5. Anthony
FIVE
ANTHONY
A knock sounds on my office door, and I call out, “Come in.”
“Coach,” a familiar voice says, but I can’t place it.
I turn around, and like some sick joke, I find Logan standing before me.
No fucking way.
If he didn’t have his jersey on, I might be able to lie to myself for a few more minutes that he merely goes to school here and isn’t on my team, but I know better.
Son of a bitch.
Out of millions of fucking people in this city, I had to hook up with one of the guys on my team. What are the fucking odds?
What the fuck do I even say to him? Don’t talk about us fucking, that’s for sure.
“Logan…” His name clicks in my brain as I say it aloud. Logan Cox, the son of the man who ruined my career. I took the job knowing he was joining the team, that he’d be a problem, but I never could have imagined he was also this Logan.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
How did I not see it when we hooked up? He has to look like his mother, because he doesn’t look anything like his father.
I’m just getting to a place where I’m not carrying around the anger for that fucking man, and his fucking son is standing before me.
Cox. I have to think of him that way. I can no longer think of him as Logan, the guy who rocked my world that night. It’s bad enough I’m stuck with the knowledge that he’s a student of mine now.
Suddenly, something clicks, and the mental math, well, math. I slap my chest, horrified. “Aren’t you a freshman this year…? Were you even eighteen? You were still in high school… How were you drinking?!” Horror fills my veins.
Hadn’t I asked? Yes I did. He’d said he was old enough to be drinking in a bar. Fuck.
“Of course I was eighteen. I wouldn’t do that to you or anyone else.” Cox scoffs like he’s offended I’d even ask. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
I calm a little. But only a little.
“I’m sure your dad would see it otherwise.” I put a hand over my eyes, rubbing my brow.
“Fuck my father,” he sneers.
I’ve hit a nerve. My brow ticks up. “I’d prefer not to fuck your father. He’s not my type, and I don’t believe your mother would approve.”
Cox’s lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile. “I’d much rather you fuck me.”
I blanch. “I’m your coach. We cannot ever do that again.” I won’t invite his father back into my life and hand him another way to ruin it on a silver platter.
“And? I don’t imagine you’re the type to give special treatment.”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m the type or not. I’ll be fired. I hold a position of authority over—” I cut myself off as his eyes light with knowing over my words.
“I’d like you to hold a position of authority over me again…” Cox’s lips finally break into a smile. “In bed,” he adds, in case there was any doubt. Damn it, he’s everything he was when we met and still as attractive. But eighteen . What is wrong with me?
I put a horrified hand over my mouth. “Please don’t, and I’d appreciate you not spreading rumors to your teammates and putting my job at risk.”
“I’d never kiss and tell.” Cox steps into my space, looking up through his lashes at me. “You have nothing to worry about…” He rubs his tongue inside his cheek.
“No.”
His grin grows.
“I mean it,” I say through my teeth.
“Come on, who else do you know in the city?” He steps back and drags his gaze down my body. “You look like you need the stress release.”
“I don’t need anything.” Let alone for him to grab my dick and find out I’m half hard.
“I know you like it. You forget, I’ve seen how you act in bed.” There’s a curl to his words.
“How did I act?” I ask against all good judgement.
“Starved,” Cox whispers the word.
“I was not—” I cut myself off as flashes of that night fill my mind. I had been starved, but how had this guy seen through me in one drunken night? I’ve thought about it every night since. But I’m not starved now. No, I’m hungry, and that’s just as dangerous.
“You don’t have to admit it. I can see it in your eyes, Hawke.” He’s smug as fuck.
“You are?—”
“What?” he asks, the arrogance and joy reaching his eyes.
“A fuck.” I grab control of myself. “Who needs to put his focus on the ice and hockey.”
“Hockey, I can handle.” He’s good, but he needs to prove himself like everyone else on the team.
I believe in coming in without preconceived notions. “What if I’m the kind of guy who would stop you from playing because you pissed me off?” I can’t help the bite in my tone.
“I’ll have to be a good boy, then, won’t I?” Delight shines in his eyes—I walked right into that.
I put both hands up, palms towards him, as I take a step back. “We aren’t doing this. We are just coach and player.” I have to stay away from him, but how the fuck is that even possible when he’s on my team? I can’t boot him. Not only is he apparently one of the most promising incoming freshmen, but his family legacy is set in stone.
His mother will inherit majority ownership in New York’s major league hockey team, which makes Logan Cox royalty in this state. I’d be fired long before I could kick him off the team.
“Is that what you really want?” Cox steps with me, pressing his chest into my hands. He’s so cocky but happy and self-assured. He knows who he is and what he wants.
But he can’t have it.
I keep my eyes on his, the back of my neck prickling. “We need boundaries.”
“That’s not a no,” he muses.
“What does boundaries mean to you?”
“I can keep a great secret. We’ll have plenty of boundaries with the team.”
“I can’t… I need to know you won’t tell anyone.” This is it. I may have to deal with him blackmailing me.
“I’m not going to tell anyone if that’s all you’re worried about. I like my partners enthusiastic, not coerced.”
I breathe a little easier. “So we can leave this mistake behind us?”
“If you think I don’t know how turned on you are, you’re wrong.”
My skin prickles and heats. “Logan, we can’t.”
“Why not? I want you.” Every fucking word he utters makes me harder.
“Because.” I hesitate. “It’s not professional, and we need boundaries.” No matter how good it felt at the time.
“If you think you can resist me forever, good luck, I guess.” He shrugs. Then, he steps back and fucking winks at me. “See you tomorrow, Coach.”