My phone started buzzing, and when I saw the number flashing on the screen, I quickly answered it.
“Banning speaking.”
“Congratulations, Coach.”
It was Nora Renner, Sutton’s President.
“Thank you, Nora,” I replied. “But it’s the players you should be talking to.”
“I’ll get to them eventually.” She chuckled. “I’m sure they’re too busy celebrating right now.”
“They’re having the time of their life.”
And as I looked around at all the smiling faces, there was no doubt that the party was just getting started.
“I hope this means that you’ll be coming back to Sutton in the fall,” Nora continued. “Dean Chancer informed me that you haven’t signed your contract yet.”
David Chancer was the dean of athletics and the one who’d recommended me for this job in the first place. I played with him back in college, and once I moved to Vermont, Dave and I became fast friends again, in addition to colleagues.
“I’ll sign it when I get back,” I insisted. “I’m ready for another year. But I have a few additional clauses.”
One year was all I was committing to at this point. I wanted to coach at the professional level, but I’d probably only get offered an assistant position. Still, I had a year to figure it out. I loved Vermont, and it had been a great place for me to land after a two-year coaching gig with Pemberton College in Washington. I didn’t like my initial college coaching experience, but I knew it wasn’t about them, but me. It was my first job after leaving Chicago. I needed the income and the change of scenery, but mentally, I’d still reeled from early retirement.
Five years after I stepped off the professional league ice as a player, and I was ready to return. Coaching wasn’t the same as being a d-man, but I’d found my footing again. I was ready for the next step in my career.
And with today’s success, another goal accomplished, restlessness was already taking hold. I wanted more. There was another milestone to achieve, another high I needed to chase. One thing in my life hadn’t changed and that was my unending desire to be the best.
You can take the player out of the game, but you can’t ever take the game out of the player.
CHAPTER 6
SILAS
It suits you?
God, how lame was that line I’d spewed out? And to my coach?
Think before you speak.
Banning, of course, ignored my comment. Like I’d tried to ignore the way he looked when he peeled off that suit jacket. The guy hadn’t played hockey for years, but his body was prime; his biceps nearly ripping through those white, now transparent, shirtsleeves. In my mind, there were all sorts of dirty jokes to be made about me showering him in sticky fluids, the least of which was champagne.
Thank fuck I had the good sense to keep my mouth shut.
It was the adrenaline rush from the win, pure and simple. Okay, not pure. Not at all. And not simple.
But to be honest, Coach was hot. There, I’d said it.
Hot and straight. At least, I assumed he was straight. I’d done a bit of digging around online and spotted pictures of him and his wife. Ex-wife. According to the hockey gossip, she’d cleaned him out of almost everything in the divorce and took up with another player only a few months after they split. Talk about a kick to the injured balls.
No relationships for me. No thanks.
And what did I care about him anyway? I needed to erase any thoughts about Banning from my mind forever.
Done. Phew.
Winning always made me horny, so I’d blame my inane wanderings on that. We had a championship to celebrate and everything in my body was primed to fuck or fight. Given that we were in Chicago, and had an overnight, I’d decided that a hookup was the best way to reward myself. In a city this big, there had to be plenty of gay bars, and I’d be ready to do some googling when I got back to my room. A sports bar would be ideal, but at this point, I wasn’t picky.
“You got Coach so good,” Finn teased me as we posed for pictures. “That suit is done.”
