Chapter 9 Cole
Cole
I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours trying to convince myself it’s not really fucking hot that Cassie hustled me at pool last night.
I told her she’s full of surprises, and it’s true. She’s nothing like most sports agents. She’s sweet, feminine, and warm. But she’s also strong, smart, and sharp. And she beat the hell out of me at pool.
It’s the Nor’easters’ first game since the iced coffee incident that started this whole mess—another game at home, this time against Winnipeg. Which means it’s the first game Cassie’s attending as my ‘supervisor’.
“So,” Landon says, appearing in front of me where I’m sitting in the players’ lounge, “trade rumors.”
“Don’t worry, Cap,” I quip, not looking up from the game tape I’m watching on a tablet. “I don’t think they want to trade you.”
“Hilarious,” Landon drawls. “No, Cole, the rumor is you’re being traded. We all saw the clip of you and that drunk Florida fan. Did something happen between you and the front office?”
I finally glance up at him. “Whatever the front office does is between the GM and his therapist, or his psychic, or whoever the hell he uses to help him make trade decisions.”
“Freeze. C’mon, man. We need you if we’re going to make a real finals run this year.” He crosses his arms, obviously not in the mood for jokes.
Landon badly wants a shot at a championship. So do I. I feel it in my chest—but whereas that feeling used to be something simple and powerful, now it’s all tangled up.
“I’m handling the situation,” I mutter.
My phone buzzes with a notification. It’s Cassie; she’s arrived.
I walk out to meet her at the arena’s reception desk. I actually catch myself wondering what color shoes she’s wearing today. Sunflower yellow again? Or that bright baby blue?
Which pisses me off more, because when did I become a guy who thinks about that kind of thing? Especially about a woman I’m very much not sleeping with?
Cassie is waiting at the entrance. She turns to face me, smiling. “Hey, Cole. Still mad I beat you at pool last night?”
“Haven’t thought about it once since,” I lie, and she grins like she knows that I’m full of shit.
I glance down. Her heels are warm orange today. Like a sweet tangerine. She’s dressed in a sharp skirt and a blouse that clings to her just enough that I feel heat stir insistently in my stomach.
“Come on,” I say. “I’ll show you around.”
We walk back through the private hallway.
“No matter how many times I come to the arena, I still can’t believe it," Cassie says. She lightly touches the wall as if she’s making sure it’s real. "Seeing behind the scenes. I dreamed about this for so long.”
“You’ll get over it.”
She blinks. “Get over it?”
“That’s how I felt the first few years of my career, too. I couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to end up being drafted by the Nor’easters at nineteen. But fast forward over a decade, and it’s not that simple anymore.”
I catch myself. Shit. I didn’t mean to say that much.
She stares at me, her bright blue eyes hitting some part of me beneath the surface. She gently shrugs. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.”
“Yeah, well. Meet me back here in twelve years and we’ll see, sunshine.”
I’ve been calling her ‘sunshine’ just to get on her nerves, which doesn’t even seem to work, anyway.
But Cassie’s brightness isn’t like the sun, not really.
It’s like fireworks. Bright and colorful and explosive, because really she’s a firecracker underneath all that sweetness.
She’s not the type of nice girl to let people walk all over her to make them happy.
She’s the type of nice girl who would make an asshole see the error of their ways and become her friend by sheer force of will.
She’s right. I underestimated her.
I’ve learned my lesson.
But that doesn’t make accepting her as my goddamn babysitter any easier.
I nod at the door of the players’ lounge where everyone’s hanging out before the game prep kicks off.
We walk in, and I watch as ten sets of hockey players’ eyes land on Cassie. A weird feeling burns in my stomach, something I definitely don’t want to examine.
“Oh, shit,” Miller says, bounding up to us. “You’re the girl from the video.” He mimes grabbing an invisible iced coffee and hurling it at an invisible Florida fan.
Cassie nods, her pretty smile flashing. “Yep. That’s me.”
Landon strolls over to where we stand. “Hey there. Who’s your friend, Cole?”
I clear my throat. God, this is awkward. “This is… Cassie.”
Landon and Miller stare at me expectantly, waiting to find out who exactly Cassie is. My mind goes blank. I can’t think of how to introduce her without including the phrase ‘mind your own fucking business’.
But Cassie steps forward. “So nice to meet you. I’m a junior agent at Legacy Sports. I’m going to be sitting in on practices and games for the next few months.”
Miller cocks his head to the side. “Why? Agents don’t usually come to all the games.”
I feel my jaw clench, but Cassie is already smoothly answering. “My boss wants me to take notes on the games and provide him with feedback.”
My eyes flick toward her, surprised. I feel a brief rush of gratitude for her. I’ve been… not exactly the friendliest to her, but she’s still covering for me.
“Yeah,” I agree gruffly. “Notes and shit.”
But this cover doesn’t last long, because Landon is staring at me with an annoyingly knowing look. Our captain has always been one of the smartest players in the league.
