Page 86 of Cross Check

I let out an awed breath.

I’ve seen plenty of her old game highlights, but Amelia is an even better athlete in person. Her shot is fluid, something I could watch for sixty minutes and not get bored. She told me she felt a calling to coach, but there’s not a doubt in my mind she could sign with a PWHL team tomorrow and be one of the best in the league.

She’s beautiful all the time, but when she’s in her element, she’s fucking devastating.

“No.” I shake my head and fumble with my gloves, sliding them on my hands. “I’d never want you to hold back with me, Coach.”

“Line up,” she says, and the order sends a thrill racing through me. “I’ll start at center ice.”

She passes three pucks my way, and I nail two of them in the cones. The third goes wide left, but I tell myself I’ll have more area to work with on the night of the event. We move to the right side of the rink where I only land one shot. I groan when the third ricochets off the cone and flies toward the boards.

“Eyes on the puck, Everett,” Amelia calls out. “You’re lifting your chin instead of keeping your attention on its path for the duration of your shot. It goes against your instinct to keep your eyes up during a game, but this is a different scenario.”

“Good feedback.” I reposition the cones and pass the pucks back to her. “I’ll fix it.”

And I do. I hit the three cones on the left side in quick succession, the angle perfectly linear from my release to the follow-through. I pump my fist and accept a high five from her as we move to the set of cones on the right.

I’m successful with two out of the three again, cursing under my breath when the last one clips the front of the target and comes to a stop just short.

“Better,” Amelia says, and the praise makes my body heat.

I want to be the best I can for her.

The third round is where I shine. My eyes lock on each puck from the second I touch it until it lands in its designated spot. I go six for six, hitting every single one, and I hold my stick above my head in celebration.

“Fuck yeah,” I say. “That felt good.”

“It’s fun to watch you respond to critique. You don’t question it; you fix the problem and move on.”

“Why would I question someone who knows what they’re talking about?” I use the hem of my shirt to wipe my forehead. “I can admit when what I’m doing isn’t working and I need to adjust it.”

“That’s why your ceiling is so high. Because you’re willing to not be right all the time.” Amelia glances at me. “Stick handling is next, right?”

I tuck her compliment close and say, “And backward skating, which is my weakness.”

“I’m surprised they’re not making you jump through a hoop of fire,” she says.

“Right? They should blindfold us too.”

“Shit.” Her laugh echoes around us, and, hell. It really is my favorite sound. “I’m proposing that to the Player’s Association for next year.”

“Evil.” I smile and knock all the pucks out of the way except for one. “Will you watch and see what I can work on?”

“Of course. Remember to keep your eyes on the puck again. You won’t have any defenders to track. The goal is proficiency.”

I start the drill and keep the puck close to my stick as I move around invisible barriers. I zig-zag back and forth until I reach center ice, turning a sharp corner and switching to skating backward.

“Eyes up now,” Amelia says from beside me. “Look over your shoulder so you keep your balance and don’t get too far over your toes.”

I adjust, staying upright without losing possession of the puck. At the final blue line I spin, pushing to my right. I pair a spatula lift with a toe drag and knock the puck in the goal.

“Nice job.” Amelia holds up her phone. A stopwatch is displayed on her screen. “Thirty seconds.”

“Thirty seconds?” I groan. “I need to be faster than that.”

“Work on your transitions between stations when you run it again. Anticipate it and react sooner.” She resets her phone. “I know you’re focusing on control, but you’re a great skater, Grant. Don’t be afraid to push the speed.”

“Another round,” I say, already making my way to the opposite end of the ice. “I’m going for twenty-eight seconds this time.”