Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Grady
When I was a younger man, I could go all night and still get it up after sunrise. I thought those days were behind me.
Viv tests that theory, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find that even though I need more time per refractory period, there are plenty of other things I can do to keep her satisfied.
I wake before my alarm, with Viv’s head on my shoulder and her legs tangled with mine. It looks like I lost the custody battle for the blankets sometime in the night.
Last night has left me raw in a way that I didn’t expect. Not just from the sex, although it’s the best workout I’ve had in a long time. I’m sore in places that don’t make sense. Emotionally, though, I’m unmoored.
At the end, with Larisse, there was no joy in our lovemaking. Calling it love would be a stretch. Everything was timed to the day, focused around her ovulation cycles, rote and routine, and clinical. I’ve heard from other guys in similar situations that it can be stressful to approach sex like that, but in hindsight, I should have noticed Larisse peeling away from me. We weren’t a team anymore. She didn’t want me, just the baby I couldn’t provide.
After we split, I was messed up about it for a long time. The mere thought of casual sex was an instant turn-off, but I didn’t want to repeat my breakup with Larisse, either. So I’ve been alone, for the most part.
But Viv… I don’t know what it is, but from the moment I saw her, I knew. She was mine, I was hers, and something was meant to happen between us. Something big and important and possibly life-changing.
It occurs to me suddenly that I’ve left Blade in his crate since last night, and the poor guy probably needs to go out. With more than a little reluctance, I extricate myself from Viv, pull on some sweatpants, and tiptoe to the door.
The second Blade is freed from his crate, he makes a beeline for the stairs, and I have to physically drag him back to the first floor and then to the back door. He whines even after I put him outside and waddles off to pee only when it becomes obvious that I’m not going to let him pester Viv. The poor, besotted lump is almost as pathetic as I am.
Since I’m already up, I clear up everything we left out from last night’s dinner, then start making breakfast. Dinner is beyond my meager skillset, but even I know how to cook eggs without fucking them up. I get some coffee going, too, then take Blade his breakfast on the back porch. Once again, he tries to dodge between my legs, but given that he’s the size of a miniature horse, he’s SOL.
“You’re eating out here, or you’re eating in the crate,” I scold. “Pick a lane.”
Blade huffs his displeasure, but he sullenly lowers his head to the bowl and begins inhaling his food with all the enthusiasm of a Dust Devil.
I was hoping to take Viv breakfast in bed, but I’m still plating up my turkey bacon and scrambled eggs when I hear her on the stairs.
“Good morning,” I call. “How do you like your coffee?”
“With two pumps of vanilla and foamed milk,” she teases. I turn to find her leaning against the kitchen island, watching me with ravenous eyes. “But I’ll settle for some creamer, if you’ve got it.”
My heart skips a beat when I see that she’s holding her dress from last night, but wearing one of my Venom shirts. I say a silent prayer of thanks that it doesn’t have my name on it; it’s just a t-shirt, the kind they shoot out of the cannons or sell at the rink.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” I rasp, unable to think of anything more engaging to say. Damn, it looks good on her.
“Sure am. Although maybe you want it?” Viv nods to my naked torso. She’s washed her face and combed out her hair, and the effect is so different from last night's made-up, sultry look that I can’t help staring. The light dusting of freckles across her nose mesmerize me. She looks… not younger, exactly, but more… real. Not like a mermaid, but a person. I want to kiss her again, right now.
I want to wrap my fingers around her waist, lift her up on the counter, and bury my face between her legs.
I want to convince her to stay.
“Because of the bacon?” Viv prompts, and I realize I’ve just been staring at her. “Pretty bold to cook bacon topless. That’s a good way to burn your nips. Trust me, I learned that the hard way.”
I let out a snort of laughter. “Turkey bacon is safe. Less fat.”
“Ah, I should have guessed.” She slides onto a barstool as I push one of the plates across to her. “So you’re a fitness guy. And a Venom fan?”
“Something like that,” I agree.
I suppose I could just tell her I’m the coach, but something holds me back. We’ve both been pretty cagey about who we are outside of this little romantic bubble and while I want to get to know her better, I don’t want to lead with this information. I want to go slow, so I have a better chance of not imploding. What if I tell her I’m an NHL coach, and she decides she’s interested in me for something other than, well, me? Worse, what if she sees me as a stepping stone, like Larisse did… a means to an end?
I don’t want that. In fact, I’d prefer she just thinks I’m a ditch digger even though my fancy house would scream otherwise. So I keep my mouth shut and fetch the creamer from the fridge.
Blade whines at the back door until Viv takes pity on him. The second she opens it, he squeezes through the impossibly small gap, wagging his whole back end and licking every part of her he can reach.
Relatable.
“I’ve got to go to work in a bit here,” I tell Viv. “Do you want me to give you a ride somewhere?”
