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Johnson, always a prankster on the team, eased back in his chair, scrutinizing me. "So, Hoss, you ever gonna quit clowning around and adopt Coach Z's stone face? Or is that a forbidden chapter in the coaching guide?"
The guys erupted in laughter, and I had to join in. "Come on, if I start going all serious, you guys will think aliens abducted the real Hoss.”
Waller chipped in, "No worries. Your goofball grins are great in practice or reserved for special occasions—like Coach Z choosing to stick with us here in Cold Pines."
More laughter erupted, and I looked at Pete. He was contentedly finishing off a wing, apparently amused by the shift of the group's playful teasing away from him and toward me.
Eddie, sitting next to me, threw in his opinion. "It's a balance, right? One coach is serious, and the other cracks us up sometimes. Keeps us on our toes."
“Clowning?” Pete grinned. “I didn’t notice any red noses in the office desk drawers. I checked.”
Jensen piped up. "Ah, but remember when Hoss used smiley faces on the whiteboard during a play explanation?"
"Ah yes, the infamous smiley face debacle," I reminisced. "In my defense, it got your attention. You're still talking about it."
"Because nightmares tend to stick," Jensen added.
Pete finally spoke, his voice tinged with amusement. "To be fair, I also had to decipher the smiley hieroglyphics."
I chuckled. "You guys aren't going to let that go, are you?"
"Not a chance," they chorused, setting off another ripple of laughter.
Pete leaned closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "For the record, I find your lighthearted approach quite charming."
Goosebumps rose on my forearms. Charming? Pete thought I was charming? Waller stood, raising his glass again before I got lost in that thought.
"To coaches with different styles but one unified goal—winning. And to a team that's more like family than anything else."
Glasses clinked, and in that moment, everything felt perfect. How I’d managed to land on my feet in an enchanted place like Cold Pines, I didn’t want to guess.
I looked at Pete, and I knew I had a ridiculous grin on my face. Sure, winning games was excellent and important, but sitting there, I felt like I'd already claimed the grand prize.
Waller cleared his throat. "Now, for the night's highlight, a moment we've all been waiting for..."
Dessert made its entrance, all flash and dazzle with sparklers. It was a sheet cake decked out with a big round cougar’s head, matching the one I wore when Pete arrived in Cold Pines.
Laughter spread around the table as about half the guys pointed at the cougar head. Pete's face lit up like it was Christmas morning, and he was five years old. My chest constricted; there was no denying it anymore. I was head over heels for him. It was a kind of connection I’d never felt before.
He must've sensed my stare because he turned and looked directly at me. I held his gaze, and for a heart-stopping moment, it felt like we were the only two people in that noisy restaurant. The tension between us was electric, intimate, and somewhat terrifying.
As people started discussing the after-party—a bar downtown—Pete leaned in, "You up for round two?"
I knew he was talking about the bar, but we’d had another kind of round one the night before. I felt my heart hammer against my ribs. "I'm up for anything as long as you're there," I said, the words hanging in the air like a loaded promise.
We left the restaurant, and the night air hit us like a cold slap in the face. Pete stopped, looked at me, and smiled. I couldn't tell what he was searching for, but whatever it was, he seemed to find it. His smile lit up the entire night.
The party continued down the street at Lou’s. The worn wooden sign above the door had seen better days, but it was as welcoming as ever.
"Ah, the epicenter of Cold Pines nightlife," Eddie announced as we stepped inside.
The bar was a mix of wood and worn-out upholstery, where the local crowd mingled with the occasional tourist. We shoved four tables together so the entire team could gather around.
Waller quickly ordered a round of drinks for the table, respecting my decision to avoid alcohol.
Laughter rippled through our group. Pete leaned close enough that I felt his breath on my ear. “They’re big on this idea of me as a stoic, aren’t they?”
“I find it kind of sexy,” I whispered.
