Game plan, p.1
Game Plan, page 1
Copyright © 2023 by Amy Aislin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by Brenda Chin. Copyedited by Boho Edits. Second pass copyedit by Edie’s Edits. Cover art by Cate Ashwood Designs.
ALSO BY AMY AISLIN
Stick Side series
On the Ice*
The Nature of the Game*
Shots on Goal
Risking the Shot
Two-Man Team
Star of the Game
Stick Side Series Adult Coloring Book, Vol. 1
Vancouver Orcas Trilogy
Game Plan*
Game Changer (July 2023)
Game On (fall/winter 2023)
Lighthouse Bay Trilogy
Christmas Lane
Gingerbread Mistletoe
Sweet to the Core
Keeping Him series
Keeping Casey*
Keeping Kellan*
Windsor, Wyoming series
Home for a Cowboy
Lakeshore series
The Heights
Other Books
Elias
Ballerina Dad
Chasing Sunsets*
As Big as the Sky
The Play of His Life
One Winter with You
A Gift-Wrapped Holiday*
*also available on audio
ABOUT GAME PLAN
As the new head coach of the Vancouver Orcas, Matt Shore has got his work cut out for him. Coming off a season where the Orcas came in last in the entire AHL, Matt’s job is to whip his new hockey team into shape for the oncoming season.
He doesn’t need any distractions, especially not one in the form of a tall, dark, and gorgeous antiques dealer.
Who’s also his ex—and his best player’s father.
Pierce Langley-Brown has a lot of regrets. The biggest? Leaving Matt behind two years ago when his son needed him. Now, with his son on Matt’s hockey team, there’s no avoiding the man who once owned his heart.
Not that Pierce wants to avoid him. And that heart? It still belongs to Matt.
But will Matt choose to keep it after all this time?
CONTENTS
Content warning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Amy Aislin
CONTENT WARNING
Parental death—occurred off-page and in the past, but is discussed on-page.
Mental health and depression.
Please take care of yourselves if this is triggering or upsetting for you.
CHAPTER ONE
As the new head coach of the Vancouver Orcas—a team that had come in dead last in the entire AHL last season—Matt Shore should’ve been reviewing the player roaster with his fellow coaches, determining who needed extra skills training, who would benefit from an attitude adjustment, and who had an injury that needed babying before the regular season started in a few days.
His job was to win. If a coach’s team didn’t win games, the coach got fired. It was as simple as that. Hockey was a business, just like anything else.
And if Matt wanted to coach an NHL team—he’d been passed over for a coveted position just a few months ago and had gone to the Orcas instead—he needed to prove he had the chops for it. Which meant he should’ve been poring over his roster and reworking his lines.
Instead, he was sitting in one of Vancouver, British Columbia’s few 24/7 cafés in the Riley Park–Little Mountain neighbourhood.
Getting dumped.
And he’d known he was about to get dumped too, whether from experience or a sixth sense, or maybe because Tyler’s responses to his texts had taken longer and longer to arrive in the last week. He could’ve pre-empted this and done the dumping himself over text, but he hadn’t, because, first—he’d been dumped by text before, and it was as soul crushing as it sounded. And second—he’d never been one to avoid confrontation.
Eyeing Tyler’s sheepish expression, Matt nursed his tea, having opted for herbal since anything caffeinated at this time of day would keep him up until the hour before his alarm went off.
If this went anything like the last two times Matt had been dumped, Tyler would start with stuttered positivity.
“So, uh . . . This has been a lot of, uh, fun. Right? You and me? The past few weeks?”
Matt: 1.
“It has,” Matt said, his to-go cup warm between his hands.
The second step was the lead-in to the dumping.
“Right.” Tyler’s smile was relieved, slightly goofy. He was cute in a toddler-learning-to-walk kind of way, which wasn’t at all Matt’s type, but when Tyler had messaged him via the dating app Matt had installed on his phone a year ago, he’d figured, why not? And it had been fun. While the sex had been kind of meh, they’d always had a good time hanging out.
“The thing is, uh . . . I really like you, but I jumped into the dating thing a little too quickly after my last breakup.”
Matt: 2.
The third step was the reason for the dumping, and judging by the last two times Matt had been dumped, that reason was . . .
“My ex and I are getting back together.”
Bingo.
Matt: 3.
Being right normally felt fucking awesome, and though there was a touch of satisfaction coursing through him, mostly he felt . . . tired.
“I’m really sorry,” Tyler continued, reaching out to squeeze one of Matt’s hands. He sounded sorry too, though he hadn’t lost that goofy smile, which made sense if he’d reunited with the ex Matt had suspected he hadn’t been quite over.
