Page 139 of Scoring Lessons

As soon as my ass met the chair, I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

There was only one reason they had to call me into this meeting, and it was the exact one I’d been avoiding talking about with anyone.

Anthony’s eyes moved to Coach then to Kennedy as he cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we called you in so suddenly⁠—”

I didn’t let him finish. It was time to rip off the Band-Aid and face the music. “If this is about my time with the Strikers ending when the season does, Michael already told me.” I leaned forward, dropping my elbows on the table, and met Coach’s stare head-on. “I just want to say that my time with this team has been invaluable. You’re one of the best coaches I’ve ever worked for.” My eyes moved to Anthony. “The whole organization is just as amazing. You guys”—my throat tightened, the words scraping on the way out—“you’re my family.” My vision blurred. Hell. The last thing I wanted to do was cry. “I’m sad we couldn’t work something out. But I want you to know I understand.”

My jaw ticked. I looked around the room, taking in the Strikers’ blue that ran through everything in this building. The framed jerseys on the wall. The championship banners. The team photo from last season where Anderson had his arm thrown around my neck and we were both laughing at something I couldn’t remember.

What I did remember was the inexplicable happiness I felt knowing I’d won a championship with my childhood best friend. It had been a dream come true.

I swallowed.

“I just—” My voice came out rougher than I intended. “I wanted you to know it meant something. All of it.”

Kennedy’s smile went wide. She looked at Anthony, arched a brow, and nodded toward me like she’d just won an argument I wasn’t privy to.

Coach Sloane interlaced his hands and gave me a long, steady look. “That’s the thing, Hayes. We never wanted you to leave.”

My mouth went slack as I reared back in shock.

Had I heard him right?

“Your agent,” Anthony began, leaning back in his chair, “has made the contract negotiations extraordinarily difficult for everyone involved.” His tone was measured and tired, like he’d been over the situation a long time ago. “We put a substantial offer on the table early. A longer contract, a raise that reflected the value you bring to this team” He shook his head. “Michael rejected it. Came back with demands that, to be quite honest, I had never seen before. We couldn’t meet them.” He sighed and let out a small scoff. “When we tried to negotiate, he started making threats.”

My blood ran hot, and my ears rang as anger surged through me. “What kinds of threats?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“That you were demanding we permit you to entertain other conversations. That you were the one pushing these terms.”

“We tried everything to make it work, but he just kept rejecting everything,” Coach commented. “Then, the night you got ejected from the game, he sent an email that you’d decided to move forward with Vancouver.”

My stomach turned at what I was hearing. “I never wanted that,” I rushed out. “You have no idea the amount of work I’ve put in this season trying to prove that I wanted to stay. He⁠—”

“We know, Hayes,” Anthony murmured. “When we were getting ready to put out a statement about your departure because we knew the fans would have taken the news hard, Kennedy demanded we sat down with you and had a conversation first.”

“I insisted a lot.” Kennedy settled them with a glare. “I knew there was no way you wanted to leave Chicago, not after…” She let the words hang with a small shrug.

Olivia.

“You’re part of this family, Hayes.” Coach gave me what was his version of a smile. “To me, you’re one of the best rounded players we got. I don’t fight like hell to keep players unless I fucking mean it.”

“And we’re ready to give you the contract right now. Take it home. Read it over. Think about it.”

I shook my head. “I have nothing to think about. I want to stay,” I said, my chest pulling tight with excitement. “But before we finalize everything…” I reached for my phone and dialed my agent.

He picked up in the first ring. “I’m glad you called, buddy,” he drawled. “You haven’t⁠—”

I interrupted him. “Hey, Michael?”

“Yes?”

“You’re fired.”

I hung up before he could get a word in.

When I looked up, Kennedy gave me an approving nod, while Anthony’s mouth went slack. And Coach, well…he was impassive. It was hard to read him.

“Let’s see that contract,” I said.