Page 11 of Unraveling Rain
“The love of your life has arrived. Don’t close yourself off to this opportunity.”
I shake my head, smirking to myself.
Who could she possibly be talking about?
Whoever he is, he'd better like the outdoors and outspoken women—because I’m not changing for anyone.
Chapter 4
Xander
After packing a few essentials, I lock up my apartment and head to the Red Wolves offices. I need to talk to Coach before making my way to Serene Lookout.
“Xander, good to see you,” Coach greets me, motioning for me to take a seat.
He’s been the coach of the Carolina Red Wolves for over fifteen years. Before that, he was a forward for the team and played his entire career here at home. He’s a Southern man,born and raised.
“Hey, Coach.”
“Glad you finally decided to show up,” he says, shifting in his chair.
I release a deep breath as I sit down and meet his gaze. “Yeah. About that.”
I start and stop a couple of times before finding the right words.
It’s incredible—after six weeks of simmering in these feelings, I still don’t have the words. Or the courage. I guess that’s why I’m going to Serene Lookout.
To untangle this mess.
“I’m sorry, Coach. This injury… is beyond my shoulder.”
I rub gently at the scar the surgery left. It’s completely healed, but I still haven’t regained full range of motion.
“I’ve had an amazing career. My time at Carolina has been nothing short of incredible, but I also know I’m not getting any younger, and my chances of winning the Cup are getting slimmer.”
“What aren’t you saying, Xander?” Coach asks.
I know I need to let it all out. I’ve allowed all these feelings to fester for too long. Coach has been nothing short of extraordinary during my time with the team. If there’s anyone who’ll understand, it’s him.
“I don’t want to retire before winning the Cup. I need to live up to my family’s legacy.”
There it is, the fucking pressure that doesn’t let me rest at night.
“Listen, son,” Coach says, standing from his chair and settling on the edge of his desk in front of me.
“I completely understand what you’re saying, but where is this coming from? Is your grandfather pressuring you? Or is this self-inflicted?”
His words are gentle. Coach has always cared about us as human beings, not just hockey players.
“I don’t know, Coach. I think it’s a mix of both,” I admit, avoiding his eyes.
He raps his knuckles on his desk as he stands, then starts pacing the length of his office.
“I can’t say it surprises me. You’ve always been an upstanding guy, wanting to do right by anyone you know. But I can almost guarantee your grandfather wouldn’t think any less of you, or be any less proud for that matter, if you don’t win the Cup.”
I finally meet his gaze, and he laughs. I’m giving him anAre you for real?kind of look.
“Times have changed, Xander. The sport has evolved. There are more teams than when he was a player,” Coach says, eyes steady on mine. “And I say this as your coach, not as a friend or a fan. You are one hell of a player. You’ve always come back stronger after an injury, inspiring everyone on the team to give 110 percent all the time.
