NOT MY COACH (NIGHTHAWKS #5) BY PRU SCHUYLER – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Pru Schuyler
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Blowing the whistle, I call my team over to center ice. Slower than I
would like, they skate over and surround me. With the second blow,
they pick up the pace, and the last few stragglers race over and join
the huddle.
“Next time, skate that hard on the first whistle.” My tone is harsh but
truthful. “Lazy skaters in practice are lazy skaters in games, and I don’t
have any room for sluggish players in my lines. Clear?” My voice carries
over each one of them and echoes in the rink.
In a disjointed chant, they all answer me, “Yes, Coach.”
With my hands tucked into the pockets of my suit pants, I instruct them,
“I want to see our current overtime lines. Kos, set them up. The winning
team has to score two to end the scrimmage.”
Wide eyes surround me, and I know they’re already exhausted. They’ve
been running nonstop drills for the last two hours. But I don’t care. They
need to work harder.
“Goalies, don’t go easy on them either so that we get out of here sooner.
I’ll be watching,” I warn.
Jensen Donnelley raises his glove, and I nod, giving him permission to
speak.
“Coach, have you considered starting any hobbies? Or finding someone,
maybe a stunner, who will help you release some of that pent-up anger?
You know, instead of us?” He chuckles, and my lips tug up at his attempt to
lighten the mood.
The other guys laugh along with him and mumble incoherently.
“Donnelley?” I call out, my smirk long gone. “Do you want to do
suicides while the rest of your team finishes the last drill?”
His smile falls immediately. “No, Coach.”
Clapping, I smile menacingly. “Perfect. Then, you’ll stay focused on the
puck.”
He immediately jumps in, saying, “And not focus on who you fuck. Got
it, Coach.”
Tilting my head to the side, I give him his last silent warning before I
follow up on my previous threat. He nods and seals his lips shut—a smart
decision for the both of us.
“Kos,” I say and dismiss myself from the circle, heading to the players
bench, where my assistant coaches are standing.
Kos takes over, choosing two of the lines to start on the ice. One of my
assistants walks out to the center with a puck to start the play.
Jensen Donnelley has one hell of a smart mouth. To be honest, he
reminds me of myself when I used to play. That’s why I let him get away
with more than he probably should. I also know he uses that sharp tongue to
make his team laugh and to keep the energy going. He’s a smart kid, and he
knows that talking about my sex life is one hundred percent out of line. But
that doesn’t mean that his suggestion was completely wrong.
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