“That wouldn’t have anything to do with your behavior lately, Freeze?” Landon asks dryly.
“None of your business.”
“I’m just doing the math here,” Landon says. “The coffee video. Plus trade rumors. Plus a pissed-off front office. Plus a frustrated agent. Equals…” Landon’s eyes land on Cassie. “A junior agent sent to keep you in line?”
Miller glances between me and Cassie, realization dawning. “Oh my god, dude… Did your agent give you a babysitter?”
I grunt out a noncommittal answer.
I’m never going to live this down.
Miller doubles over in fits of laughter, barely managing to gasp out his words. “Cole has a babysitter! This is incredible. Cap, can you believe this?”
Landon isn’t laughing. “Yeah. I can believe it.”
Our captain always sees through all of our bullshit. He doesn’t know about the spiral Jess’s overdose threw me into. But he knows I’ve been screwing up lately, retreating inward, and losing my temper when anything touches the live wire.
I frown. Fuck it.
“It’s true. The front office is going to trade me if I don’t get my act together.” I try to shrug, as if there’s not a weight like a rock in my chest at the idea of being traded away from the team I love.
Miller’s laughter dies, and he straightens back up. He and Landon exchange glances. “Shit, Cole. That’s serious.”
My chest grows tighter, but Cassie speaks up, her voice gentle and firm. “It really doesn’t matter why I’m here. That’s between the front office, my boss, Cole, and nobody else. I promise I won’t get in your way. In fact, you won’t even notice I’m here.”
Cassie’s phone rings in her hand, and she glances down. “Sorry, it’s Rick,” she says. “I have to take this.”
Won’t even notice her? Yeah, right, like there’s any chance of that. I notice Miller’s stare drop to Cassie’s ass as she walks away to take the call in the corner of the players’ lounge.
Not that I’m looking, either.
Definitely not looking.
Miller turns back to me. “So… what’s the policy on me asking out your babysitter?”
“No.” My voice is firm and flat. “The policy is no.”
“Come on, dude, she’s cute. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed.”
“I haven’t.”
“Yeah right,” he snorts. “Look, I figure you’re not interested because she’s your agent and everything—”
“She’s not my agent. Rick is my agent.”
“—and you’re on the whole anti-social, no dating thing lately. But I’m just letting you know I think she’s hot, and I’m going to shoot my shot.”
“I said no, Miller,” I growl. “There are a thousand girls in bars across New England who’d be easily charmed into bed with you just because you half know how to hold a hockey stick.
She’s here to work, not to be hit on by an overgrown rookie with the attention span of a golden retriever.
This is the one woman you can’t ask out. Deal with it.”
He scoffs. “Who are you calling a rookie? You know I’m twenty-six. And anyway, I wasn’t asking for permission.”
I feel my temper fraying. “Do not fucking ask out Cassie—”
“Whoa, fellas,” Landon says, stepping between us, ever the Southern goddamn gentleman. “Cool it. No fighting with a lady nearby, you got that?”
“Fine, dude. I won’t hit on her.” Miller’s grin turns wicked. “But only if you agree to come to Landon’s New Year’s Eve party this year. You always say you’ll come to team parties, but then you never show.”
God, do I want to be done with this conversation with this cocky little bastard. Okay, sure, I’ve always had a big soft spot for Miller and his scattershot attention span. But right now he’s getting on my nerves.
“Fine. Whatever. I agree.”
Miller fist pumps. “Hell yeah. Now the whole team is coming. This is going to be a total rager.”
Landon’s face pales slightly. “Miller, it was supposed to be a casual, grown-ups drinking wine-style get-together—”
But Miller is already bounding off, pulling out his phone, probably to blast off another round of invites to his friends of friends of friends.
Cassie walks back over. “What did I miss?”
Better to get everyone on the same page. I resent having a babysitter, but I don’t want her to have a bad time here.
“Everyone, listen up,” I yell at the team, voice rough.
One by one, my teammates stop what they’re doing and turn to face me.
“This is Cassie Wells. She works for my agent. He sent her to make sure I don’t get kicked off the team.
” There are a few looks of surprise, but I keep yelling.
“Don’t bother her. She’s a professional.
So no jokes, no hitting on her, and absolutely no disrespect.
Or I’ll personally kick the shit out of you myself, trade be damned. Got it?”
Cassie gives me a soft look of surprise before she turns to wave at the room. “Hi! Big fan of you guys.”
There’s a round of nods from the team, and everyone goes back to what they were doing.
“Thought I’d just rip the band-aid off,” I say gruffly to Cassie.
“Thanks for the introduction. Your teammates seem like good guys.”
“Yeah. Nice. Great guys.” My teeth are only slightly gritted.
I absolutely do not mention Miller.
Or the date he nearly asked her out on.
Or the party I just got stuck going to.
All just to keep Cassie Wells to myself.