Chapter 6 Starting Line
Rafe’s POV
Coach Ramirez stood in the center of the locker room like he was about to declare war. The place was alive with the usual pre-game chaos—sticks clicking on the floor, guys shouting over each other.
But then he cleared his throat and the noise disappeared into thin air. “Listen up!” he barked, his voice echoing off the locker room walls, “Tonight isn’t just another game, because tonight we’re going head to head against the Pacific Fury. They walk into our territory thinking they can embarrass us on our own ice…hell they’ve got egos bigger than their winning streak for a whole season. And they think we’re going to just roll over and let them.”
He paced slowly now, boots thudding against the polished marble floor while his eyes scanned every single face as she spoke. “We don’t roll over,” he continued, his voice quieter now but every word landed like a body check.
“We fight back. We skate harder…and we fight dirtier! We remind them why Storm Ridge is feared, because tonight, every move matters. You want your name on a pro contract? You want scouts writing your number down instead of the other guy’s? Then leave it all out there. No excuses. No mercy. We don’t just play tonight…we dominate!”
A low ripple of agreement moved through the room, their sticks tapping the floor in unison.
“Let’s go!” Someone muttered behind me.
I leaned against the far wall, my arms crossed firmly against my chest, trying to look like my entire focus was on the game tonight. But my eyes kept drifting across the room…to him.
Shawn stood at the opposite end of the locker room—helmet tucked under his arm, wearing a black practice jersey that clung to his body like a second skin. He hadn’t looked at me even once since we walked in.
I kept staring.
And then, as though he felt my eyes on him—he looked up.
Our eyes met.
Instantly.
For one heartbeat the locker room faded completely, and it was just the two of us. Those deep blue eyes locked on mine forced the memories of what happened between us to flood through me like water.
The shower two days ago, his cock grinding against mine—hot, slick, leaking.The way he’d groaned my name at the exact moment he was about to climax.
Fuck!
Even after two days I could still smell him on me. Before either of us could make meaning out of anything, Shawn ripped his gaze away—fast, like he’d been caught doing something wrong.
A slow, satisfied smile curved at my lips the moment he turned away.
He was scared.
Good.
“Navarro!”
Coach Ramirez’s voice shattered through my thoughts, and my head snapped forward. He was staring straight at me now, “You deaf, Kid? Or do you just like making me repeat myself?”
“No, Coach.”
He stepped closer, his eyes raking over me like he was looking at something unpleasant.
“You’ve been a ghost out there lately. Slow. But tonight’s going to be different because this is your shot to show you belong here…or prove everyone right when they say you’ll always be nothing but Kai’s shadow.”
The room instantly went quiet, every pair of eyes glued to me as Ramirez spoke. “So here’s the deal,” he continued, voice low and deliberate. “I’m putting you on the starting line tonight. First line. Right wing.”
A shockwave rolled through the locker room. So many whispers and exhales that I couldn’t even keep count of them.
“No. Fucking. Way.” One guy muttered across from me.
Holy shit!
Starting line?
Me?
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“One lazy shift,” Coach Ramirez’s voice cut through like a whip. “Even one dumb penalty, and you’re benched for the rest of the season. Understood?”
I forced a nod, even as I was yet to recover from the shock. “Y…yes, Coach.”
He gave me one hard look, then turned away. “Rest of you…get your asses to the tunnel in five. Let’s go win this thing.”
The room exploded again with guys shouting, slapping pads, and grabbing their sticks to move. But I barely heard it.
I looked across the room to see Shawn staring at me, his jaws clenched so tight I could see the veins in his neck.
“Coach…wait,” he shoved off the lockers and stormed toward Ramirez. “You can’t be serious.”
“Something wrong, Calder?” Ramirez turned to face him.
Shawn stopped a foot away, his voice low but shaking with anger. “He’s a rookie, and you put him on the first line tonight? With scouts watching? You’re risking the whole game on him?”
“I’m the coach.” Ramirez snapped, “I make the calls around here, and he’s earned the shot. You got a problem with that?”
Shawn’s fists clenched tighter. “I’ve got a problem with risking tonight’s game for a rookie who can’t keep his head straight.”
The entire locker room went dead quiet, the other guys who were about to leave I’m stopped abruptly to witness the entire drama.
“You dare question my decision, Captain?” Coach Ramirez stepped closer, nothing funny about the tone of his voice now.
“I’m only just protecting the team.”
“You’re protecting your ego,” Ramirez shot back coldly. “Navarro’s is in the starting line tonight. End of discussion. Get your ass to the tunnel.”
Shawn stood there for a second as Coach Ramirez stormed out of the locker room— then turned sharply and began to make his way towards the exit. But every step screamed rage.
Oh! I was going to miss this for anything in the world.
Without hesitation, I stood up, grabbed my stick, and walked toward the tunnel. Shawn was already at the tunnel entrance, his steps echoing loudly on the polished marble floor.
I slowed as I passed him, then leaned in just enough that only he could hear. “Looks like I’m taking your spot tonight, Captain,” I whispered almost close to his ears, my voice low and teasing.
“Everything you’ve worked so hard for… slipping right out of your hands and you can’t do anything about it.” I stepped closer, my lips almost grazing his ear.
“See you on the ice.”
I didn’t wait for him to answer.
I walked past him into the tunnel, even as my heart was pounding with something that felt dangerously close to victory.
Behind me, I felt his stare burning into my back.