28. Lachlan

Chapter 28

Lachlan

S taring out over the deserted rink, my heart kicks up a notch. I don't know why I'm suddenly nervous, but I am. This is the second game where I'm in charge as the player-coach, but the first one was different. It was the Arrows. The rivalry was fierce, the adrenaline was pumping. Now, I just feel like everyone is going to be scrutinising my every move, and it scares the shit out of me.

"You'll be fine," Keir murmurs, coming to stand next to me.

"Says you."

"You will be. Just think of these friendlies as a way to gain experience, and by the time we get to the season, you'll be an old pro."

"Always know the right things to say, don't you, arsehole." I punch him on the shoulder with a grin, but the tension in my chest eases just a bit. Keir has always been good at that—steadying me when I feel like I'm about to keel over.

"Seriously though," he continues, rubbing his shoulder with a mock wince. "You've got this, Lachlan. You've been leading us on the ice for years. This is just an extension of that."

I nod, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, mate."

"Anytime," he says, giving me a reassuring pat on the back before heading towards the locker room.

As I watch him go, I think about Emma. The way her eyes light up when she talks about her plans for the team, the fierce determination in her voice when she's fighting to make her mark in this world. She's something else entirely, and I find myself falling harder for her every day. She hasn't given us her decision yet about moving in with us, but I think I respect her more for that. Instead of dropping her friend and everything to jump in with both feet, she's considering it, and I appreciate that.

I turn from the ice and make my way to the locker room, running through strategies in my head. I come up short when I see Emma waiting, dressed in a light summer dress that shows off her gorgeous curves.

"What's this?" I ask with a smile, going to her and giving her a kiss. Taran strolls in with Keir next to him, and I turn to look at them.

"This is…" she chews her lip. "I'm going to move in with you. When we have found the right place for us all, we can move in together then."

"Perfect," I murmur, pulling out my phone. "I have just the place. Want to see?"

She giggles. "Already?"

"Oh, he's been looking for days," Keir states, going to her and kissing her. "But you really should see this place. It's perfect."

She beams and turns her attention back to me as I show her the listing.

Emma takes my phone, her fingers brushing against mine, and I feel like the luckiest guy alive. We all crowd around, peering over her shoulder as she scrolls through the photos of the potential new place.

"Wow," she breathes, her eyes wide with excitement. "It's huge. And that kitchen... I could actually cook without feeling like I'm in a shoebox."

Keir chuckles, "You might have to fight me for kitchen space. I make a mean shepherd's pie."

Taran nudges him with a laugh, "Yeah, if by ‘mean' you mean aggressively average."

Emma snorts at that. "Honestly, guys, this looks perfect," she says softly. "I love it."

"Then let's do it," I say firmly. "No more waiting around. We'll call the agent tomorrow."

Emma's eyes sparkle as she hands back my phone. "Alright, Coach," she agrees with a playful salute. "I guess we're house hunting together now."

Keir leans in closer to her, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You sure about this, Emma? There's no rush if you're not ready."

She glances between us, taking a deep breath before nodding resolutely. "I'm sure," she says. "It feels right."

Taran wraps an arm around her waist from behind and kisses her cheek. "We've got you," he whispers.

At that moment, the locker room door swings open, and the rest of the team starts filing in, their chatter filling the space. Emma steps back and leaves the locker room as we prepare for our meeting on the ice. I'm letting her off the hook for our sexy rendezvous. She is too skittish about it, and that's fine.

For now.

One day, I will take her where everyone can see, and they will know what a lucky man I am to have her.

"Right, lads," I say, shoving my apprehension aside. "Let's do this shit, and beat those Elves."

"That sounds a bit violent to the poor old Elves," Taran murmurs, and I give him the finger. "You out. You don't join this team for another couple of weeks."

He holds his hands up with a laugh. "I'm going, I'm going. Good luck out there, guys. See you soon!"

To my surprise, everyone waves him off with good humour. I guess the rivalry can be put aside when it's not personal.

