The Assistant Coach (BOOK 1: OMEN KING SERIES)

|𝟸𝟻|

Leia Welsh

Principal Turner decided to shower me with praise this morning, going on and on about how I single-handedly led the team to victory. Even though he knew, it was a tie.

The cold air bites at my skin as I glide across the ice, feeling the chill seep into my bones. My outfit of choice—a tight white compression shirt and black jeans—does nothing to keep me warm. I decided to let my long hair down, hoping it would provide some much-needed warmth.

After a sleepless night of studying, I find myself at the rink, setting up cones for a new drill. I call it the zig zag stop. I skate full throttle to the first cone, slide to the left for the second, and come to a sudden halt.

This is just too easy.

I think about it for a moment, tapping my skate impatiently against the ice. A smirk forms on my lips as I come up with an idea, but I quickly realize that I can't execute it alone.

I've been noticing a trend with the boys – they excel in solo drills but struggle when paired up. It's like they all have some sort of partnership curse. I've been shuffling the pairings around so much that it's starting to drive me insane.

I've had enough of Ant's lazy attitude and Miller's constant yawning. They're like two sloths trying to outdo each other in a race to the bottom.

And don't even get me started on Tim and Matt. Those two clowns are always cracking jokes and making snide remarks behind my back. As if I couldn't hear them whispering and snickering like a couple of idiotic schoolboys.

Owen and Ronald are a decent team, but they tend to mess up because they're both quiet at times.

Warren and Kateb, on the other hand, are like two peas in a pod – always bickering because they're so similar. Kateb is basically a younger version of Warren.

Then there's Mason, my partner. He always says he has a good time, but I can tell he'd rather be partnered up with one of the boys.

As I skate around the cones, trying to figure out the teams, a loud voice startles me, causing me to crash into the barricade and land on the ice with a thud.

"Shit," I mutter, seeing Warren skating towards me.

Despite the situation, I can't help but be distracted by how good he looks.

He's decked out in a navy-blue t-shirt that perfectly complements his skates, opting for hockey breezes instead of regular pants. I glance up at him as he glides to a halt and extends his large hand towards me. I chuckle as I take his hand, his piercing cobalt blue eyes locking onto mine as his black hair cascades over his face.

He turns his attention to the cones, his Adam's apple bobbing and his sharp jawline cutting through the air.

He's practically a Greek god on skates.

And I've kissed said Greek god not once, but twice. It's embarrassing to admit, but those kisses still linger in my mind when I least expect it.

"Not even gonna bother asking if I'm okay, such a gentleman, Warren," I mutter as I skate towards the cones, him trailing behind me.

"If you weren't okay, you wouldn't be staring at me like you're undressing me with your eyes," he retorts with a smirk, causing me to cough and widen my eyes as I veer to the left and come to a stop, locking gazes with him.

"Look who's suddenly grown a bigger ego. As if I would waste my time fantasizing about that," I shrug nonchalantly before plopping down on the ice and beginning to unlace my skates. He follows suit, mirroring my actions.

"You should really be focusing on your mental health, instead of sneaking off to the rink late at night to work yourself to the bone," I deadpan.

He just chuckles, his deep laugh echoing in the empty arena. As he moves closer, the scent of his cologne wafts over me, causing a strange flutter in my stomach.

"Wow, Leia the stalker," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips. "Or should I call you Coach Welsh, like the other guys?"

I roll my eyes, used to the guys giving me a hard time. Most of them just stick with the classic "ice queen" nickname.

We both kick off our skates, standing on the slick ice in our socks. He looks steady on his feet, so I do my best to appear nonchalant as well. I reach out to grab his hand, surprised when he doesn't hesitate to take it.

"Alright, we're gonna run to each cone, come to a stop, then switch turns," I explain, gesturing to the cones lined up on the ice.

He raises an eyebrow. "That's gonna be tricky, trying to stop on ice with just socks on," he mutters, but his grip tightens on my hand as we start sliding towards the first cone.

The tingling sensation in my chest grows stronger, a mix of excitement and something else I can't quite place. He takes off on the ice, dragging me along with him towards the first cone.

We try to stop, but Warren loses his balance and crashes down, causing me to land right on top of him. He groans in pain, but the sound of his laughter fills the air, making his chest vibrate beneath me.

"The guys are going to think I'm out to get them hurt," I quip, giggling as I rest against his chest, feeling the cold seep into my numb feet.

"They probably already do, especially after you clocked Miller in the head with Kateb's busted hockey stick," Warren replies, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

We both burst into laughter, tears welling up in our eyes as I remember the incident with Miller. He had it coming. We finally stop laughing, and I realize I'm still straddling him

His heavy breaths tickle my face, and he gazes into my eyes before his glance drops to my chest. I clear my throat and awkwardly climb off him, standing up as he does the same.

"Sometimes I wonder if you do it on purpose," he mutters in a slightly irritated tone, leaving me puzzled.

Before I can respond, he snatches his skates and glides out of the rink, leaving me to ponder what he meant. Was it my joke about the guys fearing for their lives around me?

(How do we feel about this chapter?) —>

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