Chapter one
Maya's POV
I always knew that gossip was unlimited amongst the girls on the hockey team. I'd heard three different versions of the same one already that morning, before I'd even laced up my skates for practice. The new coach is so hot. I heard he has a girlfriend, though. Did you see him during orientation? Oh my God, Maya, you have to see him.
The coach was only seven years older than us. Whoopee. I still didn't care about him. I preferred our last coach, who unfortunately, had to retire.
I'd tuned out the gossip noise the same way I tuned out everything lately, which was by focusing on the ice and nothing else.
I started to build speed through the first lap of warm up. I concentrated on that, instead of the ache I still felt from my breakup with Marcus. If I focused on the right things, I would forget about him soon enough.
After warmups, I called the team to center ice. They gathered around me in a loose cluster, breath clouding the air and with their sticks in hand. I was team captain. This was my moment before every season, and I intended to use it.
"Alright, listen up, girls!" I started, projecting my voice the way I'd learned to. "You all know that the new season means that we have to start afresh. Last year, we finished in third place, and that was...."
My voice trailed off as I realised that the girls were no longer paying attention to me. They were all craning their necks to peer over my head.
"Oh, gosh! Is that the new coach?" One of them whispered, and I turned around.
The new coach was stepping onto the ice from the far end, moving with a slight swagger that I immediately hated. He was tall and broad across the shoulders, wearing gray sweatpants and a fitted blue shirt that did nothing to hide his bulk.
There was a whistle hanging from his neck and hockey cap on his head, dark hair curling at the edges of it. His face was impressively handsome, with a beautiful Greek nose being its centerpiece.
I hated him on sight, and hated him even more for the way that looking at him was doing stupid things to my body.
With a roll of my eyes, I turned back to my team.
"Eyes on me, everyone!" I called out. "Like I was saying, last year we—"
"Ladies." The new coach interrupted me. He stopped a few feet away and looked around at the group with calm authority. "I'm Nathan Garrison, but I'd prefer to be called Coach Garrison. We'll keep introductions short, because I'd rather you learn who I am from how I run practice than from anything I say about myself."
Pompous, much?
The new coach glanced at me briefly, and I felt a zing of electricity move down my chest. "You must be Maya Fletcher, the team captain. You can finish the pep talk at the end of the season. That is if we've earned something worth talking about."
Someone coughed, but it might have been a laugh.
I kept my face neutral, but inside I was burning at the sheer audacity of this man. The absolute nerve! What right did he have to talk over me?
"Okay, let's start with a simple drill," He called out, and just like that, practice started.
I took the drill very seriously. Maybe more seriously than was necessary, but I needed something to hide the fact that I was annoyed. My palms were extremely sweaty inside my gloves, my head was pounding and I really couldn't ignore the effect his voice had on me. I couldn't stand obnoxious people, and Coach Garrison was the very epitome of that.
"Fletcher!" Coach Garrison yelled at me suddenly. "Run the drill again."
"Huh?" I turned around. "But I ran it correctly."
"You ran it your way, which isn't the same thing." He skated toward the center. "You're trying to dominate instead of playing along with your team mates. You're one step ahead of where you should be, and that gap is going to cost you in a real game."
"I've been running that drill since I was fifteen," I grumbled. "I know what the f**k I'm doing. Stop bossing me around!"
Coach Garrison's face went hard immediately. "Rule number one on my ice, never use that type of language with me!"
The girls went quiet. I heard one of them murmur something under her breath.
"Everyone else, hold position," he said. "Fletcher runs this drill alone."
The heat that moved through me was one of pure hatred. I could feel thirty eyes on my back as I reset to the starting position, but I ran the drill the way he wanted, anyway.
When he finally dismissed the team and they started moving toward the exit, I went with them. I had already decided that I was going to put this entire practice behind me. My father was the president of this university. I had never once used that to my advantage, but I was also not accustomed to being handled like I was just another body on the roster.
"Fletcher!"
I stopped skating, feeling that familiar irritation come over me again. What did he want this time? Why was he obsessed with me?
He was pointing to the spot directly in front of him with a stony look in his eyes. "Come front and center, now."
I turned slowly and reluctantly skated back to where he stood at the center line. The last few girls were still filing out. They slowed down just enough to hear what he had to say.
"What is It this time, Coach?" I asked in an overly sugary tone.
"You did not play like a top player today," he corrected me. "I expected better from the president's daughter and the Captain of this team."
"Perhaps if you stopped undermining my authority, I just might play better." I retorted.
A look of shock appeared on his face at my words, but I was done with that conversation. He could go suck a fat one, for all I cared.
