4. Keir

Chapter 4

Keir

L achlan and I have barely said a word to each other in over an hour. We are just doom-scrolling and hoping someone says something first.

In the end, it's me. It's always me. He could seriously just sit there and not say a word for the rest of his life if he didn't want to.

"I think you should take the job. There are player-managers in every sport, and it's what you want to do afterwards, you know."

He slowly raises his gaze from his phone to glare at me. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

I snort. "No, but come on. You're made for it, and it helps Emma out by not having to find someone."

Lachlan narrows his eyes at me, the gears in his head clearly turning. "Yeah, but it's a big bloody step, Keir. Managing and playing? That's a lot of pressure."

"Pressure you can handle," I argue. "And let's not pretend you don't thrive on it. Plus, it's not like you haven't already been coaching us from the ice already. Colin relied on you."

He considers this. "But do you really think Emma would go for it?"

"Why wouldn't she? She needs someone she can trust, and you've already got the team's respect."

His expression softens at the mention of Emma. "Maybe," he finally says, setting his phone down. "I'll talk to her about it tomorrow. But if this goes tits up, I'm blaming you."

I chuckle. "Fair enough. But I don't think it will. The team respects you and look at how they responded to your leadership during training today."

He gulps. "I'd have to stand down as Captain."

"Why?"

"Looks shady as fuck."

"Why does it?" I frown at him.

"Because it does," he snaps. "Someone else will have to take over being Captain."

I blink at him and suck my cheeks in.

"What?" he asks, narrowing his eyes again.

"Nothing," I say innocently.

"Do not give me that bullshit. What are you thinking? That you'll do it?"

Slightly insulted by the incredulous tone from my best mate, I give him the middle finger. "Actually, no, not me, but thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Then who? Jamie?"

"Don't be a fool. He's twenty-one. Look, I can't say too much, right now… just come with me for my breakfast meeting with Keith tomorrow."

His eyebrows go up. His face is a myriad of expressions right now. "Keith? What's he got to do with anything?"

"Look, he messaged me a few minutes ago. He said he wanted to meet to discuss Colin leaving."

"Oh, yes," he drawls. "I forgot you're his golden boy."

"Oh, fuck off and just say you'll come. He might have something interesting to say. In fact, if I know Keith as well as I know I do, he will have something interesting to say about this."

He contemplates that for a moment. He knows I'm right. Keith is always ten steps ahead. He knew Colin was leaving. He had to. There is a bigger thing at play here, I just haven't figured it out yet.

Lachlan heaves a world-weary sigh. "Fine. I'll come with you. But if this turns out to be a wild goose chase, I'm holding you personally responsible."

I offer him a wry smile. "Wouldn't have it any other way. Now, let's call it a night. We've got an early start and I suspect Keith likes his coffee strong and his meetings even stronger."

Lachlan nods and heads to his room, muttering something under his breath about secret meetings. I chuckle to myself, feeling a bit lighter knowing there is a plan, even if I don't know what it is yet. Keith wouldn't do anything to jeopardise the team or his daughter. I have to have faith that this is a grand scheme that will get everyone what they want.

I shoot a quick message to Emma, but she doesn't reply, to my disappointment. I know she has taken today really hard, and it has knocked the wind out of her sails. I want to be there for her, but when I dial her number, it goes straight to voicemail. I don't bother leaving a message, so I get up and head to bed as well.

I drop my phone on the bedside cabinet and flop onto my bed. My mind is racing with thoughts of what Keith might have in store for us tomorrow. He's always been the kind of guy with plans within plans.

I roll over, trying to focus on sleep, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Emma.

Her fiery red hair, her determination, the way she lights up a room even when she's on the verge of tearing her own hair out. I want to help her, support her, but every time I'm around her, I turn into some bumbling idiot. It's like being back in school again.

Eventually, sleep claims me, and I drift off into a dreamless slumber, hoping that tomorrow isn't an ambush.