Bennett (On the Line 2)

I said a silent thank-you to Charlotte for that. She must not still be too pissed at me if she hadn’t made me out to be a jackass.

“And you don’t want that?” I asked.

“Fuck no.” Liam glowered at me. “Any guy who’d screw my sister the first time he met her and not call after that is a douchebag who deserves pain. And to not even use a fuckin’ rubber? I’m gonna end him, Bennett.”

I sighed deeply. Liam was going to lose his shit when he found out I was the douchebag. It would affect our friendship and maybe even our ability to play together.

“I’m hitting the shower,” I said, rubbing my forehead.

I stood under the steaming spray of water for a while, hoping it would wash away some of my tension. No luck, though. By the time I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist, the locker room was mostly empty.

“Hey, Morse.”

I turned at the sound of my last name and saw Orion looking at me from the door of his office.

“Come on in when you’re dressed,” he said.

I nodded, wondering what the hell I’d done to warrant a call into his office. I kept my nose clean and played well. But still, he was a fairly new coach and we were under new ownership. I didn’t feel as secure as I had before.

After I’d dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, I pushed open the door of Orion’s office and knocked on the doorframe.

“You wanted to see me, Coach?”

“Yeah. Come on in and close the door.”

Shit. That couldn’t be good. I closed the door and sat down in a chair in front of his desk.

“How are things going, Bennett?”

He was in his early thirties, not much older than I was. He’d retired from the NHL after donating a kidney to his nephew. From what I’d seen of his coaching style so far, he was tough, but fair.

“Pretty good, I think. The first line always pulls our weight.”

He nodded. “And then some. I’m not talking about your play, though. I’m asking about your life outside of

this place.”

“Oh, yeah . . . it’s good.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly and just stared at me for a few seconds.

“You seem to have something on your mind lately,” he finally said.

I shifted in my chair. “Does my game seem off?”

“This isn’t about hockey, Bennett. Your game’s as solid as ever. Stop looking so damned nervous.”

“Everything’s fine with my personal life, Coach.”

“Don’t bullshit me. You don’t go out after road games anymore, and you always look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”

I sighed deeply and bowed my head, elbows resting on my spread knees.

“I’ve had something come up,” I admitted. “And yeah, it has been on my mind.”

“Have you talked to anyone about it?”

My single note of laughter held no amusement. “Not exactly.”