“I don’t doubt you. I actually need you to,” I stress, pointing at the screen with my pen. “If we get some traffic here, really pressure him, he’ll have no chance to stop anything. He is weakest right glove. But I do find that five-hole can catch him off guard too. He’s fast, so you have to take every opportunity you can.” I point at Boon with my pen. “We won’t be running an S-formation for this game. People are catching on, and if I know anything about their special teams, they’ve done their research. I want a true 1-3-1. I want you here,” I say, tapping the screen, right in front of Merryweather. “I want you in his way. If he moves, you move, and you fight that defense. Mac, Brooks, I want you on the outside. Pass the puck until the third pass, and then that person shoots. Bring the pressure, bring the intensity, and bring me a goal.”
The boys tap their sticks to the ice, and my gaze meets Boon’s. His eyes lock with mine, and my body vibrates with need. Jesus, he is so sexy. So big on his skates, thick with his gear on, and hell, even without it. He quirks his lips and then winks at me, making it really hard to breathe. When he moves his gaze away, just for a second before bringing it back to mine, he puckers his lips at me. Then he skates away to get ready for the next play we’re going to run. It was a simple little gesture, but it drives me wild.
I hate that we are hiding us. I almost wonder if it’s a bad idea. I know my dad isn’t handling Shelli getting married well, but I’m tired of hiding what I’m feeling for this amazing man. But I guess I’m unsure if my parents will approve, and I think that’s what’s holding me back. This isn’t like Shelli and Aiden. They’ve known each other their whole lives. Dad had a hard time accepting it, but he did.
I don’t know if Boon will get the same treatment, and that terrifies me. Shelli had hidden her relationship with Aiden for a really long time before they were finally found out. I don’t want my parents to discover us; I want to come to them and introduce Boon as my boyfriend. I don’t know when the right opportunity will present itself. I want to believe that after Shelli’s wedding will be a good time. But then, why wait?
Our careers.
Boon is right; we don’t want to bring attention to the fact that we’re together and I’m coaching him. I don’t want the guys to think I favor him, because I don’t. I take pride in the fact that when we’re on the ice, it’s professional. I may lust over him and there may be some flirting, but he doesn’t get different treatment. He gets Coach Adler, and I don’t play. I also don’t want something to happen and we break up, and then my mom thinks she has to fix it for me. She’s a fixer, and I love her for it, but I don’t want any help with this. If Boon and I are meant to be, then we’ll be good. If not, then I’ll deal with it when that time comes. But nothing will keep me from enjoying every single moment I have with him.
I really wish he’d tell me if he loves me or not. We haven’t spoken of that moment when I asked, and it’s killing me. Maybe I should ask again. Or maybe I should just grow the balls and say it myself. I’m so confident in us, I believe in us, I love us—yet I won’t tell him that. I hate how scared I am of the rejection. I don’t want to be that person who’s scared, but I am. It’s easy to believe in us. But to believe in myself? I struggle. I want to be enough to love, and while he hasn’t given me a reason to think I’m not, I can’t kick the fear that I might not be.
I watch as Boon’s line works their asses off. They are passing and shooting just how I want, and Boon, he’s standing right where I want him. I urge them to make the passes faster, and they pick up the speed. When Aiden shoots, the rebound bounces right in front of Boon, and when he backhands it in, five-hole, I throw up my hands. “Yes!”
The guys all high-five, and I skate toward them, grinning from ear to ear. I smack my hand into Boon’s chest, super excited, rubbing his chest. “Yes! Just like that.”
His eyes widen in surprise, and I realize what I just did. I feel everyone’s gaze on me, so I quickly turn to Mac, smacking him in the chest, doing the same rub. “Great passing.”