My Captain Is a Menace

Jovian’s POV

If there was one thing I enjoyed more than scoring a goal, it was watching Alaric Wynn lose his temper.

The man could turn a simple passing drill into a personal war. Every time I looked his way during practice, he wore the same expression, like he was calculating how many rules he could bend to get me kicked off the team.

Honestly, I was beginning to take it as a compliment.

“Stop smiling at your phone,” Dex said, dropping onto the bench beside me in the locker room. “It's creepy.”

I locked my screen. “You're just jealous because someone actually wants to text me.”

“Someone? You mean the three people you've been flirting with this week?”

“Four, actually.”

Dex stared at me. “You need help.”

“I need a vacation and for our captain to stop behaving like he owns the rink.”

“Wynn owns the rink now? Damn. I should ask him to lower my rent.”

I laughed and tossed my towel at him.

My phone vibrated again. It was a message from Maya Collins, a girl from one of my classes.

Maya: Are we still on for tonight?

Me: Depends. Are you still planning to beat me at bowling?

Maya: Planning? I've already accepted your defeat.

Maya was studying sports journalism, had a sharp tongue, and seemed to enjoy challenging me whenever I bragged. I'd asked her out twice, but she'd turned me down both times. Last week, however, she'd agreed to go bowling with me, although she'd been very clear that it wasn't a date.

I wasn't going to complain. Progress was progress.

“Who are you smiling at now?” Dex asked, trying to look over my shoulder.

“None of your business.”

“It's Maya, isn't it?”

“How do you know her name?”

“Because you haven't shut up about her for about two days.”

“That's an exaggeration.”

Dex shook his head. “You're finished.”

I shoved my phone into my bag. “Worry about your own romantic disasters.”

“I don't have romantic disasters. I have peace.”

“You have an empty bed and a dating profile nobody replies to.”

He walked away, laughing, and I finished packing my things.

Hockey mattered to me, but it wasn't my entire identity. I wanted to make it to the professional leagues, and I knew talent alone wouldn't get me there. I needed discipline, consistency, and the ability to work with people who didn't always agree with me.

Unfortunately, one of those people was Alaric Wynn.

I had no problem admitting that Wynn was a good captain. He was sharp, experienced, and knew how to read a game. The problem was that he seemed to believe being captain gave him the right to dictate every move I made.

I hadn't worked this hard to get onto the university team just to spend the next few years playing like someone else's shadow.

If I saw an opening, I was going to take it. If I thought a play would work, I was going to try it. And if Wynn wanted me to change my entire style because he didn't like surprises, he could keep dreaming.

By the time I left the locker room, I spotted him speaking to Coach Brandt in the corridor.

“Mercer,” Wynn called when he noticed me watching.

“Captain.”

“Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Several places, actually. I'm a very popular man.”

“Try being a useful one.”

I laughed. “You should write motivational speeches instead of playing hockey. That one nearly changed my life.”

Coach Brandt sighed. “Both of you, please. I have a limited supply of patience, and you seem determined to use it all.”

“I'm behaving, Coach,” I said.

“Your definition of behaving is the problem.”

Wynn looked almost pleased to hear that. I made a mental note to annoy him later.

Coach turned to me. “Mercer, review the footage from yesterday's game before tomorrow's practice. Focus on your positioning, especially during defensive transitions.”

“Sure.”

“And Wynn, pay attention to how you communicate with your wingers.”

Wynn nodded. “Understood.”

“Good. Maybe the two of you will learn something.”

I continued down the corridor, already looking forward to the moment I could finally get away from my captain.

It was going to be a long season.

My afternoon lecture dragged on longer than it should have.

Maya sat two rows ahead of me. When she caught me looking at her for the third time, she raised an eyebrow.

I mouthed, What?

She shook her head, smiling, before turning back to the lecturer.

When class ended, I caught up with her outside.

“Are you stalking me?” she asked.

“I prefer the term showing interest.”

“you stared at me throughout the class.”

“That's because you're sitting in front of me.”

“There are thirty other people in that room.”

