Page 44 of Her Coach

I grinned. “And the two lowest scores on each exercise will drill those exercises on the ice until our first game!”

The groans that ricocheted through the gym greased my gears. I could tell by the slightly flabby stomachs and the stench of a gym only used for a few minutes that they hadn’t had a coach ride them in a while. No wonder they hadn’t won a playoff series in three years. No one drilled them. Working on their strength. No one brought them together as a team.

Time to show the Titans exactly what they threw away.

“All right!” I said as I clapped my hands together. “Moose. That your max squat?”

He nodded as he wiped at the beads of sweat on his brow. “Yes, Coach.”

“Good,” I said with a nod as I walked over and plucked a clipboard hanging on the wall next to the gym door. I found Moose’s name and scribbled ‘425 lbs.’ down next to his name.

I lifted my eyes and looked at Jett. “Twiggy, you’re next.”

The boys howled as the string bean of a boy tossed me the cockiest grin I’d ever seen. He’d be a problem if I couldn’t get him to filter that energy of his into something productive. I watched as Moose and him worked together, racking and re-racking the weights.

Jett slipped himself beneath the 345 lb. bar and lifted it with way too much ease.

“Nope,” I said with a shake of my head. “Set it down. Stone,” I said, pointing to Rhett, “put five more pounds on either side.”

“On it, Coach,” he said.

Jett grinned at me. “Think I’ve got better?”

I just tossed him a look. “A man that doesn’t know his limits is a man unprepared.”

Five more pounds on either side, and he still threw up that bar like it was nothing. Guess twiggy had a bit more in him, after all.

“Five more,” I stated as I kept scribbling on my clipboard.

Until finally, Jett had to throw his whole body behind 375 lbs. I watched his legs work. I watched his arms white knuckle the bar. His determination as he locked his eyes with the wall in front of him seemed immobile, at best. He pressed the weight all the way up without locking his knees, and I put a star by his name.

He didn’t know his limits, but he had great form.

The guys could learn a thing or two from his form.

“All right,” I said as Jett placed the bar back down and hobbled away from it. “Stone, you’re next.”

Rhett beamed with pride and raked just shy of 400 lbs. onto the bar. And one by one, me and the team circled through the weights until I had their maximum on everything. Deadlifts. Bench presses. Squats. HIIT cycles. The works. I drilled them to their max until the gym smelled like nothing but sweat and regret.

I tucked the clipboard underneath my arm and jammed the pen behind my ear. “All right, boys. Hit the showers. Tomorrow is morning sprints, then we do an evening stint in the gym where we focus on core and stretching. Rest, eat well, and drink plenty of fluids. You pass out on me tomorrow, you don’t start.”

The boys were silent as I scanned the gym, huffing and puffing and chugging down water. I cleared my voice and made it boom.

“I saaaaaaaid, you pass out on me tomorrow, you little fuckers, you don’t start!”

“Yes, Coach!” the boys resounded heavily in unison.

I nodded. “Good. Now, go shower. You all stink.”

Their chuckles followed me out of the gym, and I made sure to get down the hallway before I cracked a grin myself and shook my head. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was damn near noon.

“Shit,” I hissed as I marched down the hallway toward Miss Caldwell’s office.

It didn’t shock me to find the door already cracked.

“Miss Caldwell?” I asked as I knocked softly on the door.

“Please, it’s Victoria,” she said from somewhere inside. “Come on in. I just got here.”