Take a Slapshot at Love Chapter One!

Myra

Greer Morgan is an absolute beast. She’s my best friend in the whole world, and when she played goaltender for the Denver Darlings it was great. But as the assistant coach, I kind of want to kill her. Maybe that’s an overstatement, but at the very least, I’d like to douse her with water and remind her that I do, in fact, remember how to play soccer.

“She’s just trying to figure out her coaching style. You know she’ll level out soon,” Stevie says, pushing her dark hair over her shoulder while we head toward the locker rooms after a grueling practice. She’s been playing monkey in the middle between my best friend and me, and she might be the only reason Greer still has a head.

I wipe sweat from my brow and dip into the locker room with her, ready to shower and leave this horrendous practice behind. The other ladies file in behind us, equally annoyed with our friend turned new coach. Greer heads to her office with a frown and a glance my direction. She pauses as if to speak, but doesn’t. Instead, she goes into the office and shuts the door. I can be just as sympathetic as the next person. She’s never coached before and it’s a new and awkward position when you’re trying to lead former teammates and friends. Still, it’s like my bestie forgot that we made it to the championships together.

Sighing, I toss my cleats into my locker. “I need to talk to her. She knows I’m mad at her, and I don’t want that.”

“Well, now seems like a good time,” Stevie says. “Want me to go play referee?”

I huff. “How are you not mad at her? She was just as mean to you today. She called you a poky potato head.”

Stevie laughs and peels her sweaty practice jersey off. “Honey, don’t forget I was almost a professional ballroom dancer before I got the full scholarship for soccer. I’m used to crazy women yelling orders at me.”

“Well, I’m not,” I pout, tugging on the elastic band holding my red hair in a ponytail. If I had known having Greer as an assistant coach would mean feeling like a child constantly in trouble, I would have told her to seek other employment. A stone of guilt presses against my stomach, reminding me that she was the reason we even made it to playoffs last year. And that her career was cut drastically short by a devastating injury that took her months to fully recover from. I’ve been a crummy friend, too.

Stevie raises her eyebrows, her dark eyes saying everything her lips don’t. She agrees with my silent assessment of myself. Greer and I have both been a little bratty, and we’re bigger than that. She and I need to work this out so our friendship doesn’t suffer. It’s new for both of us, but the more we fight it, the longer it will take to settle in.

“All right, I’ll talk to her after I shower,” I say, grabbing my bag of toiletries.

“Isn’t Turner picking you up? Don’t wanna make your boyfriend wait too long for you,” Stevie teases.

I roll my eyes. The woman knows he’s not my boyfriend.

“For the hundredth time, he’s just a friend. Ever since Greer and Evan got together, he’s everywhere we are. It was only natural for us to develop a friendship.” She’s ridiculous. And a little man crazy, if you ask me. If it has human male DNA, she’s flirting with it.

“Right, which is why he also picks me up every Friday practice for ice cream.” Stevie leads the way to the shower rooms, throwing a smirk over her shoulder like it’s her job.

“Oh, stop. We both have practice on Friday, and we live in neighboring apartment complexes. It’s purely a beneficial arrangement between friends.”

Stevie stares at me as if I have lost my mind entirely. “Myra, I am your roommate. Make that make sense.” She chuckles and dips into one of the changing rooms. “He takes you out for ice cream because he’s interested in you,” she shouts over the wall. “Not for carpooling purposes.”

I pull the curtain tighter and undress, ready to wash the mud and sweat off. Draping my clothes over the wall, I frown. Is she right? It isn’t the first time she and the others, including Greer, have teased me about my friendship with Kade Turner, one of the Denver Dragons hockey players. When my friend and his started dating and got married, we just clicked. I thought we had a solid friendship, but if Stevie is right…I shake my head, releasing the thought. No, Kade hasn’t shown any interest in me in that way. We get ice cream, complain about practice, he drops me off, and we go our separate ways until we undoubtedly end up seeing each other at Brokedown Tavern or one of the many other places where our teams hang out.

“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Stevie teases.

“Oh, hush. I’m trying to figure out what to say to Greer. Enough about Kade Turner already. We’re just friends, and I’m perfectly fine with that.” And I am, because the last thing I need right now is a man to worry about.

“Hey, do you have a date for the gala?” Stevie asks as I turn up the heat in the shower.

Oh, fudge pops. I forgot all about the gala our team owner planned for fundraising. We’re supposed to show up, smile pretty for the cameras, get people interested in donating money to a local food bank, and represent the Denver Darlings soccer team post championship win.

