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p just as Jace rushes the net, tapping the ice. I sail it to him and he goes top shelf over Shane’s shoulder. It almost feels like it does when Jude and I are on the ice, and when Jace flashes me his little girlie grin, I can’t help but grin back as we high-five.
“We’re gonna murder this year!” he exclaims before stealing the puck I was about to play and rushing the goal again.
“Yeah, if I don’t kill you,” I say, but he isn’t listening to me.
“Hey yo, Jay,” Frayer says, coming up and stopping beside me.
I tap his shin as I nod my head to him. “What up, bro?”
“Nothing much, but did you see the new guy?”
Looking at where he is cocking his head, I see that, down the ice, a guy is playing by himself. Raising my brows in a perplexed way, I ask, “What the hell is he doing down there?”
“I have no clue, but I think he’s wearing lipstick.”
“What?” I ask incredulously because surely I heard him wrong, but when the guy turns the corner, I see that it does look like he’s wearing lipstick.
Bright red shit.
“What the fuck?”
“Right, maybe he’s a cross-dresser?”
I shrug. “I don’t care what he is as long as he can pass, shoot, block, and score. Might need to discuss the red lips though.”
“True that,” he says with a nod, and then he scoffs. “Either way, Moss comes out here and sees him down there by himself, we’re gonna get shit. If you don’t go welcome the poor idiot, I will.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I didn’t see him or I’d already have him down here. I got this.” Skating off, I turn, skating backward as I call back at him, “You know, ’cause this is a captain-type thing.”
Frayer laughs as he nods, but before I can turn to head toward the guy, a whistle is blown three times in a row.
Which means we hit the ice and jump back up.
Standing up, I look in the direction of the whistle to find Moss coming on the ice with a taller dude beside him. When he blows the whistle again, we all drop once more and get back up in record time. I’ve been doing this all summer, preparing myself for when Coach Moss wanted to release his evil whistle. When I first came to the team, I threw up four times during these drills.
It was great.
“Take a knee, boys,” he calls, and we skate toward him, dropping a knee. Jace comes up beside me and grins through his cage at me.
He’s as giddy as a virgin having sex for the first time.
Turning my attention back to Coach, he meets my gaze and nods at me. I nod back, and then I see the guy from earlier by the boards, looking down at his stick.
What the hell is he doing?
“All right, boys, no reason to beat around the bush: I’m done here,” Coach Moss says, and I have to hold in my laughter. Coach Moss is always to the point. “I got a job coaching the Wild, and since they pay way more than you street rats do and also, are better, I’ll see you guys later.”
We all know he’s joking around, but the guy standing by him looks a little taken aback until Coach starts to laugh, which means we get to laugh too. But when Coach Moss starts to talk again, we all clamp our mouths shut.
“No, really, I’m gonna miss it here. I’ve been a part of a great coaching staff, coached some of the greatest boys in the world, and even turned some of you into men. I’m proud to say I coached here and I’ll miss you guys, but I have to say, I’m leaving you in the best hands possible,” he says, turning to the guy beside him. He’s big, like my height big and I’m a big guy, but this dude makes me look small. He’s burly with big shoulders and huge arms, and when he smiles, he’s missing a few teeth.
Then I remember that Jude said he played for the Bruins, which makes a lot of sense once you look at him.
“Coach Moore is one of the winningest coaches, behind me, of course,” he says with a grin, and Coach Moore grins back. Aren’t they chummy?
“He has played for the Bruins, brought the Cup home. Has coached female and male Olympic teams for…nine years?”
“Yes, sir. Brought home the gold in seven of them,” he says, and a lot of the team is nodding. Hell, even I’m impressed by that.
