Page 98 of Cross Check

GE

I have some inside sources that tell me you’re being PROMOTED TO ASSOCIATE COACH?

AMELIA.

That’s fucking baller. Holy shit. Congratulations!

Text me when you get a chance. I want to hear all about it.

I rub my thumb over my bottom lip, grinning wildly.

I want to celebrate this moment with him too, and I hit Grant’s contact info and press my phone to my ear before I have a chance to second-guess what I’m doing.

“Amelia,” Grant says, answering on the first ring. “What a nice surprise.”

“Hi. I saw your text, and it’s been a hectic day. Figured it was probably easier to call, but if you’re busy, I can⁠—”

“I’m not busy at all.” There’s the rustle of sheets on his end of the line. The thump of a book closing. “Tell me everything.”

“I had a conversation with our head coach and the team’s CEO earlier this morning. Elliot, our associate coach, accepted a job with a PWHL team.” A laugh bubbles out of me. I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling. “They offered me his job.”

“Holy shit. Are you freaking out? What’s going through your mind? That is so fucking cool.”

“A lot of things, to be honest. Excited, yeah. This has been a dream of mine since I realized I wanted to make a career out of coaching. I love my role as an assistant coach, but I want more. I want to keep climbing to the top. I want to be a head coach one day, and this is a step in that direction.” I draw my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees. “But can I tell you a secret?”

“Amelia.” His soft laugh echoes through the phone. “You can tell me anything.”

“I’m scared,” I say, the truth slipping out without pause. “The pressure I’m facing just amplified, and now there’s a bull’s-eye on my back.”

“I hate to be the one to break this to you, but there’s always going to be a bull’s-eye on your back. You’re different from everyone else in the league, which makes you an easy target. But being scared is part of the process. You’re doing something you haven’t done before while millions of people watch. Some want you to succeed. An overwhelming majority want to see you fail. Whether it be because they hate your team. Because they’re jealous. Because you’re a woman.” A noise like a growl works its way up his throat. “Goddamn. That’s bullshit, isn’t it?”

“Another secret.” I take a deep breath. “I know I’m damn good at my job, but the tiniest part of me wonders if I can do this. If I’m as good as people are telling me or if I’m just lucky. In the right place at the right time.”

“Hang on. Are you cool with FaceTime?”

My hair is unwashed and in a messy bun. I wiped my makeup off an hour ago in the shower, but I want to see him. I want to know if he’s smiling, so I pull my phone away from my ear and tap the screen, waiting for the call to connect.

“Hi,” I say when Grant’s face fills the screen. Rumpled hair, dark green sheets pulled up to his chin. He has an arm resting behind his head, and he looks cozy in the best possible way. “Am I keeping you awake? It’s almost eleven there.”

“Not at all. And even if I was tired, I’d consider it payback for all my phone calls when I was in Vegas and you were trying to sleep.” Grant sits up. The sheet slides down his chest, pooling around his waist, and that’s when I realize he’s not wearing a shirt. Sharp muscles are now on full display, and he looks so different from even a few years ago; broader, filled out shoulders. The hint of a deeper voice. He’s not some college kid struggling to find his spot in the league. He’s a man, and I avert my gaze back to his face. “I need you to know something, Amelia. We’re friends, but I don’t have to lie to you. Which is why my secret of the day is so important.”

“I’m afraid to hear it.”

“Don’t be. You’re very good at your job. You’re talented. You know the sport, and you love the sport. People come and go all the time with this job, and if you’re being asked to stay, it’s because you’re doing everything right. And you should be proud of that.”

“I am proud,” I whisper. “I’ve worked hard. I’m as capable as the men in the league, and I deserve this. Just having some intrusive thoughts, you know?”

“I do know, but you don’t need to worry about that. If they wanted to hire someone else, they would’ve hired someone else. They chose you for a reason, and it’s because you are the best person to do that job.” Grant adjusts the angle of his phone, and now I see dark hair trailing down his chest to his athletic shorts. “Damn. I wish I could be there to celebrate you. We’re off this weekend. It would’ve been perfect.”

“You’d fly across the country to see me?”

“Why not? I celebrate my friends when they get recognized for their hard efforts in their careers. You’re no different.”

“I’m free tomorrow before our game then all day on Saturday. Not that I’m suggesting anything,” I rush to add. “Just, you know, if you found yourself in Denver, I’d be here. And there are a lot of hotels in the area.”

“Would that make you uncomfortable?” Grant’s voice shifts to quiet, curious. “I want to respect your boundaries.”

“You could never make me uncomfortable.” The admission feels like another secret. Something tender, something true. “I want to celebrate with you.”