“I understand.” Matt forced a smile past the exhaustion. “I’m happy you two found each other again.”
“It . . .” Cupping his own cup, Tyler sighed. “It might not work out this time either, but we’re both willing to try. I don’t usually give second chances, but maybe this time it’ll be worth it.”
Matt had once had the same mentality until a coach had seen fit to give him a second chance. Cocky and desperate to prove himself, Matt had let expectations and nerves get the better of him at training camp the year he’d been drafted, damn, two decades ago now . . . and his performance had been for shit. He’d been sent down to Minnesota’s affiliated AHL team, where the skills coach must’ve seen something in him, because he’d worked with him all season—on his skills and his nerves—giving Matt a second chance to make the NHL roster the following season, where he’d stayed for the next several years.
His nerves? These days, they were made of fucking steel.
Expectations? Still breathing down his neck, but he’d learned to use them as fuel.
“Anyway.” To-go cup in hand, Tyler stood. “We can still be friends, right?”
“Sure,” Matt said, reading the brush-off for what it was, knowing he’d never hear from Tyler again. “Take care, Tyler.”
And that was that. Dumped for an ex for the third time in six months.
He grabbed his cup and headed out into the early evening. The second week of October in Vancouver was seeing unseasonably warm temperatures and sunny days, though with the sunset came a dip in temperature. After finishing off his tea, he tossed the cup into a nearby trash bin, zipped up his leather jacket, left his car parked on the street in front of the café, and walked north.
Ten minutes later, he arrived at the pub where he met his cousins for dinner every Tuesday. Given the day of the week, the place was virtually empty, and Matt easily spotted one of his cousins at a patio table, next to an outdoor heater.
“Hey, Charlie.”
Charlie glanced up from his phone, then did a comical double take. “Hey. I thought we weren’t expecting you tonight. Didn’t you have a date?”
Matt sat with a grimace. “I thought some family time was in order after getting dumped.”
Charlie’s jaw dropped. At twenty-nine, he was almost a full decade younger than Matt’s thirty-eight. They had the same dark blond hair as their fathers, but Charlie had a low-fuss cut with bangs hanging over his forehead, while Matt’s was shaved on both sides and longer on top. In fact, it was so long that if he didn’t slick it back, it came down to his chin. Their hair colour was about where their similarities ended. Charlie was short, slim, and clean-shaven, and Matt was six-feet-two, athletically built, and had three inches of beard growth.
“I’m sorry,” Charlie said. “What happened this time?”
“He went back to his ex.”
“Again? What’s this? The third?”
“Yup. Apparently, I’m wearing a sign that reads Rebound Robin.” Taking his phone out of his pocket, Matt deleted the dating app.
Charlie squawked. “What are you doing? Y
“I’m not giving up on love. Just dating apps. Maybe dating. At least for a little while. Things are about to hit light speed with the team anyway, with the regular season starting on Friday. I need to focus on that.”
Gently, oh-so-gently, Charlie asked, “It has nothing to do with Pierce?”
A pang hit Matt in the sternum, sharply barbed and stealing his breath for a moment. He glanced away from Charlie’s penetrating gaze. “It’s been two years since Pierce.”
“Not that long in the grand scheme of things. It’s okay if you’re not ready to move on yet.”
“I’ve been dating, haven’t I?”
“Is it possible you’ve been dating guys you know aren’t emotionally available?”
Matt opened his mouth to refute. Closed it.
Had he subconsciously been dating guys he knew wouldn’t make a long-term commitment?
“Maybe,” he conceded.
He should’ve been ready to move on. Two years was enough time to get over the guy who’d broken his heart. And sure, it had been messy at the end, but the rest of their year and a half together had been great.
Well, not all great. Pierce’s wife had been taking him for everything he was worth in the divorce, and he’d been estranged from the son who, at the time, was playing in the major juniors in Quebec. So estranged, that in their year and a half together, Matt had never met the teen. Only seen photos of Jason aged newborn to early teens on the walls of Pierce’s apartment.
Despite the turmoil in the rest of Pierce’s life, they’d clicked instantly. Pierce had understood him in a way no one had before or since, teasing smiles out of the admittedly too-serious Matt. They’d even been talking about finding a place together, maybe adopting a dog.
But then things had imploded, and now Matt’s positive memories were often overshadowed by ugly flashbacks from their breakup. Like Pierce packing up the few belongings Matt had kept at his place—clothes, books, toiletries, boxes of herbal tea—while Pierce quietly ended things.
“I’m moving to Quebec,” Pierce had explained, shoving a box of Matt’s clothes at him without meeting his gaze. His movements had been stiff, and he’d been pale and wide-eyed, breathing as though every inhale hurt.
