Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

Riggs

"Oh, how does it feel to drop a game that was clearly ours?" I spit out, and I slam my blade into the defenseless puck. The sound ricochets through the space, and the puck hits the back of the net. "If the game was clearly ours, wouldn't we have fucking won, you fucking eejit?" Once more, I swing my stick, putting all my power into the swing, and the crack of blade to puck is music to my ears. "How do you feel about going to game seven, Coach?" I shoot again and somehow miss like the failure of a hockey player I am, so I shoot again. This one goes in. "Oh, I feel just so damn good. A jolly good time watching my boys slave away on the ice for nothing! When the fucking puck betrayed me and went in off my own man! I feel fucking dandy!"

I know it isn't healthy for me to have conversations with myself. Some would even say it makes me a wee bit crazy, but in my defense, this is how I unwind when I feel too overwhelmed. Since I don't like who I am right now—as a person, coach, or even a boyfriend to my baby girl—I decided taking my frustrations out on pucks would be better than a person or my pups. Thankfully, the crew of the arena knows to leave me be when I get like this. The lights are on, but I know how to shut them off, and I know the only door that is open is the side door that leads to the car park. I'm sure everyone has already gone home, but I can't yet. Clara is home, and I don't want her seeing me like this.

Before Clara, I was able to hide this part of myself, the part that beats up and belittles everything about me. My pups would just cuddle me through it, but Clara, she'll want to distract me or talk to me. I'm too embarrassed. I don't want her to be disgusted with me, not when I love how she looks at me like I hung the stars in her sky.

Fuck me, I don't know why we had to lose.

The game was ours. It was. The boys were dominating, but the Griffins' goalie was playing just as well as Alex. It was a battle of the goalies, and those are my favorite kinds of games. It was all a fluke. One of my boys, I can't even tell you who, went to send the puck out of the zone, but it bounced off Jacquez's skate. It was a pure accident, and it slipped by Alex's pad. Even when he tried to trap it in his legs, it still got in.

Fucking piece-of-shit puck.

I hated the disappointment on Alex's face. How he felt he let the team down, when, really, he's the only reason we're still in this fucking series. I let my head fall back, and I yell at the top of my lungs, "Fuck!"

My voice echoes through the arena, and it doesn't make me feel better. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nose before pushing my breath out in frustration. We have one more chance to keep this alive. I hope I was able to convince my boys that we can win this, but the defeat on their faces will haunt me tonight. When I hear a sound behind me, I pull in my brows before I look over my shoulder to the bench.

Where Clara is standing.

With the sweetest little smirk on her face.

My minx.

Clara's hair is down in wavy curls along her shoulders, her lips pouty and glossed up, but her face is free of makeup. She's wearing an oversized, long-sleeved Bears shirt and some black leggings. Her eyes are bright and set just on me. "Hey, are you the amazing Coach McCoy?"

I don't know what it is about this girl, but I feel the grim line of my mouth turn up at the side. "I don't know about amazing, baby girl."

Her eyes dance with excitement. "Well, I heard you're the best, and since I don't know how to skate or even shoot a puck, I think you should teach me."

My legs are moving before I even realize I am. I perk a brow at her. "You don't know how to skate?"

She shakes her head. "Nope, and I need a lesson since I'm dating the hottest coach in the world. Are you up for the challenge?"

She's too much.

Too perfect.

Too everything.

I lean my elbows on the boards, caging her in so that our foreheads meet. "I'm always up for a challenge with you." I kiss her nose. "Hey there, baby girl."

Clara's eyes glow with desire as she curves her lips. "Hey there, Riggs."

"I thought you'd be home."

"Nope. I came to the game, and then I decided I wanted to learn to skate."

While she says one thing, her eyes say another. I came and I saw you lose, but I don't care. I only care about you, and I want to be with you. Who am I to push her away? Especially when all I want is to hold her closer than ever. I kiss her nose once more before standing. I exhale and notice a pair of skates in her hand.

"Whose are those?"

"Elliot's. I went to her office and stole them. We're the same size, but I'm not sure how to put them on." I'm confused since it's easy, but why wouldn't I want to do it for her so I can be between her knees?

I nod to the bench. "Alrighty, baby girl, take a seat. Let me lace ya up."

She does as I ask and toes out of her orange sneakers. I take her ankle in my hand, putting the skate on her foot before lacing it up quickly. She watches as I work, her eyes intent on what I'm doing. It reminds me of when she watches me cook. She has such expressive eyes. She wants to learn everything there is to know, and I adore that about her. Clara is a real treasure to behold.

Once I get her skates on, I stand up, and she takes my outstretched hands. I have to hold back my chuckle when her legs shake, making her look like a wee little lamb.

I must be the big, bad wolf 'cause I want to eat her whole.

"I got you, baby girl."

Her eyes shine for me, and I see no fear, only trust. I direct her out onto the ice, and she clutches on to me like a life preserver. Once we're in the center of the ice, I hold her hands with one of mine and then bring my stick between us. "All right, put your hands in the center, and I'm going to pull you so you can get used to the feel of the ice under your skates."

