The Assistant Coach (BOOK 1: OMEN KING SERIES)

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Leia Welsh

I wave Ari off as soon as we get to the I.S building.

I swagger into chemistry, taking my usual seat in the far back with a sense of nonchalance. Other students start to pile in, but my attention is immediately drawn to Owen, the Right defenseman on the hockey team.

I always knew he was in this class, but I never paid him any attention before. Now, it's kind of hard not to, considering I'm basically his coach and we're in the same class.

Of course, my luck couldn't get any worse as he decides to sit right beside me. His eyes are practically burning a hole in the side of my face, making it difficult to ignore him.

"This is you, right?" Owen's voice breaks through my thoughts as he holds out his phone, displaying a picture of me holding a hockey stick and smiling.

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I quickly grab his phone and set it down. "I thought so. If that's you, then why are you here instead of out there winning a championship?"

Owen's blunt question catches me off guard, but I can't say I expected anything less from him.

"You know that saying? 'Don't stick your nose in someone else's business'?" I retort, watching as he simply shrugs his shoulders and turns his attention to our professor.

I didn't expect him to give up so easily. If it were Warren, he would have pestered me until I gave him an answer. It's becoming clear to me that Owen and Warren are different than I initially thought.

Sure, they both think with their dicks, but they each have their own quirks and complexities that make them different.

Like Warren, that hockey-obsessed dude, is like a walking inspiration poster. Nothing gets in the way of his love for the game. He even took back his offer for us to hook up, which honestly, I saw coming.

You can't exactly jump into bed with your coach and expect things to stay professional. Not that I was planning on doing that anyway.

"What are the drills for practice today?" he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

I shrug, putting on my best poker face. "Haven't decided yet," I lie through my teeth. I've already got a plan in mind. And I know they're all going to hate it. But hey, that's half the fun of being in charge, right?

I quickly grab my skates and hastily lace them up, feeling the cold material against my skin. The whistle dangles around my neck, a stark contrast to my gray leggings that are already clinging to my legs.

My white long sleeve shirt is sticking to my skin, a reminder of my rushed shower that left me no time to properly dry off. I top off the ensemble with a gray cap, letting my hair fall into a low ponytail.

I absentmindedly run my fingers through the ends of my long hair, contemplating whether it's time for a trim now that it's reached my waist.

Kateb's snide remark of "Ice Queen" cuts through the air as he stands beside me.

"Little punk," I shoot back with a matching tone as we make our way to the rink. I glide onto the ice behind him, the cold seeping through my skates.

As the other guys join us, Warren's gaze lingers on me with a hint of concern. I feel a twinge of annoyance, he probably knows as well, of course he knows, Owen, him, and his other roommates all know about my past.

Despite the distractions, I focus on the task at hand, ready to dive into the practice.

"Where's Coach Johnson?" Mason asks, scanning the empty rink as the rest of the team realizes he's M.I.A.