“And none of them are as interesting as you.”

She rolled her eyes. “ Don't flatter me. Do you practise those lines in the mirror?”

“I don't need to. They come naturally.”

She just smiled, then we started walking toward the campus café together.

“So, how's life with your favourite captain?” she asked.

I groaned. “Don't remind me.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Imagine being forced to work with someone who thinks every disagreement is an attack on his authority.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It is. And the worst part is that he's actually good at his job. It would be much easier if he were terrible.”

Maya laughed. “You sound personally offended by his existence.”

“That's because I am.”

“Have you considered that maybe he doesn't hate you as much as you think?”

I stopped walking to stare at her.

“What kind of ridiculous statement is that?”

“Maybe he just finds you difficult.”

“Everyone finds me charming except him.”

She smiled, and I wondered if she'd finally be willing to call our evening a date. Before I could ask, her phone rang.

“Sorry. I need to take this.”

“No problem.”

She stepped away to answer. When she returned, she looked distracted.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. Just my brother.”

I didn't press her. We collected our food and sat by the window, talking about classes and music until I remembered our plans.

“So, are we still bowling tonight?”

She hesitated. “Actually, can we do another day? Something came up.”

I kept my expression casual. “Sure. No problem.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. We'll reschedule.”

She smiled, but she didn't suggest another day.

I told myself not to overthink it. We weren't dating, and she didn't owe me anything. Still, the disappointment annoyed me more than it should have.

I wasn't used to chasing anyone. Usually, flirting was easy. If someone was interested, I could tell. If they weren't, I moved on.

Maya was harder to read.

Maybe that was part of why I liked her.

After she left, I finished my drink and checked my phone. My agent, Marcus, was calling.

“Hey,” I answered. “Everything all right?”

“Fine. I wanted to discuss something with you. Your name came up during a conversation with someone who follows university hockey closely.”

I sat up straighter. “Is this because of the goal?”

“Partly. Your speed and offensive instincts are getting noticed. But there's another concern.”

My smile faded. “What concern?”

“Consistency. People like your talent, Jovian, but they want to know you can operate within a system. If you're constantly in and out of position, the goals won't be enough.”

I leaned back in my chair.

I knew I took risks, but hearing that from Marcus made me take it seriously. He understood how much I wanted to play professionally.

“So what are you saying?”

“Listen to your coach. Learn to work with your teammates. And don't let a personal rivalry damage your reputation.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Who said anything about a personal rivalry?”

“Your coach mentioned that you and your captain have been struggling to get along.”

Of course he had. Couch Brandt couldn't keep his mouth shot.

“Wynn and I are fine. We're teammates. We don't necessarily have to be friends.”

“No, but you do have to work together. Scouts notice these things. Don't make me regret backing you.”

The call ended a few minutes later.

I sat there, thinking about what he'd said. I wanted to make it to the professional leagues, and I wasn't going to let my temper ruin my chances.

Tomorrow, I'll listen to Wynn's instructions. I'd communicate during drills and give Coach Brandt no reason to complain about me.

I could be professional and disciplined too. I could even tolerate Wynn for a few hours without wanting to punch him.

Probably.

My phone buzzed with a message from Coach Brandt.

Coach Brandt: Team meeting tomorrow at 7:30 a.m. Attendance is mandatory. We have an important announcement regarding the upcoming season.

I frowned.

Another meeting? What now?

Before I could reply, a message appeared in the team group chat.

Dex: If this is another lecture about teamwork, I'm transferring.

A few teammates responded with laughing emojis.

Then Coach sent another message.

Coach Brandt: One more thing. Wynn and Mercer, report to my office immediately after the meeting. The two of you will be working on a special assignment together.

I stared at the screen.

You have got to be kidding me.

I messaged Dex privately.

Me: If I disappear tomorrow, tell my family I died doing what I loved.

Dex: Hockey?

Me: murdering our beloved captain.

I shoved my phone into my pocket and headed home.

What is couch planning this time?

As if making me practice with Wynn wasn't enough.