Break My Heart: An Enemies-to-Lovers Coach’s Daughter Sports Romance (Western Wildcats Hockey)
Break My Heart: Chapter 8

The bar is packed, loud, and buzzing with energy as we walk into Slap Shotz. The vibe is electric with people still riding high from our win tonight. We fought hard, making sure every play counted. The thought of not making it to the playoffs had all of us on edge. It’s starting to hit me that every game could be the last one we have as a team.

A unit.

I scan the dark room, searching the sea of faces. It takes a moment to realize I’m looking for someone specific.

Someone petite and pixieish, who reminds me of a prickly little Tinkerbell.

My feet stutter to a stop.

What the hell am I doing?

I’ve never fixated on a girl like this before. Usually, they’re all interchangeable. A pretty face and a body to warm my bed for a couple hours. That’s all it’s ever been. But the blonde figure skater has wormed her way into my head and refuses to be evicted.

I don’t like it.

I don’t like the way she knocks me off balance.

Especially when I know she’ll cut me to ribbons with her sharp tongue if I step too close.

Not only that, but she’s also Coach’s daughter.

His only daughter.

The fastest way to get benched would be to screw around with Ava.

Besides, she’s made it clear that she’s not interested.

If I were smart, I’d let it go.

And yet… I can’t stop thinking about her.

I try to shake off the strange sensations that have taken root inside me, but they refuse to be dismissed.

There are plenty of girls here tonight to lose myself in.

What I need to replace is someone uncomplicated.

I glance around, the flashing lights and dark corners of the bar offering more than enough options.

All I need to do is smile, and the groupies will be lining up, vying to spend a little time with me.

Even as I tell myself that, deep down, I know it’s not what I want.

I’m not looking for a tall brunette or a fiery redhead. I’m not interested in anyone else except a snarky blonde with sharp blue eyes.

And an even sharper tongue.

And that’s a problem.

I release an irritated breath and spot my teammates already heading toward our usual table in the back that’s reserved just for us.

“Shut the fuck up before I do it for you,” Bridger snaps, his voice strung tight.

Even though Garret smirks, a mean look flashes in his eyes. “I’m just asking a question, man.”

“Well, don’t.”

“When you can’t make a clean pass, it becomes my business,” Garret shoots back. “That last goal? It was totally on you.”

Bridger swings toward him with his hands clenched at his sides. Only a couple of inches separate them. I’ve never known Bridger to have a short fuse, but the pressure inside him has been building over the last couple months. He’s become a ticking time bomb. Garret’s an idiot for pushing him. The last thing we need is a full-on brawl in the middle of Slap Shotz. It’s one thing to get into it with your opponents and quite another to start with your own teammates.

I slip between them, shoving Garret back a few paces. “Hey, we won tonight. Let’s not start shit here.” Garret’s eyes flash with irritation as my hand presses against his chest to keep him at a distance. “You’re being a dick.”

He scowls as tension crackles in the air between us. “You’re always taking his side, huh, Van Doren?”

I meet his glare head-on before lifting my chin. “That’s right.”

Garret looks like he might say something else until Wolf steps beside me, his menacing presence enough to shut anyone down. With his tats and shaved head, Wolf’s not someone you want to mess with. Garret’s face pales, and he mutters something under his breath before stalking off in the opposite direction.

Wolf raises an eyebrow. “What’s his deal?”

I shake my head. “Same as always. Just being an asshole.”

We settle at the table, and the moment my butt hits the chair, a curvy girl drops onto my lap. She beams, flashing perfect white teeth. Her hands slip around my neck as she leans in, pressing her breasts against my chest.

“Hayes,” she purrs, running her fingers through my hair. “You were amazing tonight.”

I offer up a smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

She’s pretty. The kind of girl I’d usually go for without a second thought. And yet… all I can think about is how she’s not Ava.

My brow furrows at the thoughts that have taken up residence in my brain.

“Wanna get out of here?” Her lips brush against my skin as she whispers the question.

Normally, that’s all it would take, and I’d already be out the door with her on my arm.

Instead of feeling the usual rush of excitement, there’s nothing.

No spark, no heat.

My mind drifts back to the other morning at the rink and the way Ava’s eyes narrowed when she caught sight of me watching her. The most hilarious part was her feeble attempt at ignoring me. When that didn’t work, she skated closer to verbally spar.

Does she feel the same pull I do?

It’s the million-dollar question that begs for an answer.

The girl on my lap nips at my neck, her fingers curling into my hair. “So, what’s it going to be? Come back to my place?”

I stare into her whiskey-colored eyes, trying to drum up a little bit of interest. But all I see is Ava. Her blonde hair, those piercing blue eyes, the way she gets under my skin without even trying.

Fuck.

With a groan, I drag my hand down my face, surprising even myself when I gently lift the girl off my lap. “Sorry, sweetheart. That game really took it out of me.”

Her face scrunches. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah.” I rise to my feet. “Alone.”

Her lips part in surprise. “Alone?”

I nod, feeling like I’ve been dropped into some weird alternate reality.

This isn’t me.

I don’t walk away from girls like her.

But tonight?

Something’s off.

And I know exactly what it is.

I force a small smile. “I’ll see you around.”

Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk out of the bar until the noise and chaos fade behind me. My thoughts are all tangled up in the one girl I can’t seem to forget.

The one who wants nothing to do with me.