I groan because I know exactly what she’s going to say next. “No, I forgot to ask someone. I’ll figure it out.”

“You should ask Kade. If I’m right and he wants more than friendship, he’ll probably make a move then.” Stevie turns off the shower and fumbles around with a towel. For a former ballroom dancer, the woman has the balance of a toddler post-shower. Then again, Greer worked us to death and my legs are a little wobbly too.

“I don’t want him to make a move, Stevie. He’s my friend, and I like it that way.” It’s like a girl can’t have a guy friend without there being some sizzle between them. Well, it’s not like that between Kade and me, and I wish everyone would just let it go. “He’s like a brother, okay? Please stop. All of this pressure for it to be more will just ruin it.”

Stevie is quiet for a while, then I hear her sigh and say, “All right. But you still need to find a date for the gala. You’re cutting it close for a guy to prepare. It’s black tie only.”

My heart swoops. There is no one I want to go on a date with, and I’d just as soon avoid the gala altogether, but I have no choice. I’ll probably ask Kade anyway just so I don’t have to stress about putting on a good impression for a man. That definitely won’t stop the rumors, but at least I would be comfortable and have some fun.

I finish showering and dress, pull my hair into a bun, and head to Greer’s office. Stevie gives me a supportive thumbs up and heads out with a few of the other girls. Once Greer calls me in, I take a deep breath and head to face my best friend.

Greer lifts her head from her notebook and pauses when she sees me. I shut the door behind me and take another cleansing breath. We’ve been through a lot together, and there is no reason why I can’t talk to her like an adult.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes already filling with tears. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and Coach Ellis insists that I get all of this done every practice while she’s away. I can’t keep up with it, and I miss being in goal, my knee hurts when it rains, and everyone hates me.”

She drops her notebook on the desk and covers her face. Yep, this is Greer Morgan for you. She bottles it up and hides her feelings until they explode. It never occurred to me that since she and Evander Calloway have stopped going toe to toe, that she might shift her attacks elsewhere.

I round the desk and pull her into a hug. “Greer, we’re your friends. You can confide in us and we can help you. Yelling at us only makes it worse. Remember things between you and Evan?”

She sniffles and nods, pulling out of the hug so she can wipe her tears. “Yeah, he said the same thing. I’m still a work in progress I guess. It’s all a lot to manage.”

“I get that, but I’m here for you, okay?”

She nods again. “I really am sorry. I know I’m being a horrible coach and friend, but I want the best for the team and my girls.”

I laugh and nudge her. “Yeah, I know. You’ve always been cutthroat on the field. None of us thought that would change when you took the assistant coach position. We only need you to communicate better with us when you feel overwhelmed. We want the same things you do.”

Greer takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Wanna walk out with me? I’m sure Kade is waiting.”

“Ugh, not you too,” I say. “Stevie already gave me enough grief about him.”

Greer chuckles and stands, wiping the wrinkles from her coach’s uniform. “Um, I just meant that he is probably waiting and wondering what’s taking so long. You’re the one who read more into it.” Her lips purse to keep from grinning, but she’s not fooling me.

“Oh, stop it and come on.”

Greer grabs her things and I take a moment to reorient myself. I hadn’t expected crying, but it’s definitely better than an argument. She’s still recovering, dealing with the loss and grief, and if I keep reminding her that we care, maybe she can relax and we won’t want to bury her under the field.

In the parking lot, Kade is relaxed and leaning against his car.

“He is a good guy. I’m just saying, if you ever do develop feelings for him, you’ve got my support a thousand percent.”

I give Greer the best scolding side eye I can muster and she shrugs.

“Okay, okay. I won’t bring it up again, but you’re kind of a fool if you think he doesn’t have a thing for you. Be gentle with his heart if you don’t have feelings for him, okay?”

Oh. Wow.

I’d spent so much time thinking about how I don’t need or want a man in my life, that I didn’t take much time to consider what he might want or need. The thought goes down hard, so I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah. I will. Night, Greer.”

“Night, Myra. See you soon.” She reaches out and hugs me before splitting off to go to her car.

I try not to let what she said and how I feel about it show on my face, but it’s difficult. I have some things to think about, which terrifies me beyond belief. I don’t want to lose this incredible friendship I have with Kade, but if my friends are right and he does have feelings for me, I can’t risk hurting him. Whether I like it or not, this is a topic I can’t brush off any longer.