“That’s all right. I can get a ride.” Viv scratches Blade’s head with one hand and holds her mug with the other, taking little sips from the still-scalding contents. “I’ve got things to do today. And tonight,” she adds. “So if you were going to ask me on a proper date, I’m going to have to take a rain check.”
A slow smile creeps over my face. “If I asked, would you say yes?”
“Like I said, depends on the timing. I’m a busy woman.” Her eyes sparkle over the edge of the mug.
Unfortunately, I have plans, too. After morning practice, I have a party to attend at Noah’s house. I wish I could ask her, but even I know that it’s too soon to be introducing her to my people, when we’re still getting to know each other. Even so, I might be brazen enough to invite her if she hadn’t already made her excuses.
“Don’t go disappearing on me,” I warn her. “Blade might die of a broken heart.”
Viv’s lips twitch toward a smile. “Blade gets attached easily, doesn’t he?”
“Almost never,” I say. “But when he decides he likes someone, that’s it. He’s head over heels.”
Viv hums. I wonder if I’ve said too much. We finish our breakfast, she gets up to gather her things, and I can’t tell if the quiet between us is comfortable or awkward. I have the horrible feeling that if I hold too tight, she’ll slip away. One night and two meals, and I’m already afraid of wanting too much.
No, it’s not that. I’m afraid I’ll disappoint her.
“Let me at least get you a bag for your things.” I rummage around in the closet until I find a small black duffel and hand it to her.
Viv slips around the end of the island and kisses me on the cheek. “See you soon, Grady,” she says, shoving her dress inside the bag. “Don’t wait too long. I don’t normally serve second helpings.”
I watch her sashay away, still wearing my shirt. That’s when I realize she’s given me the perfect excuse to get in touch. If nothing else, she’s got two items belonging to me that I’ll want to retrieve. I wonder if she’s left something of her own here, on a side table or tucked under the bed, another little reason for us to speak again.
* * *
The arena is alive with the sound of blades cutting into the ice, pucks snapping off sticks, and the occasional shout of a player calling for a pass. Morning skate always has this buzz to it, the kind that gets your blood pumping even when you’re running on two hours of sleep and too much adrenaline. Not that I’m admitting to anyone why I barely slept. Least of all Viktor.
He skates off the ice, tossing his stick onto the bench and unstrapping his gloves. There’s a cocky grin on his face as he leans over the boards, his hair damp and sticking out at every angle. I already know what’s coming, and I brace myself.
“So…” Viktor drawls, dragging the word out like it’s got a dozen syllables. “How’d it go?”
I don’t look at him. Instead, I grab the clipboard on the bench and start jotting down notes on the penalty kill drills we just ran. “How did what go?” I ask, knowing full well he won’t let this go.
Viktor snorts. “Don’t play dumb, Coach. The chicken piccata. The whole date-night vibe. I mean, I crushed it in the kitchen for you, I let your dog bruise my ass cheek, so I figure the least you can do is let me know if it paid off.”
I set the clipboard down, finally meeting his smug gaze. “It went fine. Thanks for the assist.”
“Fine?” Viktor arches a brow. “That’s it? Just fine? Come on, you’re killing me here. Did she like the food? Did she—”
“Viktor.” My voice cuts through his teasing like a blade, sharp and final. “You’re not my confidante. You’re my winger. Keep it professional.”
His grin falters, and for a second, I think I’ve shut him down. But then he smirks again, this time with a knowing edge. “Sure, Coach. Whatever you say.”
He skates off, leaving me standing there, gripping the clipboard like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered. Fine. Let him think what he wants. Because if he knew the truth—that last night wasn’t just dinner, that it ended with me wanting something I probably have no business wanting—it would only make things more complicated.
And the last thing I need is more complications.
I force my focus back to the ice, watching the guys cycle through their drills. We’re running a tight breakout this morning, pushing quick puck movement up the boards to test our speed and decision-making under pressure. Knight powers through the neutral zone like a freight train, cutting between two defenders before snapping a shot just wide of the net. Viktor’s on the rebound in a heartbeat, scooping it up and feeding it to Tristan in the slot. It’s sharp, fast hockey—the kind of play we’ll need if we want to keep momentum going into the back half of the season.
“Better!” I call, slapping the boards. “Stay aggressive, but keep your heads up. Abbott, don’t cheat too low—we need you in position to backcheck if they turn it over.”
He nods, though I catch a flash of that cocky grin as he glides away. The players fall into rhythm, line after line rotating in, and for a while, I manage to stay in the zone. But then, as I watch them reset, my thoughts drift again. To her . To last night.
By the time I blow the final whistle and send the team to the locker room, my head’s a mess. I need to get it together. There’s a party tonight, a public appearance I can’t skip, and I can’t show up looking like I’ve spent the whole day obsessing over a woman I shouldn’t even be thinking about.
