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Apparently, I was shit at getting my point across with my tone of voice and words.

“Listen, as a dad to a little girl, I want nothin’ more than to see women kick ass at everything.” My chest tightened, the same way it did every time I thought about the shit Goldie would deal with that I never had to as a man. “You forget, I hired the first female Strength and Conditioning Coach, and it was because your cousin was fucking good at her job. Gender had nothin’ to do with it. Hockey is for everyone, regardless of background.”

I stepped back, realizing how close we’d drifted.

How my hands wanted to reach for hers.

The corner of her mouth twitched. “You’re a good man, you know that, Monroe?”

I shrugged, like I was unaffected by the affection in her words, but they’d zapped straight to my chest, making it puff out with pride.

I needed to get out of this hallway with her before I showed her how much they affected me.

“Let’s go give those ladies the time and resources they deserve.”

THIRTEEN

GRACIELLA

“HE’S A GOOD MAN, SAVANNAH.”

The chill of the rink cut through the thin cotton top I had on. More than once, I’d been tempted to go ransack Monroe’s office for a sweatshirt, but that would’ve meant leaving him unsupervised.

Which, to my surprise, might not have been so bad.

The young women had hung on his every word for the last forty-five minutes. He took every question, refusing to let any player go unanswered.

A pair of blue eyes swiveled my way for a third time, and I shot him a thumbs-up. There went that teensy-tiny twitch at the edge of his mouth.

I realized this was where he was most comfortable—coaching.

All the research I’d done into him, one thing was abundantly clear. His players loved him. He was firm, but seemed to always do what was best for them. That was the Josh Monroe the media needed to see.

“Ms. Barrera!” One of the reporters I’d invited appeared on my other side, hand extended for a shake. “Dana Santos, with ESPN, thank you for the heads-up about this event. It’s amazing to see the Stars pouring into the community like this. Especially women’s sports,” she said, a sparkle in her eye as she watched Monroe draw out what I imagined was a play on the giant whiteboard he’d retrieved about twenty minutes into the meet and greet.

I’d vetted all the reporters before inviting them. She’d covered women’s Olympics several years before, and now ESPN had her covering all the women’s college hockey games.

I shrugged a shoulder. “Call it a hunch that I thought you’d be interested,” I said, smiling at her. “But really, Coach Monroe is the one to thank for this.” I nodded his way, a sincere smile on my face as he clapped his hands together, pointing at the player who’d clearly gotten something right.

“Really?” Her surprised tone didn’t shock me. “Clearly I knew he was a good coach given his record, but I didn’t realize he was so…”

“Likable,” I supplied.

She nodded, still studying him like she was seeing him for the first time. “Yeah, likable.”

Pride for him notched in my chest, rooting itself there.

“You said to come to you for quotes,” she said, attention back to me. “I can see why now. He’s not stopping until those ladies are through with questions.”

I let out a little laugh, hoping my face didn’t give away the truth: I told them to come to me for quotes because I was afraid Monroe’s would be shit.

“Why was it he decided to host this?” she asked, pen at the ready.

“Because hockey is for everyone.” It wasn’t my words I gave her, but his. “Regardless of background. These ladies are serious athletes, and they deserve all the time and resources. They deserve positive attention.”

And, I was thinking, so did he.

FOURTEEN