Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Willa

I never quite understood the phenomenon but I swear the ice smells fresher and crisper just after the Zamboni finishes its job. The chatter of excited children and parents surrounds us, and rather than my normal dread over screwing things up, I'm enjoying the anticipation of today's game. Obviously, that has everything to do with King helping me out and nothing to do with my increasing knowledge and skills.

Today, our fierce Ice Pups will face off against tiny rivals, the Little Lightning, and I'd like to meet whoever came up with these names because they're freaking adorable.

I've learned to have my skates on in case I have to hit the ice for a downed player or a potential meltdown. It's far safer than me trying to waddle across on tennis shoes. While I'm waiting for all the kids to arrive—most sitting on benches as parents lace up skates—I step out onto the ice for a few turns on the smooth sheet. My heart thrums as I glide across the glassy surface, feeling the edge of my skates dig in and leaving behind a trail to show my journey.

Eventually, each player wobbles out onto the ice and I warm up with them, enjoying the swoosh and scrape of their tiny skates. I run a few fun warm-up drills King taught them and in between, I scan the crowd for the man who makes my heart want to skip out of my chest.

And there he is, walking toward us with his tall frame and easy smile. He's been away for two days on a road trip to Chicago and Dallas, making his return feel like a ray of sunshine after a cloudy day. His presence alone calms my nerves and if that isn't proof that King is a different sort of man, I don't know what is. I thought my past had so clouded my judgment with dating that I'd be looking for all kinds of faults and warning flags to raise their ugly heads. Instead, his steady confidence, genuine spirit and willingness to communicate openly to dispel my fears has slowly built a trust that I'm not sure I've ever felt with another person outside of Brittany. It boggles me how fast this has happened.

King's sporting a Pittsburgh Titans jacket over a simple gray hoodie, jeans and a backward cap, and I love his youthful, laid-back style. It doesn't even make me think he's too young—only that he's too hot. Meanwhile, I'm wearing my go-to Saturday outfit—comfy jeans and my favorite Ice Pups hoodie with my hair up in a ponytail.

I skate to the edge of the boards to greet him.

"Hey there, Coach Willa," King murmurs, engulfing me in a warm hug. His embrace is strong and reassuring, just as I expected it would be.

And damn… he smells so good.

"Hey yourself, Coach King," I reply with a grin, muffled against his chest. We pull back slightly, and he plants a lingering kiss on my lips. For a moment, it feels like we're in our own little world… until Brittany's voice breaks through.

"Get a room you two!" she exclaims playfully, making us both laugh. She stands a few feet away, holding Izzy's tiny hand. The little girl bounces with excitement, bundled up in her Ice Pups jersey.

I let out a chuckle. "You're just jealous," I tease my sister.

"You bet I am," she replies with a good-natured grin.

King breaks away to step out onto the ice, his confidence in walking on it far greater than mine. I stay at the boards as he rounds up the kids who are currently skating in chaotic circles. Among them, I easily spot Theo McVey with his bright green helmet, flashing a wide, toothy grin as he skates effortlessly. His father is in the stands, a booming voice that carries over the din of excited chatter. He shouts out instructions to his son and I turn to look at him with unease.

"Stick down, Theo! Keep your eyes on the puck!" he bellows, his tone still friendly despite its volume. He's bundled in a puffy jacket and a red cap pulled low over his eyes.

King also turns to look at him and then exchanges a look with me. I know he's poised to shut the man down if necessary but right now, he's abiding by the rules.

The referee signals warm-ups are over and King calls all the kids to us. "Okay, team, let's huddle up!" The kids stumble and slide toward us, forming a disjointed circle.

King turns to me and sweeps his hands toward the kids. "Coach Willa has a few things to say."

I panic, completely blanking on the stuff we practiced and what we're supposed to focus on. I glare at King and he smirks.

Squaring my shoulders, I remind myself these are little kids and I surely can come up with some sort of inspirational speech. "All right, so, uh, remember what we practiced?" I begin, racking my brain for the few basic drills we attempted. "We're going to, um, focus on… passing the puck! Yes, passing the puck. To each other. Got it?"