I shower before I leave, washing the last of Viv’s scent from my skin. I should wash the sheets, too, given everything we did last night. Hopefully, I won’t have to go too long without being around her again because she’s quickly becoming an addiction.
I’m not sure what to expect from this evening, so I opt for a Venom polo and slacks. My knee is giving me hell, so I end up driving over, even though it’s only a few blocks between Noah’s place and mine.
I’m a little early, so when I go around back, Viktor, Noah, and Noah’s wife are the only ones there. They’re still setting up, but Viktor pauses when he sees me.
“Coach, did I hear you pull up?” Viktor asks. “You’re, like, ten minutes away.”
“Yeah, well.” I reach down to touch my thigh involuntarily. “With my knee…”
“What’s wrong with your knee?”
Noah is manning the grill within earshot of this conversation. He’s checking the temperature on a tray of steaks. I wonder if he can hear me over the sound of the sizzle.
“My career-ending knee injury that you’ve probably heard about over the years,” I say. “For a while, they didn’t know if I’d be able to walk again without a pronounced limp or a mobility aid.”
Viktor blanches. For the first time since I’ve met him, there isn’t even the hint of a smile on his face. “Damn, Coach, I didn’t know. That’s terrible.” The threat of injury is enough to put the fear of God in even the most confident player. I’m well aware that my story is a cautionary tale for younger guys like him.
I expect him to ask about last night again just to mess with me, but Noah’s wife, a very pretty and tiny blonde woman, comes over to introduce herself. I get caught up talking to her about her bookstore, and by then other people have started to arrive.
I’ve kept Noah at arm’s length, but I like his wife. Her name’s Molly, and she looks like a Disney princess, although I can already tell she has a wicked sense of humor. When Ranger shows up with his wife and daughter, Molly introduces them.
“This is Delilah,” she says, indicating Ranger’s wife. “Yes, she’s way out of his league, but we try not to rub it in too much.”
“Gross,” says their daughter, Dot. She favors her mother, but she has Ranger’s eyes and freckles that don’t appear to come from either of them. “Don’t pimp my mom out to the new guy.”
Molly ignores her. “And that’s Layla. Hi, Layla!” She waves her arm over her head to get the attention of a woman who just walked in with Briggs.
Layla waves back and comes over to meet me and ask how I’m finding Vegas. Like me, she’s from up north—not from Canada, although she says they have a mutual friend I should meet. We commiserate about desert living for a bit until she makes her excuses. I hunt down a beer and wander over to the circle of players to find an empty chair.
Viktor keeps hanging around near me, and I narrow my eyes at him. “Abbott, stop looming over me. Take a seat.”
He shakes his head. “I’d love to, Coach, but a dog took a bite out of my seat last night. I’ll stand.”
Camden, who has barely said two words to me, probably because I didn’t care if he vomited at practice the other day, sits up so fast he nearly drops his drink. “Oh, my God! Did you go to the doctor?”
Dot, who’s been talking to Knight and his fiancée Sofia, is similarly shocked. “You need to make sure the dog has all of his shots.”
Camden nods vigorously. “You might need a rabies series! They do those right in the gut. That’ll make you forget about your broken ass.”
“And goodbye, eight-pack,” Knight adds with a smirk.
Viktor pouts. “Aww, but then your sister will be so sad!”
I clear my throat and decide to shut this down before it gets out of hand. “I’m sure the dog is good. He probably has a responsible owner who takes him for care regularly.”
Viktor snickers. “Probably. So you can calm down, Cam.”
If anything, Camden looks more worked up than before. “You can’t just assume that! I don’t know what happened, but it’s better to take precautions.”
“Hey, dude, deep breaths.” Knight holds out an arm and pats the empty air in a soothing gesture. “You’re almost as red as you were during practice the other day.”
Viktor cups his hand around his mouth like he’s whispering to me, but he doesn’t bother to lower his voice. “Don’t worry, Coach. He won’t puke now, either. I told him not to eat before the party.”
Sofia seems worried about Camden, but she, too, seems to decide that a change of topic is warranted. “Hey, where’s your sister, Viktor?”
Dot snorts and crosses her arms. “Probably avoiding all these young, horny, single hockey players who are always trying to get with her.”
Knight snickers. “She’s already seen all their dicks anyway.”
Tristan, my new favorite left winger, scoffs. “She hasn’t seen mine… but having shared the showers with the rest of you, I get why she wouldn’t be impressed.”
“You’re asking the wrong questions,” says a woman’s voice. “What I want to know is, where’s the vicious, self-serving coach who almost made my sweet Camden puke?” She walks up behind Camden and ruffles his hair. He squawks and tries to swat her away, making the other guys laugh.
I look up to see who the newcomer is, and I almost choke on my tongue. The woman standing behind Camden is looking around the circle in search of an unfamiliar face. Her eyes meet mine, and I fight the urge to slither off my chair and hide under the lip of the pool deck.
“Oh,” Vivian says. “It’s you.”