Page 149 of Uncoachable

I laugh, the sound bright and unburdened. “Obnoxiously?”

“Oh, yeah,” he smirks, pulling me into his side. “You’d better prepare yourself. I’m going to be your biggest donor and your most annoying volunteer.”

He leans in, brushing a soft kiss to my forehead. Then he glances at the clock on the wall and his expression shifts slightly.

“But first…”

I groan, leaning my head onto his shoulder. “Right. We have a morning skate.”

He grins, standing up and stretching. “I hope you’re planning on staying for the last game, Coach. We kinda need you behind the bench. Also, the guys and I really want that Cup, and we’re not sure we can do it if you’re too busy filing paperwork.”

I shove his shoulder lightly, laughing as I stand up with him. “Yes, Cal. I’m staying through the final whistle. And yes—we’re going to win.”

“Good,” he says, his expression turning serious for a moment as he offers me his hand. “Because I’m not lifting that trophy without you by my side. You’re part of the victory, Ivy.”

We get ready for the day together, moving through the small, intimate rituals of a shared morning. We brush our teeth side by side, stealing glances in the mirror and bumping hips as we move around the bathroom. We laugh softly at nothing, the lightness of the morning making everything feel new.

As we finally step out the door and head toward the elevator, he laces his fingers with mine, his grip firm.

“Ready?” he asks.

I squeeze his hand, looking at our joined shadows on the hallway floor.

“More than ever.”

As we walk toward the car, my phone buzzes.

9:12 AM

Jenna: Heard you’re building something.

Me: Thinking about it.

Jenna: You’ll change lives.

Me: I hope so.

Jenna: You will. You already changed ours.

I slide into the passenger seat, watching the city blur past as Callahan pulls onto the main road.

For the first time in my life, I feel it in every fiber of my being.

I am Iveline Talvi St. James.

I am a builder, a leader, and a woman who is finally loved for exactly who she is.

I am unstoppable.

And today, we have a game to win.

40

Cal

I stand at center ice during warm-ups, my stick tapping a steady, nervous rhythm against the frozen surface as I try to pull air into my lungs.

This is game four of the Stanley Cup Finals.