She nods eagerly, her eyes flashing with excitement. I take her around the rink twice, showing off a bit by speeding up while enjoying the view of her hair flying behind her and the flush filling her face. Said face breaks into a big grin, her eyes wide and giddy as I pull her around a third time. Then I show her how to really dig into the ice, moving her skates to do all the work. She catches on quickly, as I knew she would, but when it's time to let go of the stick, her arms go flying, and I catch her around the waist. "Steady now."

A giggle escapes her. "That was scary! I lost my balance."

"I saw," I chuckle, kissing the side of her mouth. "Focus now. You can do it."

She sends me a little grin before I guide her by her hips, and she starts to skate. She's natural, all strength and beauty, as she skates away from me. When I catch up to her, I clap my hands, and she beams up at me. She takes my hand in hers, and we thread our fingers together. She looks down at them, and before I can catch her, she lands on her booty with an oomph.

She hisses as she leans onto her hip, rubbing her ass cheek. "Ow!"

I gather her up quickly. "Shit, baby girl. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but that sucked."

"Yeah, your ass isn't big enough to cushion you from a fall," I tease, and she smacks my chest. I kiss her nose. "Told ya I was an amazing coach."

She gives me a pointed look. "You're the best coach I know." She threads her fingers with mine again, and we start to skate. "Talk to me."

I press my lips together, and she squeezes my hand. I look over to see her watching me, support shining in those navy depths. "I feel like I failed. We should have won. I know that not all games are wins, but fuck, I wanted this one. I wanted to be done with the series. I wanted to move on to the next round and win the Cup."

She nods. "Are you still playing for the Cup?"

I side-eye her, confused. "You know I am."

"Then you're not failing," she says simply. "You're still in this. The boys are going to rally, and let's be honest, they play better in Michigan. Should they have won this game? Yeah, it was tight, but whatever. At least you're still playing."

I know she's right, and hell, I almost said the same thing to my boys. But why didn't I believe my own words when I was saying them? Why did I feel like a fraud in front of my team? Yet, this beautiful girl with her killer eyes and bratty attitude tells me almost word for word what I already yelled at my boys, and I'm hanging on every word she says. "You're right."

"I know. I usually am," she says with an exaggerated wink.

I can't help but snort at that. "Hardly."

She squeezes my hand. "Whenever you start getting down on yourself like that, ask me. Have I ever lied to you?"

"No."

"Do I sugarcoat things with you?"

I shake my head. "No. You're a brat."

"Exactly! So you know I've got you. If you suck, I'll tell you, Grandpa."

I gather her in my arms, bringing her close. Our chests touch, and she looks up at me, her lips parting as she giggles. I lean in until our lips are almost brushing, our eyes locking. "I'm tired of you calling me ‘Grandpa.'"

"Then stop acting like one," she throws back, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Be my big, strong daddy who gets me all hot and bothered."

My cock twitches in my pants as I blow out a breath. I don't know how this girl can take me from such a bad mood to wanting to grin at every turn. She makes me feral to the point of madness. I want to take her to the nearest surface and spank her ass until it's red with my handprint, before I wreck her pussy until this arena knows the chant of not only the Bears, but of my name.

But I can't. Not yet, at least. She's right; I am a great coach, and I'm nowhere near done with her.

I trail my hand down her arm to her wrist, where I know she has a hair tie. I snap it over her hand, and she quirks her lips when I gather her hair up into a high ponytail. As I wrap the hair tie around her thick mane, I kiss her nose then her top lip. When I know her hair is secure, I kiss her bottom lip before pressing my forehead to hers. "You know what, my love?"

She pulls her brows together. "Love? I'm your baby girl."

I shake my head. "Nope. You've been upgraded."

Her eyes twinkle with laughter, her lips twitching into a smirk. "I've been upgraded?"

"Yeah," I say, gathering her in my arms and pulling her up on the tips of her skates. "You have become a very important part of my life, someone I don't want to live a second without. So, you're my love."

I watch as emotions move over her gorgeous face. Shock, excitement, giddiness, and, dare I assume, love. I see it bright in her eyes, and I wonder if she'll say those three words. If she does, will I say them back? As those scary thoughts plague me, a sweet flush fills her cheeks, and I can't help but smile. I know if I don't let her go, I never will, so I move away a bit. "Well, I need to upgrade you."

I lift my brows. "To?"

"I don't know," she laughs, the sound beautiful. "You're not a pet-name kind of guy."

"I could be for you," I say, and her eyes dance for me.

"I'll have to think about it."

"Okay," I say, squeezing her hips. "But for now, my love, it's time for me to teach you how to shoot."

She bobs her head up and down. "Okay. I mean, you keep calling me that, I'm bound to do anything you want."

I chuckle as I pull her closer. "Anything."

She nods, playfulness on her face. "Anything."

My chest goes tight as I lean in. "Kiss me, my love."

She closes the distance, and with a wicked little tilt of her mouth, she says, "Okay, snookums."

The next second, we both dissolve in laughter. My body shakes violently as she cries out, her laughter so loud and deep, it hits me square in the chest. When she leans into me, still giggling and making my heart pound loudly, it's clear what I would say if she said those three words to me.

I think it's been clear. I only thought I couldn't see it.