[WAITLISTED] you were never mine // matthew boldy

13

I took a deep breath and peeked my head through Dean's door where he was typing something onto his laptop.

"You said you wanted to see me?" I asked him, and he looked up from his computer and stared into my eyes.

"Yeah, take a seat," he told me, pointing at the black leather seat in front of his desk that had a few scuff marks on the leather.

I nodded my head and sat down in the chair. Dean closed his laptop and took his glasses off.

He sighed, tenting his fingers on the desk. "How have things been with you and Peyton?" he asked, which confused me a little. Why was he asking about the situation with my girlfriend? Because of what happened when she broke up with me and I became more of a liability then a team player?

I shrugged, smiling. "Things are good," I told him, bringing my leg up and holding it in my hands as my calf rested on my opposite thigh.

He softly chuckled, taking a sip out of his mug with a picture of his wife and kids on it. "I can tell," he said, setting the mug on the coaster. "You're back to the Matt Boldy we know and love,"

I blushed at his kind words. He was so generous to give me a permanent roster spot on the Wild, so of course I had to prove that I belonged to the team, not letting heartbreak affect my performance and putting that spot in jeopardy.

"Thanks Dean," I said, still smiling.

He chuckled again. "Your plus-minus is back up in the positives since we last met one-on-one. Three goals, four assists, ten shots on net, you're doing fantastic," he continued.

I softly chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose that's what happens when you're back into a positive state of mind," I responded.

He nodded his head in agreement. "Exactly. Which is why I'm gonna put you on the second line,"

My eyes widened. I was going to play on the second line with Kirill and Mats?

"I'm gonna be the center for Kirill and Mats?" I asked him, trying to get clarification. "I'm a winger, though,"

Dean gave me a smile, like the both of us knew what he was trying to do.

"And you've taken face-offs before, haven't you?" he asked me, raising an eyebrow. "With Hartman moving up to the first line and Ek out with an injury, you're really the only option,"

My smile faded into a frown, but I completely understood what Dean was saying. I played center sometimes when I was with Boston College, and I've taken a few face-offs in Iowa. But at the major league level? That was only a faded memory.

"I understand, but shouldn't I need practice to get myself back into the rhythm?" I asked him, as if we literally just got done with practice about an hour ago.

He tapped his fingers on the dark oak finished desk and stared me down like I was about to be road meat. "I think you'll be fine for tomorrow's game against the Rangers. If it doesn't work, I'll switch you and Kirill," he responded. Kirill wasn't much of a center either, but he's definitely taken more face-offs than me with his experience in the NHL and even in the KHL in Russia.

I nodded my head. "Alright,"

He smiled again. "Glad to hear everything is going well with your girlfriend. Your performance says so," he chuckled, reaching for his mug again and taking a sip of his coffee.

I blushed again. Dean must've woken up on the right side of the bed. Normally he wasn't this cheerful, and it may have freaked me out a little bit.

"Anyways, that's all I've got," he told me as he set his mug back down and looked at me again. "Keep the good work up, Matt. I'm proud of you. You're dismissed,"