They share a grin, but then Baylor is looking at the floor again. When Jace looks over at me, I look at him and shake my head. “Don’t you say a word.”

He doesn’t even agree or disagree. His eyes are wide, a “what the fuck” look on his face as his eyes direct back to our no-holds-barred coach. He may be scary, but I like that he has come down to our level, that he is talking to us as equals. Looking around, I can see the fear and even some resentment in my teammates’ eyes. None of us likes change; it took a lot for us to learn Coach Moss. Thankfully, we all know each other. We know that we can be the best. With Baylor being the only new person, I have a feeling that a lot of my teammates are not gonna be able to handle her.

Coach was right when he said this was an egotistical sport, and a lot of my teammates are just that. They know they are the best, and our team is, but we’ve learned to respect each other. A girl coming in and showing them up? Yeah, not gonna go over well. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous for her, and as much as I want her to go away because I know she can beat me, I also want her to shine. I know how badly she wants this, and I believe that she can make it, but this is not going to be easy.

Because while I’m trying to beat her, I’m also going to be protecting her.

Which can put a target on my back and also throw me off my game.

That struggle, man. It’s real.

“I was brought here for a reason,” he says softly. I swear you could hear a puck drop it is so eerily quiet as he looks at all of us, gauging our reactions. “I am here to make you the best because I am the best. I can see the way you guys are looking at her. Yeah, she’s a girl. But I can promise you, she will make this team better. She will make you better, because she is the best.”

He then looks directly at me and holds my gaze. It’s as if he is talking just to me, and I know he’s right. Chills run down my spine as I suck in a deep breath. Baylor has his eyes, those intense, no-bullshit kind of eyes that put a little fear inside of you. He isn’t playing. He isn’t blowing smoke up our asses; he means business and I know he is my ticket to the top.

The only problem is Baylor is attached to him.

And now me.

And in no way, shape, or form the way I dreamed.

I’m trying to act cool.

I’m trying to act like I’m not nervous.

That I belong.

That this is my ice.

That I’m not shaking in my skates.

That my neck isn’t itching from the sweat dripping down it.

Or that it is taking every ounce of my willpower not to just burst out in tears from the frustration of being under his damn gaze.

Staring into those eyes, the depths of green emeralds that are as hard as ice, has my skin breaking out in gooseflesh and my heart pounding so hard, I’m sure it’s gonna shatter through my ribs, rip through my chest and land dead on the ice. I feel completely and utterly out of place, and that’s not right. This is what I’m meant to do, this is my ice, this is going to be my team, but I can’t even look at anyone. I can feel their gazes on me, scrutinizing me, and sizing me up. I should be used to it, it happens all the time, but not when Jayden is watching.

He makes it all kinds of different.

He makes me nervous, freaks me out, and I don’t know, makes me feel little, if that makes sense? I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it. Maybe it’s because I let my walls down, because I let him get a foot in—only a foot, thank God—but still, he got more in than any other person. But then he turned it all around and threw it in my face, along with all the rejection of an army. Okay, maybe that’s a tad dramatic, but still, he hurt me.

And I don’t let people hurt me. Which says a lot about him. A lot I don’t want to admit or even recognize, but it’s right there. Like a big old “Open” sign, telling me he means more than I think. But then I decided to beat the shit out of the sign with my hockey stick. Somehow though, the dumb-ass sign is still blinking, and no matter how much I beat it or try to ignore it, it’s there. He’s there. With those sinful eyes.

As my dad talks, he listens intently, every bit the hard-core hockey player I know he is. When he does look at me—which has only been three times, not that I’m counting—he doesn’t glare. He doesn’t have any anger in his eyes, more like surprise and maybe even a little curiosity. He was shocked when my dad said I was going for captain, but he wasn’t mad. Maybe a little worried, though. Probably because he knows I can beat him.

No. That I am going to beat him.

“So yeah, I hope you guys trust me because I trust you. Until you break my trust, all of you are my boys. I will treat you as mine as long as you do what I expect of you. Step out of line, I will ruin you. It’s that simple,” Dad says with all the truth in the world.

Last year, three guys got kicked off the team for disrespecting not only me but also two other guys. They were hazing us something crazy, coming in in the middle of the night and beating us with socks full of pucks. I had two cracked ribs and still have a chipped tooth, but I wasn’t talking. Neither were the other two guys. We kept it in and dealt with it because it was supposed to happen, they explained. But when Seth, our captain and my ex, found out, he lost his ever-loving shit. That’s probably why I fell in love with him. When in the end, he hurt me more than the three idiots ever could.

So in retrospect, I’d take those socks over the heartache of Seth anytime.

Hell, I might even take them over being under Jayden’s gaze.

“But let’s hope that doesn’t happen. Instead, let’s be a family, okay?” he asks and everyone nods, almost in awe of him. Usually, it takes time for the team to trust their coach, but I can see in all of these guys’ eyes. They believe my dad, which is good, because he’s the real shit. “Good, now I need all my forwards in a line, my defensemen behind them. Goalies, Patrick and Willards, y’all are in goal. Finne, you’re on the bench for now, but don’t let that derail you, you’ll get your chance in goal.”

Everyone starts to stand, and I don’t miss the looks from my teammates as we section off. I do everything in my power to go nowhere near Jayden, but somehow he ends up behind me in the line with the defensemen.

“Sinclair, Moore, Blomqvist, first line with Sinclair and Kuntz.”

Jace pops his head out of the line and glances over at me, a huge grin on his face. I don’t know why he is grinning at me. He is public enemy number one’s brother. He’s as good as dead to me too, but by the way he looks, I guess he’s just realized that.