Clipped by Love
Page 40
“Okay, boys, as Coach Moss said, I know my hockey,” Coach Moore says, his voice booming and filling the rink. “I don’t fuck around. I win,” he says, letting that sink in and all of us start to nod. “I have studied all of your files. I know you by name; I know your game. I’ve watched tapes, and I can promise you, I know you. I’m ready to watch what you can do in front of my face, but more than that, I’m ready to see you impress me, like I know all of you want to do.”
Nodding, I meet his gaze and he grins.
Clearing his throat, he says, “But first, we need to address the elephant in the room.”
Elephant? What’s he talking about?
Then the dude who was standing by the boards is skating toward him and stops beside him, still not looking up.
“Is that his kid, you think?” Frayer whispers to me, but I shake my head.
“I have no clue.”
Leaning against his stick, Coach Moore doesn’t even look at the guy beside him as he looks at all of us. He then says, “My daughter has played since she was old enough to skate. She did that before she walked, by the way.”
“Oh fuck,” is all I can say.
“What?” Jace whispers as Frayer looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
But I can’t move.
“She has won more medals and cups than I know I have, and than most of you, since I’ve had a look at all of your files. The only person in this room who has more hardware than she does is Jayden Sinclair.”
My teammates all reach over, tapping me, but my eyes are trained on the person standing by coach.
Coach nods his head at me as he continues. “I know you are going for captain, eh?”
Oh, fuck me.
Clearing my throat, I nod, trying to find my voice. Finally, I say, “Yes, sir.”
“So is she,” he says, cocking his head to the person beside him.
The room falls silent, confused, but not me. I know exactly who that is, but still when she looks up, my jaw goes slack. She sucks in a deep breath, her shoulders moving with each inhale as she looks everywhere but at me. She then pulls her cage up before taking her helmet completely off and shaking her hair out, the long, blondish brown strands falling along her shoulders. Her lips are painted the bright red I’ve been dreaming about for months, and when her eyes settle on mine, I can’t breathe.
She’s here.
Baylor Moore is here.
But hold the fucking phone… She wants to be the captain of my team?
Jace is sputtering beside me. Frayer is gaping, along with most of the rest of the team, and all I can do is hold her gaze. She wants my team? Cold day in fucking hell. I’ve worked my ass off to get this team if Jude went into the draft and I didn’t. I hate the politics of getting everyone to respect you, but I did it. I worked hard alongside Jude to gain the respect I have from these dudes, and I refuse to allow all that hard work to be lost to her.
She may be hot, and she may be the only thing on my mind besides hockey, but she’s not getting my team.
“This is my daughter, Baylor Moore. When I told you she has more hardware than most of you, I know you are probably thinking that it’s in the women’s league, but it’s not. She’s played on male teams since she was fourteen,” Coach continues, and that’s when she looks away, sucking in a breath before she looks out past the group of guys that is now her team. But I keep watching her.
She is still as stunning as I remember, even though it was only two months ago. Hard to forget someone like her, and seeing her again has me in knots. Not only because she is gorgeous but because she thinks and assumes that she can come in here and take my team. The shitty thing is I know she can—she’s talented enough—but over my dead body. As much as I want to enjoy her rosy cheeks from the bite of cold from the ice, the glossed-up red on her lips, and the way she stands there like she owns the room, I know I can’t. But I do. I’ve been imagining her in full gear in front of me since the moment she laced up her skates. And seeing her now, I know my feeble imagination did her no justice.
She’s magnificent.
I remember when she told me she was born to play, and she wasn’t lying. She looks the part, perfectly. Her skates give her an extra few inches. Her shoulders are thick from her pads, along with her legs. She looks like someone who could mow you over with no problem, and when I remember how she tried to do it to me, I’m fighting back a grin. I don’t know about my teammates, but if I didn’t know her, have the taste of her lips still teasing mine, and also being a badass like I am, I’d be scared of her.
But I’m not, and she isn’t getting my team.
“I have trained her to be the best, like I was the best. I also don’t let up on her. I don’t baby her. Make special rules for her,” Coach says, looking out at all of us. “I’m not dumb. I know the statistics for college rape and all that shit. And some may say that I am insane for pushing my daughter into a men-only league, but she can hold her own. She doesn’t back down. You cannot and will not bring her down. Believe me. Many have tried. None have succeeded.”
Slowly she looks back at me, and something about her eyes tells me that what her father just said is not one hundred percent true. Someone got to her and it may have been me, but before I can even think that through, Coach is demanding my attention again.
“This goes for any of you, not just her, but if you touch her or bully her in any way, you’ll have a one-way ticket off my team. I don’t do bullies. I know this is an egotistical sport. We all think we are better than each other, and that’s fine, but keep it to yourself. Pick each other up, work to make each other better, because we are only as strong as our weakest player. We are a family. Treat each other with respect on and off my ice,” he says before he skates up a bit.
I want to stand, tell him he has nothing to worry about because if anyone disrespects Baylor, I’ll kill them. But then it’s obvious by the way she is looking at me that we are not supposed to know each other. It may have only been one day with her, but that was enough to learn her mannerisms and hold them tightly in my mind. And I haven’t tried to let go.
I can’t.
