Match Penalty: Coach’s Daughter Hockey Romance (The Rookie Hawkeyes Series Book 1)

The rain drums softly against Serendipity’s front window, but inside, the café hums with warmth and familiarity. The smell of cinnamon rolls and freshly brewed espresso drifts through the air, and our usual corner table is just as crowded with breakfast plates as it is with opinions.

“Everett is impossible!” Aria groans, dropping her head onto her arms. Her dark auburn hair falls forward like a curtain. “For the third time this week, he made it clear he doesn’t need two assistants. I’m just excess baggage leftover from Phil Carlton’s reign.”

“You’re not baggage,” Kendall says firmly, her coffee cup hovering just below her lips. “You’re probably the only thing keeping his life together, and he’ll figure that out soon enough.”

“Maybe once the stress of the transition settles,” Penelope adds with a small smile, though the sharpness in her voice makes it clear she’s making a mental note to step in if Everett doesn’t shape up soon. “You’re too good at what you do for him not to notice.”

Aria sighs but offers a faint smile. “Thanks. I just hate feeling like I’m waiting for the axe to drop,” then she turns to me. “Any chance you need help with the auction planning? I could use a distraction.”

I nudge her arm with my elbow lovingly. “No offense, but I think you’ve got enough on your plate without adding auction planning to it. You’re always taking on too much. I’ve got it under control.”

Penelope’s gaze sharpens as she sets her cup down. “Speaking of juggling, how’s the auction coming along? Everett’s already asking about donor lists. Oh, and maybe take JP up on his offer to help. He seemed… eager.”

The name hits like a slap, but I force my expression to stay neutral. “It’s fine. I’m keeping it professional.”

“JP?” Kendall perks up, her brows shooting skyward. “Jon Paul Dumont? Our new goalie?”

Penelope smirks knowingly. “The one who couldn’t stop staring at Cammy when he came by for his apartment key.”

Heat rises to my face. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Kendall asks, leaning forward.

I swirl my coffee cup, trying to distract myself from the women staring at me. “It’s a long story, and it’s not worth telling, I promise.”

‘We’ve got time. My first appointment this morning is with Aleksi, but not until after morning skate, so I’m wide open,’ Kendall gleams, settling back into her chair, clutching her hot black coffee.

‘And wine later if needed,’ Aria adds, momentarily distracted from her own drama.

I sigh, knowing they won’t let it go. “Remember how I went to San Diego for the last playoff game before the championship two seasons ago?”

They nod.

“Well… I might’ve run into JP after the game. And I might’ve ended up at Cooper’s afterparty. We spent most of the night talking about family stuff and eating Chinese food…” I start, debating whether to spill the rest of the embarrassing story.

“Oh this is getting good,” Kendall says, leaning forward.

‘That sounds like one hell of a party. Are you sure there isn’t more you want to share with the group? Safe space and all.’ Penelope says, bringing her cup up to her lips.

Why fight it… they’ll get it out of me eventually.

“Then I woke up alone a few hours later, with headlines hitting my phone that he was arrested on a DUI charge, and the woman he was taking home went to the hospital. The woman he must like enough to keep around because she’s his sports agent now. So, yeah, that’s the end of that story.”

A beat of silence falls over the table before Kendall blinks a couple of times and then finally says, “Damn.”

“Yeah.” I agree.

“But that was a year and a half ago. Do you think he’s changed?” Penelope asks.

I cut a piece off my sticky bun with my fork but don’t eat it right away. I glance at Kendall to answer this one… because she has firsthand experience. ”I don’t know… do players ever change?” I ask her, already knowing her answer.

Kendall’s lips purse as her eyebrows raise. “Not in my experience.”

Then I turn back to Penelope. “I doubt it. But if he has changed, I wish him all the best… with anyone other than me.”

Penelope shakes her head. ‘It just seems so hard to believe he’d do that. The tension between you two has been building since you started interning here. He’s been trying to get your attention for years. Everyone saw it at those league events.’

