Page 8 of So Pucking Perfect
I raised an eyebrow, settling into my chair. I’d learned not to rush these things. Hockey locker rooms were gossip mills, and if someone had something to say, they’d get there eventually. I already had a feeling this was about Rowan. The conversation we’d been skirting around the past two weeks was going to happen.
“Look,” Evan said, his tone shifting from playful to something more careful, “we just want to know if there’s something we should know. About you and your history with a certain mascot. I need to know if I have to worry about Rowan.”
The way he stared at me told me he knew exactly what he was talking about. He hadn’t just read the room, he’d probably heard the whole sordid tale from Rowan himself. The question was, did he get the truth or what had Rowan told him? My jaw tightened, but I kept my expression neutral.
Mario watched me, waiting to see if I was going to blow up. I didn’t blame him. Most alphas probably would.
“What I had before is the past,” I said carefully, each word measured. “What happens in this locker room, on this team, is about now. And it’s about winning. I’m not going to concern myself with the goings-on of the team mascot. Rowan is not my business.”
“That’s the thing, though,” Evan said, and there was something almost respectful in his voice now, like he understood he wascrossing a line but needed to anyway. “We heard you and Ro—” He stopped, catching Derek’s sharp look. “We heard there might be some history. And we’re just making sure it’s not going to be a problem. For the team. And for Rowan. He’s a good mascot, and a great asset. I know it’s unconventional, but he really is a friend to all of us, and we care about him.”
The loyalty in that question, even wrapped up in curiosity, made something in my chest ease slightly. These guys cared about their team more than they cared about drama. That was good. That was exactly what I needed.
“There’s no problem,” I said, and I meant it. “Not professionally. Not in ways that matter for how I coach any of you.”
Evan nodded slowly, like he was parsing whether I was telling the truth. Smart kid.
“Good,” Mario said, pushing off from where he’d been leaning. “Because we need to be focusing on building this team. We’ve got a real chance to go far this year and in the future. It’s time to put in the work.”
“That’s exactly what’s going to happen,” I said.
Evan slid off my desk, apparently satisfied. “Cool. I just wanted to make sure. You know how it is, everyone’s always looking for drama where there doesn’t need to be any.”
“Everyone except you,” Mario said dryly.
Evan grinned. “Especially not me. I prefer facts.” He headed for the door, then paused. “See you tomorrow, Coach.”
Once he was gone, Mario lingered for a moment, his expression thoughtful.
“You good?” he asked quietly.
I leaned back in my chair and nodded. “I’m good.”
He believed me, or at least pretended to. Either way, he clapped me on the shoulder and left me alone in my office.
Alone with the knowledge that apparently some team members already knew something about me and Rowan, and with the much more pressing question of whether I could actually pull off what I’d just promised—keep it professional when my past was about to skate onto my team.
Chapter 6
Rowan
The midday games were always the best. It was when the crowd was electrified and the young kids came out to the game to watch their heroes. It was these games where the dreams of making it to the big leagues were made. Kids could see themselves out there on the ice and dream of the day when they could join the League of Ice Kings.
It might just be the pre-season, but it seemed like everyone had come out to show support for the team or to check out our new coach. He hadn’t made any elaborate changes in the few weeks that he had been with the program, just enough that he wasmaking his mark. I still had a job, and according to Even, Coach was a great guy. I steered clear of him.
There were so many kids standing at the glass, pounding on it as I skated around. The announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, going on about who I was and why I was there.
“Ladies and gentlemen, alphas and omegas, Port City Badgers’ own Benny the Badger is here with a special surprise for you all!” Les, the announcer’s, voice echoed in the open air.
For anyone who had attended games in the past, the surprise really wasn’t much of a surprise at all. In a little bit, they would have me do a few tricks on the ice. It was something that would get the kids all excited. Thanks to some of the training I’d done in the off season, I had a few new tricks up my sleeve from last year. I’d spent quite a bit of time training with a professional figure skater. Now I could do a few different jumps and twists.
I loved these moments when my blades slid across the ice and the crowd roared. I may not have been a player, but I was part of the organization. People enjoyed the entertainment I provided, even though they had no idea who I was under the mask. I was here, and they were chanting my name. Well… my character’s name. That was all I really wanted, to be a part of something. To belong.
Now I had it.
I hoped like hell it wasn’t taken away from me.
The announcer went on about how the crowd could get more involved in the game and how they could get themselves on the Jumbotron and letting them know they needed to keep an eye out for me, because after I was done on the ice, I would have to go to the stands. That was honestly one of my favorite parts of the night, when I got to walk through the stands and up on the concourse, taking pictures with the kids. Sometimes I wondered how many pictures of me were framed in people’s houses or shared on their social media. More than I could count. At least with the mascot outfit, I knew I never took a bad picture.