Coach then goes down on one knee, looking at all of us before he continues. “The thing is, boys, you are my employees when you hit my ice. You come to work, you come to perform, and you come to fucking win. My payment to you is that I will train you, mold you, and make you more than the best fucking player you can be. I will push you, I will make you cry, and more than likely, you’ll puke. A lot. Lord knows, she’s puked a billion times under my training.”
Nodding, I meet his gaze and he grins.
Clearing his throat, he says, “But first, we need to address the elephant in the room.”
Elephant? What’s he talking about?
Then the dude who was standing by the boards is skating toward him and stops beside him, still not looking up.
“Is that his kid, you think?” Frayer whispers to me, but I shake my head.
“I have no clue.”
Leaning against his stick, Coach Moore doesn’t even look at the guy beside him as he looks at all of us. He then says, “My daughter has played since she was old enough to skate. She did that before she walked, by the way.”
“Oh fuck,” is all I can say.
“What?” Jace whispers as Frayer looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
But I can’t move.
“She has won more medals and cups than I know I have, and than most of you, since I’ve had a look at all of your files. The only person in this room who has more hardware than she does is Jayden Sinclair.”
My teammates all reach over, tapping me, but my eyes are trained on the person standing by coach.
Coach nods his head at me as he continues. “I know you are going for captain, eh?”
Oh, fuck me.
Clearing my throat, I nod, trying to find my voice. Finally, I say, “Yes, sir.”
“So is she,” he says, cocking his head to the person beside him.
The room falls silent, confused, but not me. I know exactly who that is, but still when she looks up, my jaw goes slack. She sucks in a deep breath, her shoulders moving with each inhale as she looks everywhere but at me. She then pulls her cage up before taking her helmet completely off and shaking her hair out, the long, blondish brown strands falling along her shoulders. Her lips are painted the bright red I’ve been dreaming about for months, and when her eyes settle on mine, I can’t breathe.
She’s here.
Baylor Moore is here.
But hold the fucking phone… She wants to be the captain of my team?
Jace is sputtering beside me. Frayer is gaping, along with most of the rest of the team, and all I can do is hold her gaze. She wants my team? Cold day in fucking hell. I’ve worked my ass off to get this team if Jude went into the draft and I didn’t. I hate the politics of getting everyone to respect you, but I did it. I worked hard alongside Jude to gain the respect I have from these dudes, and I refuse to allow all that hard work to be lost to her.
She may be hot, and she may be the only thing on my mind besides hockey, but she’s not getting my team.
“This is my daughter, Baylor Moore. When I told you she has more hardware than most of you, I know you are probably thinking that it’s in the women’s league, but it’s not. She’s played on male teams since she was fourteen,” Coach continues, and that’s when she looks away, sucking in a breath before she looks out past the group of guys that is now her team. But I keep watching her.
She is still as stunning as I remember, even though it was only two months ago. Hard to forget someone like her, and seeing her again has me in knots. Not only because she is gorgeous but because she thinks and assumes that she can come in here and take my team. The shitty thing is I know she can—she’s talented enough—but over my dead body. As much as I want to enjoy her rosy cheeks from the bite of cold from the ice, the glossed-up red on her lips, and the way she stands there like she owns the room, I know I can’t. But I do. I’ve been imagining her in full gear in front of me since the moment she laced up her skates. And seeing her now, I know my feeble imagination did her no justice.
She’s magnificent.
I remember when she told me she was born to play, and she wasn’t lying. She looks the part, perfectly. Her skates give her an extra few inches. Her shoulders are thick from her pads, along with her legs. She looks like someone who could mow you over with no problem, and when I remember how she tried to do it to me, I’m fighting back a grin. I don’t know about my teammates, but if I didn’t know her, have the taste of her lips still teasing mine, and also being a badass like I am, I’d be scared of her.
But I’m not, and she isn’t getting my team.
“I have trained her to be the best, like I was the best. I also don’t let up on her. I don’t baby her. Make special rules for her,” Coach says, looking out at all of us. “I’m not dumb. I know the statistics for college rape and all that shit. And some may say that I am insane for pushing my daughter into a men-only league, but she can hold her own. She doesn’t back down. You cannot and will not bring her down. Believe me. Many have tried. None have succeeded.”
Slowly she looks back at me, and something about her eyes tells me that what her father just said is not one hundred percent true. Someone got to her and it may have been me, but before I can even think that through, Coach is demanding my attention again.
“This goes for any of you, not just her, but if you touch her or bully her in any way, you’ll have a one-way ticket off my team. I don’t do bullies. I know this is an egotistical sport. We all think we are better than each other, and that’s fine, but keep it to yourself. Pick each other up, work to make each other better, because we are only as strong as our weakest player. We are a family. Treat each other with respect on and off my ice,” he says before he skates up a bit.
I want to stand, tell him he has nothing to worry about because if anyone disrespects Baylor, I’ll kill them. But then it’s obvious by the way she is looking at me that we are not supposed to know each other. It may have only been one day with her, but that was enough to learn her mannerisms and hold them tightly in my mind. And I haven’t tried to let go.
I can’t.
Coach then goes down on one knee, looking at all of us before he continues. “The thing is, boys, you are my employees when you hit my ice. You come to work, you come to perform, and you come to fucking win. My payment to you is that I will train you, mold you, and make you more than the best fucking player you can be. I will push you, I will make you cry, and more than likely, you’ll puke. A lot. Lord knows, she’s puked a billion times under my training.”
