Page 87 of Her Coach

I winced at the bark of his voice, but he was right. Dad never let the guys eat before a game, either. One time, when that happened, our current sniper took a nosedive on the ice because of some nausea, and he ended up vomiting so much that the game had to be forfeited just so the ice could be thawed out, drained, and replaced.

“Hey!” Coach exclaimed as he linked my arm with his. “I said, no fucking hot dogs! Jett!”

“What!?” I heard him call out.

“The fuck is in your mouth!?”

I craned my head over my shoulder just in time to see Jett swallow. “Just a hot dog bun!”

I barked with laughter as Colton bellowed. “Inside! Now! Time to warm up!”

I laughed all the way into the stadium. I couldn’t help it. This was probably the most entertaining group of characters I’d ever seen rally behind a hockey team. Maybe it was Colton and his influence. Maybe it was just the natural jive of things. Maybe I saw things through a different lens altogether, I wasn’t sure. But I knew one thing for certain.

I wanted this to be a regular pregame routine for us.

For me and Colton.

“Meetcha in the locker room, Coach,” Rhett said as he passed by, patting Colton on the shoulder.

“Yep, gotta go take a dump before I get dressed,” Jett said as he passed me on my right.

“Jettson,” Colton warned.

Jett turned around, walking backwards, and put his hands on his hips. “Colton.”

Coach pinned him with a look. “Locker room. Now.”

Jett tossed me a wink before he clapped Rhett on the back, and then the two of them took off. I listened as Rhett yelled at some of the guys on the ice, and I turned my attention to see that some of our offensivemen were already doing warm-up drills. I stole a peek up at Colton’s face and saw him clocking the guys. Bouncing his head. Already lost in his own little world. I loved Colton’s passion for hockey.

It damn near rivaled my father’s.

“Come on,” Colton said as he took my hand and tugged me down the hallway, “I need to grab things from my office before I gather them in the locker room.”

He sure as hell didn’t have to tell me twice, either. I’d spend any second with him. Every second he allowed. We could’ve been on a boat rocking in the middle of the ocean with me puking off the edge of the balcony, and I’d still want to be there with him. He released me when we got to his office. I snuck the door closed while he rummaged around, grumbling beneath his breath like a bear foraging for snacks.

I couldn’t help but just… watch him.

I watched the way his muscles flexed beneath his clothes. The way he always kept his shirt sleeves rolled up, showcasing the power and corded muscles of his forearms. His gruff hands, rough with calluses, made me shiver as I studied them from afar. His legs, beefy and brawny, pulsing with every movement he took.

I’d never seen a more beautiful man in my life.

“Like what you see?” Colton asked coyly.

I slid my eyes back up to his face. “Something like that.”

He grinned as he zipped up his windbreaker, and it gave me pause.

“No suits?” I asked.

He chuckled as he moved toward me, caging me against the wall my back was pressed against. “Gotta earn those suits.”

“Ah.”

Both of his hands pressed into the wall above my head before he leaned in a bit, his stoic brown eyes hooked with mine. “You look amazing in our jersey.”

I blushed a bit at his words. “It’s not too much?”

His hips pinned me to the wall. “You could never be too much.”