Gearing up, I give the team one last talk on strategy, and then we hit the ice for warm-ups.

The rink lights flood the ice, illuminating our path as we glide out. There's a familiar buzz in the air, the kind that gets under your skin and makes your heart race. I can feel the lads' energy around me—nervous, excited, ready to give it everything they've got.

Keir skates up to me and gives me a nod. "Let's show them what we've got, Coach," he grins, and I feel a surge of pride.

"Let's make those Elves regret ever agreeing to this friendly."

"Not how it works, but fuck yeah!" he says and skates off, laughing.

Minutes later, the puck drops, and we're off. The sound of skates slicing through ice fills my ears. The game is fast-paced, a blur of movement and strategy. We're playing hard but fair. The lads are working like a well-oiled machine, and I can see my influence in our play—more teamwork, more cohesion.

Jamie whacks the puck with precision, and it lands at my feet, and I don't hesitate. I shoot it straight into the goal. The crowd roars, and I can see Emma cheering like mad from the stands. My heart swells with adrenaline and pride as the lads swarm me in celebration.

We barely have time to catch our breath before the puck drops again. The Elves come at us with renewed energy, but we're ready for them. Our defence is tight, pushing them back at every turn.

Between plays, I catch sight of Taran watching, seated next to Emma, his hawk-like gaze taking in all our plays, watching intently. He's evaluating us, and he's probably planning for when he joins in full force. He's already strategizing how to integrate his skills into our dynamic.

As halftime approaches, we lead by two goals. The team huddles around me as we head into the locker room, laughter and high-fives in abundance.

Emma intercepts us at the door, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You guys are killing it out there!" she says.

"All part of the plan," I reply with a wink.

She laughs and steps back as we file into the locker room. The tension is gone; there's only determination now. We know what needs doing.

Once everyone's settled and rehydrating, I stand up to give them a few pointers for the second half. "Keep up the pressure on their defence. We've got them on their heels. Stick to our game plan, and don't let up."

Keir nods, wiping sweat from his forehead. "And watch out for their number 22. Sneaky bastard nearly got me with a cross-check."

"Noted." I give him a firm pat on the back before turning to the rest. "And remember, lads, no stupid penalties. We can't afford to be down a man. Keir."

He snorts. "Well, if 22 would stop hounding me, I could maybe make that promise. He's a pain in my arse."

The locker room buzzes with laughter. As I finish my pep talk, we are back on the ice, the lads are fired up and ready to go. The second half starts with a bang—serious hits, fast passes, and relentless pressure from our side. The Elves fight back hard, but we're in control.

Midway through the period, Keir intercepts a pass and sends it hurtling towards Jamie. Jamie deftly manoeuvres past two defenders and sets me up perfectly in front of the net. Without hesitation, I smack the puck home for another goal.

The arena erupts in cheers as I'm mobbed by my teammates.

Emma and Taran give us a thumbs-up from the stands.

As the game progresses, it's clear we've got the upper hand. The Elves struggle to keep up, their movements sluggish compared to our lightning-fast plays. Keir's playing like a man possessed, blocking shots and delivering bone-crunching hits. Jamie's weaving through their defence like they're not even there.

With just a few minutes remaining, we've secured a comfortable lead. The lads are grinning ear to ear, their confidence infectious. Even in my euphoria, I'm careful to keep them grounded—nothing's over until it's truly over on the ice.

Finally, the final whistle blows, and the scoreboard lights up: Warriors 5, Elves 1.

The roar of the crowd is deafening as we skate towards each other, embracing in a triumphant huddle. Sweat-soaked and grinning like fools, there's no better feeling.

Emma is down by the rink side in an instant, clapping and cheering us on with Taran by her side, looking excited and edgy like he wants to grab the nearest pair of skates and join us. I'm glad. I'm glad we worked out our past shit, and I'm glad he is all in for this team.

We are a true unit now, and nothing makes me happier than drinking it all in and feeling proud of what we're doing.