“You’re what?”
“It’s where Jason is, so it’s where I need to be.”
“Okay,” Matt had said slowly, more confused than upset. Just last week they’d been debating between Pierce moving in with him or Matt selling his house so they could get a place that belonged to both of them. What had changed? “But what about your store?”
What about us?
“I’ll figure something out.”
Still, Matt hadn’t believed Pierce, despite the open suitcase on the bed. Pierce had often spoken about how rough it was living so far away from his estranged son, but he’d never brought up moving.
Matt had set the box aside and cupped Pierce’s shoulders when Pierce had slowed down enough from his frantic packing to take a breath. “When do you leave? Do you need a lift to the airport?”
“No.” Pierce had jerked away and shoved another box Matt’s way. “I think it’s best if we make a clean break.”
“From . . . each other?”
“Let’s face it, Matt, a long-distance relationship would never work between us. You’re a skills coach for the NHL—you travel for eight months of the year. I’d only see you during the off-season.”
Pierce only spoke the truth, but still Matt hadn’t panicked. Something had been wrong; he’d known it deep in his gut. Because this Pierce whose skin had been clammy and who hadn’t been able to look at him? There’d been something that had screamed of desperation in his jerky movements and rushed packing, and in the way his eyes hadn’t seemed to land on any one thing for longer than a second.
“Hey,” Matt had said quietly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Pierce had frozen where he stood. Closing his eyes, he’d sucked in a long breath. When he’d opened his eyes again, he’d stared right at Matt and whispered, “Just go. Please.”
Matt hadn’t wanted to. Hadn’t wanted to leave Pierce alone, his instincts screaming at him to stay. But when Pierce asked so desperately, what else could Matt do? Maybe Pierce needed time alone to sort through whatever was bothering him. So he’d kissed Pierce’s damp forehead, ignoring his own desire to cling to him, told him he’d be back tomorrow, and left.
Except, when Matt had dropped by the following morning, Pierce had already been gone. A conversation with the landlord had revealed that Pierce was still paying rent, but not much else.
The server came over to their table, jolting Matt out of the past. He absentmindedly ordered a beer, rubbing a hand over the phantom ache in his chest. The problem was, he understood where Pierce had been coming from. He didn’t want to. God, he wished he could’ve stayed angry with Pierce, but he got it. For the eighteen months they’d been together, Pierce had tried to reconcile with his son, but Jason had rebuffed him every time.
Had he thought physical proximity would get him better results? Maybe. Matt had tried to ask him about it, but for weeks after Pierce left, Matt’s calls had gone unanswered until he’d eventually stopped trying.
Shortly after, Matt had been driving by Pierce’s antique store and had found it closed, a For Sale sign in the window.
Matt’s stomach curled into knots, cramping uncomfortably as he remembered quickly double parking before jogging across the street to stand outside Pierce’s store in the rain, feeling like the sunshine in his world had been stripped away to darkness. That was when he’d called Sabrina, Pierce’s sister, because the worry gnawing at him wouldn’t let him breathe. But all she could tell him was that Pierce was in Laval. She didn’t know much else because Pierce had barely spoken to her since the move.
He'd given up, then. If he’d been in a romance movie, he would’ve flown to Pierce and performed some big romantic gesture to get him back.
But real life was much more complicated. And Matt had no desire to keep fighting for someone who was clearly done with him. Pierce was in Laval and making amends with Jason? Great. Time for Matt to move on.
Matt didn’t like to think it, but what if there was something fundamentally wrong with him? What if he wasn’t long-term material? Maybe the real reason Pierce had left the province was because he’d recognized that Matt wasn’t worthy as a life partner. And maybe those guys who’d dumped him to go back to their exes had been dating him because they’d thought his “use by” date was good only for a few weeks.
Maybe he was meant to be alone. When he voiced that to Charlie, his cousin’s eyes went sad. “You don’t really believe that.”
“I do believe that some people are meant to be alone, whether by choice or because they haven’t found their person or persons.”
“I don’t think that’s you.” Charlie sat back in his chair and gestured at Matt with his beer glass. “You’re a long-term kind of guy. Ten years playing professional hockey, two years coaching college hockey, and another eight as a skills coach before you became head coach. You scream permanency. I know you said you’re taking a break from dating, but Dorian might know someone he can set you up with.”
Matt let out a small laugh. “Fuck, no. The last person he set me up with stood me up.” Speaking of their wayward cousin . . . “Where is he, anyway?”
“Late, as always,” Charlie grumbled. “Next time, I’m telling him six thirty. That way he might arrive by seven.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
Just like deleting the dating app was a good idea. Just like taking a temporary moratorium from dating itself was a good idea.
