My Dad's Hocky Coach Is Obsessed With Me

Chapter two

Maya's POV

We all filed into the athletes' cafeteria after practice, and the only thing I wanted was to eat my food in peace. But that was apparently too much to ask.

"Did you hear that he was fired from his last coaching job because of alleged s****l assault?" Angelina, one team mate, whispered conspiratorially. "He was cleared to be innocent, but his reputation..."

"Whatever happened to him, I think he's a really good coach." Dani replied. "I mean, he is really intense. He's so different from Coach Bailey. I don't know if I love it or hate it yet."

"I love it," Sienna interjected from two seats down, not looking up from her phone. "It's refreshing, to be honest. Knowing that spots on this team are actually earned." She paused just long enough to glare at me. "By everyone."

The table went quiet at her words. Sienna had never liked me, I knew that, because I had "stolen" the captain seat from her, or because I "bought my position on the team through my dad". Or whatever she chose to tell people.

I looked up from my food and met her eyes across the table. "Come for me with your chest next time, Sienna, or don't do it at all. Because the last time I checked, my stats are the reason scouts are showing up to our games. But sure, keep telling yourself it's because of my last name. Unlike you, I didn't warm the bench for half the season last season."

"Sick burn," Dani muttered into her bread roll.

Sienna looked back down at her phone, but there was an embarrassed blush on her cheeks.

I went back to my food, except now my appetite was gone. I picked up my fork again and made myself eat, listening to the conversation around me as the girls moved on to safer territory. They were back to talking about Coach Garrison and how unreasonably hot he was.

I was halfway through tuning that conversation out too, when the cafeteria doors opened and the man himself walked in.

He had changed out of the practice gear into dark jeans and a gray pullover, and he was deep in conversation with a woman I recognized as one of the assistant athletic coordinators. Dr. something, I couldn't remember her name.

What I could see perfectly clearly was that she was holding on to his bicep, and laughing heartily at something he was saying. Oh, Christ!

I felt both contempt and exhaustion. Seriously, what was it about this man that made otherwise sensible women forget themselves completely? He'd been on campus for less than five minutes!

But inspite of the woman hanging off his arm, he was staring straight at me. He didn't break eye contact, and it made me feel oddly exposed. I broke eye contact first, and then almost immediately wished I hadn't. It felt like a loss.

Why was he so obsessed with me? Why did I always feel his eyes tailing me wherever I went?

Ignoring him, I reached for my water glass and found it empty. That was a problem, because my mouth was dry and the water dispenser was across the room, directly in the vicinity of where Coach Garrison was now standing while he waited for his food. I set the glass back down and decided I wasn't that thirsty.

I ate the rest of my food slowly and waited until he'd collected his plate and moved to a table near the far window. Then I stood up and walked to the water dispenser.

I was filling my cup, watching the water rise, when a voice directly behind me said, "Fletcher. Get me a cup while you're there."

"What the f—" I flinched so hard that water sloshed over the rim of my cup and splashed on the ground.

Coach Garrison was directly behind me, barely three inches away. I willed my body to move away from him, but it didn't obey me. He glanced at the water on the floor, then up at my face; I didn't miss the way his eyes dragged over my body. "I didn't realize you were this distracted and clumsy off the ice as well."

Angrily, I grabbed a napkin from the counter and wiped the water that had spilled onto my hand. "I wouldn't have spilled anything if you hadn't snuck up on me."

"You looked slow on that last drill today," he said, like we hadn't just been talking about something else entirely. "Your reaction time in the final sequence was behind where it should be."

I stared at him. "Is that what you came all the way here to tell me?"

"Performance doesn't turn off depending on location." He murmured, and his eyes dropped to my mouth as he spoke. I felt that familiar, electric zing again.

From somewhere behind me, I heard Sienna's voice carry across the room with perfect aim. "He's right, Maya. Listen to the coach, he actually knows what he's talking about."

I did not turn around. I kept my eyes on Coach Garrison and tried to breathe evenly through my nose.

"Come for early drills tomorrow morning," he ordered me. "Be there by 6am, and that is not a suggestion."

"What?" I gasped. "I have a full schedule tomorrow. I need sleep!"

"Adjust it." Was all he said.

"Coach Garrison." I kept my voice level. "I think you're aware of who my father is."

Anger crossed his face then. "Oh, I'm completely aware," he said. "That's exactly why I'm treating you the same as everyone else on that team. Your father hired me to coach, and that's what I'm doing."

"I don't need extra drills," I told him through gritted teeth, then turned to walk back to my table.

But before I could take a step, his hand closed around my wrist and roughly yanked me back. Then he leaned in slightly, dropping his voice so others in the cafeteria didn't hear.

"Listen to me, Fletcher. If you are late tomorrow, even by one minute, I will bench you for the remainder of the season. Do we understand each other?"

I looked at him in utter shock. What kind of coach operated like this? What kind of unreasonable, relentless, completely unhinged person acted like this? Much as I hated to wield my power as the daughter of the university president, I knew I would have to report him to my dad.

"We understand each other," I muttered. Play it cool for the time being. He let go of my wrist and straightened up.