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I chuckled. "Relaxing's for the off-season."
Our drinks arrived, and we clinked glasses. I took a long swig, relishing the sharp taste. Hoss sipped his Coke, eyeing me carefully. "Look, Pete. We've both been in this game long enough to know it's not just about endless game plans. It's about chemistry, too. Not just among the players, but the coaches."
"I agree, so what's your point?" I took another sip.
"My point is, I'm ready to leave the past behind if you are. No more dancing around each other, and no more rehashing old feuds. Let's focus on what we've got right now—a solid team and a shot at something special."
I looked at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. Those eyes told me he meant it.
"You sure you're not just saying that to get me to pick up the tab?" I smirked, half joking.
Hoss laughed. "You're buying either way, remember?"
I sighed, putting my drink down. "Alright, you've got yourself a deal. No more past, just the present and whatever future we can carve out for this team."
He extended his hand, and as I shook it, I felt a weird jolt—a snap of electricity. Hoss seemed to feel it, too; his hand lingered in mine.
"So," I said, finally breaking the silence, "how about we look at some of these plays?"
"Let's do it. But first, why not some nachos? Nothing says strategic planning like melted cheese and jalapeños."
I grinned, flagging down the bartender. "Nachos it is, then."
As we delved into our discussion, we spread the papers out before us like a war map, and I realized Hoss was right. It wasn't only about game plans or drills; it was about the two of us finding a way to work together.
"Those nachos are good, aren't they?" Hoss interrupted my thoughts.
I looked up and caught his eye. "Yeah, they are. Almost as good as this team is gonna be."
The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. "I couldn't agree more."
The hours flew by as Hoss and I reviewed strategies over nachos and drinks. An undeniable energy passed between us. There were lingering stares, quick smiles, and hands brushing together as we reached for the same plans.
Underneath our coaching chemistry, new possibilities were taking shape. Still, we had a team to focus on first.
When disagreements emerged, we found a compromise.
"Walker should take more faceoffs," I said.
Hoss hesitated. "Nah, Jensen is our guy for now. Walker needs time."
We debated, but ultimately, we agreed to test them both. Another play revealed disagreement, but we conceded points and moved forward.
By the last call, we’d filled many pages with notes and diagrams. A sense of cautious optimism followed us as we walked out into the cool night air.
"That was good. Really productive," Hoss said, hands tucked into his pockets.
I nodded as I unlocked my truck, acutely aware of his presence. "No doubt, but it won't be easy. On the ice or...off."
He looked at me, understanding my implication. "Since when did we back down from a challenge?"
“Good point there. See you at practice, and Hoss—" I added as he turned to leave. "I'm glad we did this."
A smile formed on his lips. "Me too. This is just the beginning."
Chapter3
Hoss
