Page 86 of Puck Happens

“Is this really your car?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Does it work?”

Sometimes. Less than it used to. “Of course.”

“It is a very ugly car. I think it should be against team rules for an assistant coach to have such an ugly car.”

“What do you want, Novek?”

He looked around the entire parking lot as if to assure himself we were alone. Basic feminine nerves kicked in. Why was it important to this guy, who’d made it clear he didn’t like me, that we were alone?

“Is it true about Montreal?” he asked.

“It’s just a first interview,” I said, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“You can’t go.” He licked his lips. “I need you.”

I picked my jaw up off the floor. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah. I need you…to make me better.”

Oh, I laughed. I laughed so hard I had to put my duffle bag down and wipe my eyes. “You’re just figuring this out now?” I asked him.

“I am not…,” he stopped like he was searching for a word. “I have never asked for help. My father…” He shook his head and I saw an entire painful relationship in his dark eyes. “Could not abide weakness. Needing help was weak. Not being the best was weak. I am learning his way is not the only way,” he said. “You have made that boy O’Rourke into a competitor, so imagine what you could do with me. Huh? Imagine the team we could make.”

I could make Novek unstoppable. I could cement my future in the league. Go wherever I wanted.

At what cost? What life would I have seeing Dillon Le Coeur every day? Knowing he wanted me to leave. Maybe growing resentful of me, if I didn’t.

“So,” he said, like it was decided. “I’ll talk to Coach. You will stay.”

“No. No, Novek.” I stopped him. “Please don’t do that.”

His eyes narrowed, and listen, I was not in the habit of crediting Novek with an ounce of perception, but even a broken clock was right twice a day.

“Is this about Cap?” he asked. “Is he bothering you? The team sees the way he watches you.”

Oh no. No no no. “He doesn’t…” the words dried up in my mouth.

“It would be a mistake to have a relationship with him. I once fooled around with my former coach’s wife and it nearly destroyed the team.”

I stared at him blankly. The coach’s wife?

“It’s true,” he nodded. “Hockey and romance are not a mix.”

No shit. He was right. I hated that he was right because it made me such a dumbass for messing around with Dillon in the first place.

In fact, I was going to put it up there with the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I broke the rules, slept with the big oaf, pretty sure sex will never be the same for me, and got my heart pulverized for my trouble.

“No,” I said. “Dillon’s not bothering me. But please don’t get involved. I’m handling things.” This was a lie, but whatever. “In the meantime, let’s meet in the morning for some one-on-one.”

He smiled like a boy at Christmas. “Six?”

Oh God. That meant getting up at five. But if he was willing to listen, I was willing to coach.

“Let’s do it.”

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