King snorts and covers his face so I don't see him laughing. The kids nod, their faces a mix of confusion and excitement. I glance at Brittany in the stands, who gives me an encouraging thumbs-up. Taking a deep breath, I continue, "And, uh, don't forget to… skate toward the other team's goal. That's where we want to score."

"Coach Willa," one little boy pipes up, "which one is their goal again?"

I point to the net on the far side of the rink. "That one over there. Remember, the one with the red paint."

The referee blows the whistle to signal the start of the game. I pat the kids on their helmets. "Okay, go get 'em, team!"

As the kids skate off, King leans toward me. "Great job, Coach."

"Thanks for hanging me out to dry," I mutter.

"I'd never do that," he replies with a wink. "I had all the confidence in the world in you, but damn… you were so cute flubbing through that."

I roll my eyes and move over to the bench. King steps in and chooses the first set of kids to head out to play.

It's clear that both teams are filled with eager but inexperienced players. The Ice Pups zoom around with wild abandon while the Little Lightning team struggles to even stay upright on their skates. Some kids are skating in the wrong direction while others are tripping over their own sticks or simply chasing each other around instead of focusing on the game. It's the cutest damn thing and I can't see how taking on this project has been a bad thing at all.

I watch in a mix of horror and amusement as they try to execute King's instructions. Izzy manages to get hold of the puck but immediately trips over it, landing in a heap. Another player, Timmy, skates over and tries to help her up but ends up falling himself, their sticks clattering against the ice.

Meanwhile, Ella skates in circles near the center, completely oblivious to the game. She's singing a song to herself, her pigtails bouncing with each stride.

"Ella! Over here!" I call out, waving my arms. She looks up, grins and gives a big thumbs-up before resuming her skating routine.

The puck somehow finds its way to Max, who gets so excited that he starts skating toward the wrong goal. "Max! Other way!" I shout, trying to redirect him. He stops, looks around confusedly, and then spins in place, unsure of which direction to go.

As the period progresses, the kids' antics only become more endearing. There's a moment when the puck slides slowly past the opposing team's goal, and all the kids from both teams gather around it, staring down like it's a strange alien object.

"All right, team, let's tighten up our passing!" King calls out in an attempt to get them to concentrate. "Look at your target. Johnny, stay low! Great job with that pass, Carrie!"

The children eagerly listen to King's coaching, their eyes lighting up under his reassuring words. His positive energy envelops them, making them feel confident and enthusiastic about learning.

However, Theo's father is becoming increasingly agitated. "Come on, Theo! That's not the right way to do it!" His voice grows louder with each mistake his son makes, his frustration clear to all.

"Great effort, Theo! Keep trying!" I cheer from the sidelines, clapping in encouragement.

Suddenly, Theo's father's angry voice echoes across the rink. "Theo, what are you doing? Pay attention! You're embarrassing yourself!"

The other parents shift uncomfortably, stealing nervous glances at one another. King's head snaps up and a fierce determination burns in his eyes. Without a word, he strides off the ice and heads toward the stands. All eyes watch him in wary curiosity and I follow to either voice my support or calm King down. Not sure which at this point.

"Hey, that's enough," King says firmly as he approaches Isaac McVey from the side of the bleachers where he sits four rows up. His head tipped back to look at the man, he says, "I've told you before… these kids are here to have fun and learn. If you can't keep your comments positive, you need to leave."

Theo's father looks taken aback but his jaw locks tight, eyes flashing with anger.

"Do you understand me?" King asks, his tone brooking no argument.

Theo's mother quickly intervenes by placing a calming hand on her husband's arm. "It's okay, honey. Let's just enjoy the game," she says softly.

Theo's father mutters something under his breath but nods and sits down. King turns around and walks back onto the ice with ease, ready to continue coaching.

"Nice work, Coach King," I tell him as we return to the game.

"Thanks," he responds, but I still see anger simmering as he moves past me. He goes straight to Theo on the ice and I'm not sure what he says as he puts a hand on the kid's shoulders and murmurs to him, but the little boy nods with a solemn look. Then he smiles and skates off.

The game continues with more funny moments and cheers from the parents. The kids are having the time of their lives, and that's all that truly matters. As the final buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, the Ice Pups and Little Lightning gather for the traditional handshake line, their faces beaming with pride. They had a grand score of zero to zero.