I shake my head, remembering the sting of waking up alone. That’s an experience I only need to try once to know that I’ll never put myself in that position again. ‘Maybe he was after the chase—or maybe he was just trying to get under my dad’s skin. I don’t know, but I do know that whatever he wanted, he got, and then moved on pretty damn quickly. I’ve been used as a pawn before by my own mother. Whatever game JP wants to play this time… I’m sure he can find a willing opponent within his many female fans.’

Thinking of my mother sends a familiar ache through my chest. Fourteen years of believing Eli was my father, only to learn my mother had lied to trap him—and to hurt Seven in the process. Even now, four years after telling Seven the truth and building our relationship from nothing, it still feels raw.

‘Look,’ Penelope says, her GM voice slipping through, ‘I’m not saying trust JP blindly. But maybe give him a chance to explain? People aren’t always what they seem at first glance.’

‘Like Slade?’ Aria pipes up, managing a smirk.

We’ve all heard their love story, and honestly, after everything that happened between them, I’m surprised that she was able to forgive him. But I also can’t imagine Penelope and Slade not being together. They’re completely in love.

‘Exactly.’ Penelope grins. ‘Though the jury’s still out on that one,’ she teases.

We all laugh, and I’m grateful for the subject change. But as the conversation shifts to safer topics—Kendall’s new condo she just bought, Penelope and Slade’s babymoon vacation they’re planning for the end of the season—I can’t stop thinking about what Penelope said about JP changing.

With all my trust issues and family drama, it’s hard for me to give people second chances. Changing that view means risking my heart again, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

Not even for the guy who still makes my pulse race every time he struts in with that air of confidence and bright smile.

‘I hate to run, but I’d better get back so I can hit the treadmill in the stadium gym before the guys take over after practice.’

Next Aria stands. ‘Yeah, and I need to get back and make myself irreplaceable to the new boss so that I can keep my job,’ she says, rolling her eyes.

‘It’s all going to work out. You’ll see,’ I tell her.

Penelope pushes back her chair next. ‘Cammy and I will walk back with you girls. Brynn’s meeting us at the Stadium. We’re headed to morning skate this morning,’ she tells me with a wink.

That’s definitely a change to our schedule, and I have to wonder exactly what she has up her sleeve.

The rain has eased by the time we step into the stadium, but the chill lingers in the air. Brynn lifts Milo from his stroller, wrapping him in a blue dinosaur blanket as we head toward our usual seats behind the home bench.

“How do you think JP’s doing so far?” Penelope asks, her heels clicking against the concrete steps as we ascend.

‘I’m not sure yet. This is the first time I’m seeing him practice with the team.’ I say.

Brynn glances at me, then back at Penelope. “Well, if Seven’s working with him, he’s doing fine. Your dad doesn’t put in this kind of effort for nothing. They’ve been meeting early—before practice.”

I absorb the information, keeping my focus on the rink.

Sitting in the cold seats of the Hawkeyes stadium, I stare out at the ice as players in turquoise, white, and black jerseys run shooting drills for morning skate. My dad stands at the boards, his signature stance as commanding as ever. But my attention drifts to the far end of the rink, where JP is in the crease. He’s dialed in, his movements sharp and precise, though I can tell from the tension in his shoulders that Seven’s been pushing him hard.

“How are you doing there, champ?” I ask while bouncing Milo on my knee, wrapping his tiny frame in the blanket that Brynn made for him. Milo gurgles and points toward the ice, where our dad stands with his arms crossed, watching practice with his signature intensity.

The empty arena feels so much bigger without the fans who’ll pack it in just a couple of weeks once training ends. Right now, it’s just me, Penelope, and Brynn sitting in our usual seats behind the home bench. I try to focus on Milo’s warmth instead of the figure gliding between the pipes at the far end of the rink.

But my eyes betray me, drawn to JP despite my better judgment.

He moves through his warm-up routine with the same fluid grace that made him the NHL’s hottest college rookie prospect five years ago, at the age of twenty-two. Each stretch, each adjustment of his pads, each tap of his stick against the posts—it’s muscle memory honed to perfection. Watching him settle into position stirs the kind of discomfort I’d prefer to avoid.

