Page 58 of Scoring Chance

Darrin walked in with two paramedics pushing a stretcher. “Time to go, Tony.”

They loaded him on and were moving out the door before he could say anything else to me. I’d given Derrek time to show me he had feelings for me, but it hadn’t happened. That was fine. We were meant to be friends. I needed to accept that and move on.

The rest of the basketball game went on without any more injuries. I turned off the Fury’s game when Tony came in, and I wanted to check the score but I didn’t want to know if Derrek had called or texted me. I didn't want to see an invitation to hang out. I didn't want to know if he already picked up dinner. I filled the tubs with ice for the guys that dared to take an ice bath and finished everything else Darrin asked me to do before heading home. I didn’t take out my phone.

I just wanted to go home, rinse this day off me, and find the strength to do what I knew I needed to.

19

Derrek

I checked my phone before tossing it back in my duffle. Nothing. Again.

It had been over two weeks since I’d seen Amelia, and besides a few vague texts, we hadn’t even spoken. My best option would be asking Nikolay about her, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to deal with the brute.

The night of the gala, I felt something. I knew she did too. But since then it’s like she’s avoiding me.

I knocked on Coach Abrams’ door and waited to be called in.

“Hey Derrek, take a seat.” He adjusted his glasses and waved at the empty chair across from him.

I fell into it and cringed at my sore muscles.

“Feeling it?” he asked with a cruel smile.

He knew I was. Since I was playing every game, he’d taken personal satisfaction in killing me every day. I used to crave the attention he poured on Olli during practices. Not anymore.

“You’ve been off.” His blunt statement threw me. That wasn’t what I was expecting him to say.

“What do you mean? We’ve only lost one game, and it was last week.”

His eyes held mine. “You’re slipping. I can see it, and you need to admit it.”

I rubbed my hand over my face. I swear this guy was never happy. He was almost as bad as Romney. “I’m tired, but we had four games last week. I have a chance to recover this week.”

“You’re distracted.”

I narrowed my eyes. As helpful as these meetings had been at the beginning, they were now grating. He wasn’t my therapist so why did he feel the need to dig?

“I’ll do better.” It was the only response I had. I wasn’t in the mood to have him push me into some emotional confession.

“Why can’t you just say it?”

He wasn’t angry, but I could see his impatience as he clenched the pen in his hand.

“I’m not sure what it is you’re looking for, Coach.”

He shook his head. “If you think I’m going to give up and let you leave, you’re mistaken. You should know better than that by now.”

“What do you want me to say?” I grumble.

“Tell me why I’m only getting eighty percent from you.”

I sighed and threw my head back. “That’s not true and you know it.”

He didn’t blink as he watched me, waiting.

“I’m working as hard as I can. My stats are better than ever. I was ranked the NHL’s top goalie last month. What more can I give?”