King and I gather the kids for one last pep talk, and a sense of accomplishment washes over me. It's moments like these that remind me why I love coaching, even if it's hockey and not figure skating. It's a pure bonus having King by my side. His passion for the sport and dedication to the children touches me on a very deep level, but the way he looks at me does things too.

The parents in the stands erupt into thunderous cheers and applause as the kids step off the ice, their voices eliciting toothy grins from everyone. Theo's father watches from a distance, a mix of emotions crossing his face but mostly I see quiet anger. I'm guessing he did not like being called out by King, nor did he appreciate the reminder of the boundaries in place.

As the kids disperse to celebrate with their families, King approaches Theo's father once more. His posture is relaxed yet commanding, his voice gentle yet firm as he addresses the man.

"I understand that you may have some frustrations, but this is a space for encouragement and support," King says, his words carrying weight and a sense of authority. "Your son looks up to you more than you know."

"What do you know about it?" Theo's dad sneers. "You have kids of your own?"

King shakes his head. "No, but I had parents who encouraged and let me have fun. It made me want to please them and made me a better player. There's more than one way to get your kid to play to his potential."

Theo's father's eyes flicker with uncertainty as he studies King but then he exhales. "Maybe you're right," he concedes, his gaze sliding over to where Theo is laughing with his teammates. "I just want him to succeed, you know? To have opportunities I never did."

King nods in understanding, his expression softening with empathy. "I get that. But sometimes the pressure can be too much, and it might push him away instead of pulling him closer."

Mr. McVey scrubs a hand along his jaw. "Thanks for the advice," he says quietly. "I'll try to do better by him."

"Good man," King says, clapping him on the back.

Theo's father nods and makes his way over to where his son is standing, still chatting animatedly with his friends. As Theo catches sight of his father approaching, he tenses slightly, unsure of what to expect. But to his surprise—and mine—his father offers a small smile and reaches out a hand to ruffle his hair affectionately.

"Great game, son," Theo's father says gruffly, but with a hint of pride shining through. "I'm proud of you."

Theo blinks in astonishment, a smile slowly spreading across his face. The tension that had been coiled in his shoulders releases and he grins up at his dad.

When they walk off, I approach King and lace my fingers with his. "That was quite the speech. You seem to have reached him."

King shrugs, frowning. "The man said the right words just now but it's hard for a zebra to change his stripes. We'll see how he does at the next game. What do you want to do for the rest of the day?"

I blink in surprise. "You have the entire day off?"

"No, I have a light skate practice but was hoping you might want to watch and then we can do something together."

The swell of giddiness at spending the day with him, watching him practice, is another indication that this man is having a profound effect on me. "I'd love to come watch you practice," I say eagerly, already looking forward to seeing him in his element on the ice. "And afterward, we can do whatever you'd like. Maybe grab some dinner or go for a walk in the park?"

King's expression softens at my words, a warmth shining in his eyes. He squeezes my hand gently before letting go to head toward the rink, gesturing for me to follow him. "Dinner sounds great," he says with a smile.

?

I'm beyond excited to watch the Titans practice, which is held at a practice facility and not the arena as there's a concert scheduled there tonight. Although I've attended a game, the opportunity to witness King practice feels more intimate, like being given a VIP tour of his world.

Taking my seat in the stands, just two rows up from the ice, I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and intently watch the action. The practice begins with a series of drills, Coach West's booming voice echoing throughout the arena as he directs each player. "All right, let's run through the breakout drill! Defense, make those passes sharp!"

My eyes are drawn to King as he glides onto the ice. His movements are graceful yet powerful, leaving me breathless with every stride. He effortlessly commands the ice, making it seem like an extension of himself. I look at this strong, beautiful man who has the power to crack heads and the gentleness to make me come apart, and the dichotomy is as much a sexual turn-on as it is a sentiment to my heart.

With impressive speed and agility, King intercepts a pass and swiftly changes to offense, racing down the ice with determination. My heart pounds every time he touches the puck, silently urging him to do his best. When he does, it takes everything not to jump out of my seat to cheer for him, but I hold my excitement because the handful of other people watching the practice are very chill.