“How’s it going with the new owner?” Brynn asks Penelope, passing me a Ziploc bag of goldfish crackers for Milo.

Penelope exhales, her gaze flicking toward the owner’s box high above the ice.

We crane our necks to see Phil Carlton, the current owner, standing with several figures against the glass. One of them is Everett Kauffman, the billionaire who just signed to take Phil’s place as owner of the Hawkeyes.

“It’s… going well,” Penelope says carefully. “Phil’s showing Everett around today. He wants to ease the transition.”

“You don’t sound thrilled,” Brynn observes, her sharp gaze not missing a beat.

‘It’s going to be fine. Cammy is taking over the auction planning, so that’s huge.’

Brynn grins. “I know, I’m so excited. We’re meeting in a couple of days so that I can help.”

“You’ve got a manuscript due to your publisher next month,” Penelope counters, with a smirk. “This better not be you finding an excuse to procrastinate. The last thing we need is your agent calling me to complain.”

Brynn laughs, holding her hands up in surrender. “Fair point. I’m just going to get Cammy on her way, then I’ll back off, I swear.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, watching as puck after puck flies toward JP. He blocks most of them, diving and lunging with precision, though there are close calls. My dad’s voice cuts through the arena, sharp and precise. JP doesn’t flinch, doesn’t argue, only adjusts his stance like he’s been waiting for this criticism his whole life.

The same way I used to…

‘Your dad’s not making it easy for him,’ Penelope observes, her sharp eyes tracking every save and miss.

‘He never makes it easy for anyone,’ I reply, keeping my tone neutral.

But as JP lunges for a low shot, his mask tilting up to glance at the stands, my stomach twists. Seven’s high standards are nothing compared to what JP and I left unsaid.

I force out a hum of agreement.

I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t even be watching.

JP glances up, his eyes locking on mine through the plexiglass. Even from here, I feel the pull—the same magnetic force that made me say yes in San Diego, the same one I swore I’d never feel again.noveldrama

His mask hides his expression, but his posture stiffens. He missed a puck by Luka Popovich. The Russian Olympian Left Winger taking over for Lake Powers, after Lake retired last season to move to Aspen full time with his wife Tessa.

Brynn whistles low. “Well, that was interesting.”

“What was?” I ask, feigning innocence as I bounce Milo on my lap.

Penelope smirks. “The way JP just missed that shot because he was too busy staring at you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I shove a handful of goldfish crackers into my mouth, hoping they’ll absorb the flush creeping up my neck.

Brynn leans in, smirking. “That shot he missed? It’s your fault, you know.”

I glare at her. “I’m pretty sure Luka’s slap shot is what beat him, not me. Or maybe he’s just rusty.” I grumble, bouncing Milo on my knee.

“Mmm, sure,” Brynn hums. “It has nothing to do with the way he keeps looking up here like a puppy who lost his favorite toy.”

As Brynn reaches for Milo, and Penelope’s phone buzzes with another notification, I can’t help glancing back at the ice.

‘Bozeman!’ I hear my dad’s voice echo in the stands. ‘You’re up!’

JP’s skating toward the bench, his shoulders tense. Olsen Bozeman, the Hawkeyes starting goal tender who was signed to take Reeve Aisa’s place when he retired last year, skates past JP, heading for the goalpost. He hasn’t gotten cleared for games yet, but he’s back to practicing with the team.

My dad meets him at the boards, his expression unreadable as they exchange a few words before JP steps into the home bench and takes a seat.

Brynn’s voice pulls me back. “Whatever happened between you two in San Diego, seems more than a one-night stand to him. Why don’t you just ask him what happened and why he left with her?”

Brynn knows our history. She got it out of me the night I came back from San Diego.

The text about happily ever after really tipped her off.

I freeze. “It was nothing. I should have figured that one night was all he wanted. It was a misunderstanding.”

Penelope raises an eyebrow. “It was more than a misunderstanding. I’ve never seen a player go to the length he went to in order to get your attention.”

I grit my teeth, forcing my tone to stay neutral. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said before, it’s ancient history.”

And as long as I have something to say about it, that’s how it will stay.