaults over the boards. "Make sure you're not corrupting the youth of Canada."
Griffin follows, his massive goalie frame making the boards creak. "Plus, we missed your ugly mug."