Someone approaches from my left and I note it's Kiera. She says hello to a few other people, none of whom I've met yet, and then plops into the seat next to me. "Hey, Willa."

"Hi," I exclaim brightly. I enjoyed talking with Kiera the other night at Mario's. We have a lot in common, especially since she's a nurse. I also enjoyed watching her interaction with Bain, Drake and Brienne. She fits in so seamlessly with the Titans family and I wonder if that's where I'm headed.

"First practice?" she asks.

I nod. "Spur of the moment. Do you come to a lot of these?"

Kiera shakes her head. "No. I'm only here because we're going grocery shopping together after and I happened to be in the area. Not many of the SOs watch practices."

"SOs?"

"Significant others. Wives, fiancées, girlfriends, non-romantic friends, but don't include puck bunnies."

Laughing, I ask, "What the hell is a puck bunny?"

"Women who make it their goal to sleep with professional hockey players. They throw themselves at these guys, dress provocatively, outright offer to sleep with them. Considered just a hookup, but not necessarily a one-night stand. They might be kept around for days or weeks until a player gets sick of them and moves on. They'll never be serious, long-term potential."

My jaw sags. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious, although truth be told, not many of our guys are into the puck bunnies that I can see. At least not past a one-night-stand type of thing."

"I have so much to learn," I murmur.

Kiera pats my knee. "Stick with me young grasshopper and I'll teach you things."

I snort and am compelled to say, "I'm by no means young. At least not comparatively."

Swiveling her head my way, she asks, "Comparatively to whom?"

I nod toward the ice. "Well, King for one. I'm eight years older than he is."

Kiera waves a dismissive hand. "That means nothing. Now if you were twenty years older, I'd be high-fiving you for your major cougar balls, but King's kind of an old soul anyway. I think you two are perfectly matched."

More of that anxiety I keep in a small well in my chest unfurls at her statement. "You think?"

"Yeah. You both look like moon-eyed teenagers around each other. I'd lay money down this is the real deal."

"Was it like that with you and Bain?" I ask.

Kiera barks out a laugh, her eyes cutting to me briefly before going back to the action on the ice. "God, no! We were just fuck buddies to start."

"You were a puck bunny?" I tease.

"Funny," she says dryly. "No. I was a mature, professional woman who liked sex—still do, for that matter—and Bain was my male counterpart. We agreed to a friends-with-benefits deal to start."

"And then that changed," I muse.

Kiera's voice softens and she turns to look at me. "Yeah… it changed because love takes no prisoners."

The bit of anxiety that had dissipated retightens. I'm not ready for love or to be its prisoner, although I highly suspect King would like to move that way. Before I can respond, a scraping sound has both of us turning to the ice to find King standing at the boards.

His eyes are bright and twinkling. "Hey there, enjoying the show?"

"Very much," I reply. "You look incredible out there."

He winks playfully. "I think you're biased."

I hold my thumb and forefinger up, slightly separated. "Maybe a little."

King's laugh is deep and rich. "I like your bias," he says before speeding off.

Kiera thumps her shoulder into mine. "You two are freaking adorable."

Yeah… we are.

But are we more?

As he races back to join his team, Kiera nudges me with her elbow. "He's something special, isn't he?"

I nod enthusiastically, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. "Yeah, he really is."

We watch as the team runs through a specific drill, a complex sequence of passes and shots that require perfect timing and coordination. It's like watching a well-oiled machine in action.

I find myself lost in thought about my blossoming relationship with King. He's not just a skilled hockey player; he's also kind, considerate and endlessly supportive. He's gone out of his way to be there for me, whether it's helping with the Ice Pups, putting my ex in his place or making me feel like the most special person in the world.

I've stopped denying the existence of my heart swelling with emotion. In such a short time, he's managed to break down so many of my defenses. I've been trying to keep things casual between us, afraid of getting hurt again, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. The way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel… it's unlike anything I've ever experienced before.

With each passing moment of practice, my resolve weakens. I no longer want to keep things casual with him. I want more. I want everything he has to offer and then some. The thought both exhilarates and terrifies me.

King skates by once again, catching my eye and sending a smile my way. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and I feel more certain than ever that I'm ready to take a chance on him and our budding relationship.