Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)

His eyes widen, but before he can say anything back, another whistle blows, and I tear my gaze from his to my uncle.

“That’s enough for today. Hit the shower, boys.”

I go to fight Jakob on that; we are nowhere near done. They didn’t even complete the play, but his look stops me. I glance up at Boon. He’s sucking in air and his gaze is wild. I see the fight in his eyes. He wants this, and it makes me happy. At least I know he won’t give up, even if I think he isn’t made for the power play. I also see a whole lot of naughtiness in his eyes, but I must be imagining it. Surely, after this, he can’t even stand to look at me.

Though, he doesn’t look away.

“Adler.”

I tear my gaze from Boon’s and skate toward my uncle on the other side of the rink. “We weren’t done.”

He nods. “We are. Frustration is high, and you’re beating a dead horse.”

“I wouldn’t have to beat a dead horse if they’d execute.”

“Exactly, but it’s not clicking. It will. We had success—”

“It’s not clicking because of Hoenes. I want him off the power play.”

He shakes his head. “He’s a good passer and reads the defense well.”

I make a face. “I’m sorry, are we talking about Boon Hoenes? Or someone else? I’m confused.”

Jakob gives me a dry look. “Seriously, he does.”

“When? I haven’t seen that. Ever.”

“I do. He isn’t doing it to your standards, but it’s there. He’s a great player.”

“I agree, 5-on-5, he is crucial and an asset. But for the power play, he doesn’t think. I need a player who will think out of the box to try to make something happen. He’s running on luck, and we are lacking precision and accuracy. We are just playing with the puck, not being aggressive and trying to score. It’s a confidence thing, not a skill. He has the confidence all day for 5-on-5, but on the power play, he’s already defeated.”

He nods. “So then, why would you single him out and beat him down?”

I press my lips together as he gazes down at me. Shit, I did do that.

“This is where age is against you. You expect perfection, and no one is perfect, Posey. These boys are on special teams because not only are they talented and skillful, they’re passionate. They want it. I think you need to scale back on Hoenes. It’s almost as if you have a vendetta against him. He’s a good dude. Do you not like him?”

“I don’t care about him one way or another. I just want him to perform to my expectations,” I say back. While I’m sort of lying, I’m also not. I want the performance, hands down, but I do feel something. Maybe that’s why I am so hard on him. “I stand by my feelings that he isn’t cut out for it.”

Jakob just looks at me. “Well, your feelings are wrong. Because if he wasn’t made for it, why is he over there with a puck, passing to Brooks and Mac right now?”

I glance over my shoulder to see exactly what Jakob described. Each pass is strong and with purpose. Exactly what I wanted. So then, why does he crumble under pressure? It makes absolutely no sense. But 5-on-5, that’s the man I see. Power play, not even kind of a little bit. I lick my lips before looking back at Jakob. “Okay.”

“Okay. Remember, Posey, this was an optional skate for the guys. But our special teams were the first on the ice. They want to win. Help them win.”

I sigh heavily and nod. “Will do.”

He skates off, and I turn to look back to where Aiden and Boon are, and I notice Wes is still there too. I skate over to them. “Y’all were told to hit the showers.”

Boon doesn’t even look at me. “I’m not done.”

“Fine.” I won’t argue with him on this. I am all for putting in the work. I set up to break the pass, and for the next twenty minutes, I work exclusively with Boon on his pass. He’s determined, and if I’m honest, it turns me the hell on. I show him what I want, and we discuss even though our words are sharp and to the point. His eyes, when they meet mine, give me butterflies, but I fight them to get what I want out of him. I’m able to break his pass every time, but I let him have a few. I feel like he knows when I do too; his eyes cut to mine, and he taps his stick to the ice a little harder.

When I see he is getting tired, I hold the puck. “That’s enough for today. We can work some more tomorrow.”

They all nod, and Mac is the first to head off the ice. When Aiden starts to gather the pucks, I call to him, “Don’t worry about that. I’ll do it. Head to the showers. Hoenes, I’d like to speak to you.”