Coach Kingston's Price

AMARA POV The ice didn't feel right under my skates all morning. Every stride landed half a second too late, like my body was chasing a rhythm my mind refused to give it, and I couldn't tell anymore if the ringing in my ears was the rink around me or the sound of a door I'd slammed two weeks ago. My gloves were soaked through with sweat, but my hands felt frozen, and above it all, one ugly question kept looping: how do you keep playing captain of your own life once someone else has already stolen the puck? I didn't hear the whistle. I didn't hear the drill call. I was somewhere else entirely — a fraternity hallway, a door that wouldn't lock, a laugh that wasn't mine — until a voice cut through the fog hard enough to drag me back onto the ice. "Hey, Mari! Focus!" Someone barked my name from the blue line, but I was too distracted to even turn around. My mind was stuck in the past, replaying the moment I stepped into Preston Beaumont's fraternity house and caught him with the very girl he told me not to worry about. I'd dated that asshole since my freshman year three years ago. I did everything Preston wanted just to keep him. I thought he was too good for me. Unlike a scholarship student like me, Preston's family had money. The Beaumonts were major benefactors to Ashford Crest University, and he was the captain of the men's hockey team. I made sure to keep my messy family issues away from him so I wouldn't come off as a gold digger, yet he still chose to betray me. "s**t!" I hissed as I watched the puck skitter out of the defensive zone, sliding straight to the opposing winger. The Assistant Coach blew his whistle, and practice came to an end. I could hear the girls on my team murmuring, definitely blaming me for the failure. "Mari! What the hell was that?" Coach Odell Grant bellowed from where he stood, looking furious. "That's three turnover passes in ten minutes! Is this how you plan to play during our upcoming matches?" "I'm sorry," I said, but the words barely came out. Coach's nose flared, and imagining how disappointed he was made my shoulders slump. I couldn't even meet his gaze at this point. As he stormed off, the murmurs around me only grew louder. I gritted my teeth, wiping cold sweat off my forehead with the back of my glove as I glided over to the boards. My friend skated over, but I didn't lift my head because I knew what was coming next. "All right, out with it," Jada crossed her arms. "You've been off all morning. Is this about Beaumont?" "I'm fine. Everything doesn't have to be about Preston," I rasped, but I knew she wasn't going to let it go. "Amara, you missed two face-offs and handed them a breakaway. You can't tell me this isn't about Preston," she nudged. "The only time you're like this is if you two get in a fight. Did something happen?" "It wasn't a fight, Jada. I broke up with him," I said flatly, finally looking into her brown eyes. She looked surprised. "What?" "I caught him at the Phi Kappa house two weeks ago, drunk out of his mind and f*****g that Bree girl." Jada gasped, her mouth opening, then closing again. She always had a flair for the dramatics, but I couldn't even bring myself to laugh. "Why am I just hearing about this? Didn't he say Bree was just a friend?" "It doesn't matter anymore," I muttered, looking in the other direction to hide the tears burning at the back of my eyes. "The week just started, and it's been horrible." Jada followed me out as we left the rink and headed to the locker rooms. When we got there, we both took off our gear. Then I took out my phone and clicked on an email I had received just that morning. I handed the phone to Jada, and she read the email out loud. "From the Office of Athletic Scholarships. Academic second warning." She glanced at me as I plopped down on one of the benches. "Ms. Voss, your current GPA of 2.0 falls below the mandatory 3.0 threshold for athletic retention. While your high school performance earned your spot, failure to raise your marks alongside an exceptional athletic evaluation will result in the immediate withdrawal ... " Jada trailed off, and I could already imagine the look on her face. "Go on," I encouraged her with my hand. "Keep reading." "When did you get the first warning?" Jada asked. "How could I show you that?" I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the wall behind me. "It's been hard, Jada. Juggling school, hockey, and my three part-time jobs ... " I swallowed as tears welled up in my eyes. "I'm scared I might lose this scholarship." "No, don't say that." She came to sit beside me, but I shook my head. "This is the second warning." I sniffed away my tears, but my voice cracked as I continued. "I'm paying for my mom's chemo, and my little brother's still in high school. If I lose this scholarship, I'll have to drop out of Ashford Crest because I would never be able to afford tuition on my own." "Oh," Jada sighed wearily, pulling me into her embrace. "I'm so sorry, Amara." I couldn't bring myself to hug her back. I didn't have any strength left. I could only bury my face in her shoulder, praying I didn't burst into tears. Just then, I heard footsteps behind us, and I figured the other girls had arrived. Jada let me go, but she kept rubbing my back. "Don't worry," she whispered. "We'll talk about this." "The coach is rounding everyone up," someone announced. "Let's go!" I wiped my face and hurried out with Jada to join the rest of the team. Across the central ice platform, the men's hockey team was filing out of their locker room tunnel. Preston was right at the front, his helmet off, shaking out his messy blonde hair. He caught my eye and offered the same sheepish, pleading look he'd been offering for two weeks now. I looked past him, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Athletic Director Marcus stood at the front beside an unusually tall man in a dark overcoat. "Listen up, both programs," Marcus called out in a loud voice. "As you know, Coach Zane Holloway stepped down last week. But we are thrilled to announce his replacement. Former NHL All-Star and Olympic gold medalist ... Coach Maddox Kingston." Excited murmurs broke out among the players. Even the girls squealed. My gaze shifted to the man standing beside Marcus. He had an imposing build with a sharp jaw dark with fresh stubble. His dark hair was neatly combed back, framing his face. I had to give it to him. The man was unusually handsome. His expression was cold but his green eyes were piercing. Almost like he could see through one's clothes. That face ... My lips parted when I realized how familiar he was. "Oh, hell no!" I breathed. "What is it?" Jada asked, leaning in. But I couldn't answer. I could only hide my face behind a girl who was a foot taller than me. "Oh, God!" I sighed, clenching my teeth and praying this was a bad dream. "You good? You're being weird," Jada tried to keep her voice down. How could I even start to explain that the new coach was from the bar downtown two weeks ago? He was the stranger I had aggressively flirted with while drowning my heartbreak in with shots of tequila. Just thinking about the experience made my p***y throb. But remembering how he had dropped a stack of dollar bills on the nightstand after our little encounter made me hate the new coach already. I had thrown the money in his face. There was no way he wouldn't recognize me here. Maddox Kingston took a step forward, his green eyes sweeping over our line. For a moment, his gaze landed on me and my eyes widened a little. I was trying to keep a straight face, but he didn't seem to recognize me. He looked right past me, raising a silver whistle to his lips. "I don't care about your past records," his baritone echoed. "Starting today, every spot on this ice is earned. If you can't keep up, you can use the door." Then, Maddox slowly walked down the edge of the boards. He stopped right in front of my section, his eyes casually dropping to the front of my white team hoodie, reading the bold letters printed across my chest. "Voss. Number 14." I swallowed as he looked back up. I knew I was doing a terrible job at hiding my nervousness. But he said nothing. However, as he walked back to Marcus, I caught a small smirk on the corner of his lips. "f**k! I'm so done."