“Thank you all for coming in to this team meeting,” Dominik says as he glances around the room. “I know your time is precious, particularly on game days, so I promise not to take long.”
His gaze lands briefly on me, but there is no flicker of recognition.
Nothing on his face tells me he’s inappropriately interested in my sister. Certainly no leftover amusement I called him on the carpet about it or he threatened to trade me.
Right now, he is all business.
“As you all know, Tacker Hall has been on an indefinite suspension from the team.” He lets those words hang in the air, heavy and oppressive on us all. “I am, however, pleased to announce he will be returning to the ice as a team member next week. This will be for practices only until he can get his legs back underneath him and time for the fracture in his wrist to heal up.”
Dominik continues, “We anticipate Tacker will be able to return at game capacity within two full weeks.”
There is a low-level of chatter rippling through the room, a tone of joy within it. I don’t think there’s a single player on this team who didn’t want Tacker to return, despite the fact he is so closed off from the team.
“While I’m not going to share with you the details of the discussions we have had with Tacker, I will tell you that his return to the team is contingent on him not drinking any alcohol. This is obviously because he had an alcohol-related driving incident, and we do not tolerate that on this team. Tacker has some other conditions he has to satisfy to remain a member of our organization. If he chooses to share those details with you, that is fine. Suffice to say, we are incredibly happy he is returning and has agreed to abide by our demands for him to stay on this team. Thank you for coming in for this team meeting. Good luck tonight. I’m going to stay in Phoenix to watch you guys play, and I’m incredibly proud of every member of this team.”
Without another word, without a glance at his coaching staff, me, or any other player, Dominik turns from the podium and strides out of the meeting room. There’s a smattering of applause as he leaves.
Coach Perron steps up to the podium. He gives a slight cough, scanning his players to make sure we are all paying attention. His gruff voice automatically instills within us a need to listen carefully to what he says. “I want to talk a little bit about Tacker’s compliance to stay on this team. What Mr. Carlson did not tell you is if Tacker has so much as one drop of alcohol, he’s going to be released from the team immediately. No second chances. It is not something we take lightly. And while I cannot dictate your own behaviors, I would suggest you do your best not to let Tacker enter into any circumstances that might involve drinking. I’ve never known Tacker to be a big partier, but we can’t discount the fact he has abused alcohol.
“If I may be so bold as to suggest it, please consider moderating your behavior accordingly if you want him to be on this team. I know that is asking a lot of you. You men are young and in your prime, and there is a certain element of fun that comes along with your job. All I’m asking is for you to be considerate of Tacker’s demons. I ask this not only for his benefit, but also for this team’s. The reason Mr. Carlson, Mr. Rutherford, and I have worked so hard to get Tacker to stay with us is because we believe he will be instrumental in winning the Cup this year. So if you men can taste that victory, if you want to hoist that cup above your shoulders, I suggest you do whatever is necessary to keep this team whole, motivated, and driven. With that, I’ll see you all at the team skate in a few hours.”
Coach doesn’t stick around for questions. He and the coaching staff, along with Christian Rutherford, promptly leave the room.
The players all start exiting right behind them. Bishop and I stand from our chairs, and he looks at me pointedly. “You got any plans for the next few hours until the team skate?”
I was actually going to go home and see if I could talk Regan into a little tryst with me. Not that I would have to “talk” her into it. She is so fucking responsive to me. When I give her the barest of touches, she just melts for me. But fuck… all she has to do is look at me a certain way and I get hard. The chemistry between us is red hot, and it doesn’t need much to ignite.