Chapter 27
Cole
“Nice work today, Cole,” Landon says, slapping my back as we step off the ice. “Tough loss. We should’ve covered you better mid-ice.”
I shake my head. “I should’ve seen their winger coming.”
Losses used to eat at me more. And it’s not just because we’re somehow overperforming all the predictions for our season. (That ‘somehow’ is through tough coaching and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears.)
The truth is that I know someone is waiting for me every time I get off the ice.
And you’d have to be made of stone to not feel better when Cassie greets you with that smile.
As usual, she’s waiting for me down the hall from the locker rooms. She looks breathtakingly beautiful in a soft cream blouse.
(Not for the first time, I’m struck with the burning urge to see her wearing my jersey instead.) She’s wearing her sunflower-yellow shoes—my favorite on her, not that I’d ever share that with her.
“Sorry it didn’t go your way tonight. Seattle got lucky.”
I snort, but there’s a smile on my face. “Now you really sound like an agent. Buttering up my ego.”
“Cassie Wells?”
We both turn at the sound of her name.
There’s a guy walking over. Early thirties, probably. Clean-cut, decent-looking in a pretty-boy sort of way that women probably like, wearing a suit and a visitor’s pass around his neck.
Cassie’s eyebrows raise, and a smile spreads over her face. “Dan? Oh my god. It’s been forever.”
It’s not a surprise she knows someone at the arena—she’s probably charmed half the sports industry off its feet without even realizing it. I stare at the guy, and with a clench of my chest, I realize he does look charmed by her.
He grins. “Thought that was you. God, you look great. You still at Legacy Sports?”
“That’s right," Cassie replies. "I should say congratulations. I heard all about you crushing it in New York.”
He laughs. It sounds practiced, faux-humble. “Things have changed since our Legacy Sports days.”
I clear my throat. Cassie glances at me and quickly introduces us. “Dan, you know all about Cole, of course. And Cole, this is Dan. He used to work at Legacy Sports until he left us for NYC.”
We shake hands. “Good to meet you,” I say, even though it doesn’t feel particularly good right now.
“Big fan,” Dan says offhandedly, in a way that suggests he’s probably said that to every athlete he’s ever met.
“You got lucky working with Cassie here.” He turns back to her, a playful smile on his face.
“You know, Cassie, it’s probably good the timing never worked out between us.
We would’ve been fighting each other for clients, eventually. ”
“The… timing?” I repeat. My voice sounds clipped.
Cassie looks at me, a little flush rising on the soft curve of her neck. “Dan and I, um… we went out a couple of times a few years ago.”
“Ancient history that went nowhere, of course,” Dan laughs. “Funny to think about it now.”
“Right,” Cassie says. “Funny.”
“We should get a drink and catch up. You free now? I’m in town for a few days, and there are a few job openings in New York that I’d like to tell you about. You might be perfect for one of them.” He glances over at me. “You’re obviously welcome too, Cole. Big fan.”
“You already said that,” I say through more than slightly gritted teeth. “Anyway, I need to go hit the showers.”
“Sure,” Cassie smiles at Dan. “Let’s go talk business.”
I clear my throat, suddenly pathetically desperate not to leave Cassie alone with this guy if I can help it. “But—yeah,” I say. “I’ll meet you after for a drink. After that.”
Cassie looks surprised, but Dan just grins and slaps me on the shoulder—to which I glare at him, which goes unnoticed. “Great. See you later, man.”
I walk off toward the locker room, already calculating just how fucking quickly I can shower and change after Coach’s post-game rant.
Fast. It should be fast. Because I know I’m not Cassie’s present. But something tells me this guy’s version of ancient history isn’t quite dead and buried.
And hey, maybe it’s the shot blocking goalie in me.
But fuck if I don’t want to get in the way of that.
It’s not weird. I’m not being an asshole. I’m not crashing anything. The guy invited me.
That’s what I’m reminding myself in a loop as I walk into the bar two blocks down from the arena.
I push through the door and immediately feel underdressed in my sweatpants and fresh workout top.
Not that I really give a fuck about not living up to the standard of some random cocktail bar.
But it pisses me off that this is the sort of place Dan chose.
Low lights, plink-plunking jazz drifting out of the speakers, low leather couches draped in couples. Including—
I spot them.
And it’s cool. It’s fine.
Cassie is just in this dimly lit romantic cocktail bar with the pretty boy agent she used to date.
See? Absolutely fucking fine.
I realize I’m gripping my bag so hard my knuckles are white and let go. Okay. Maybe not so fucking fine.
“Cole!” Dan says, standing up to shake my hand a second time. “You came.”
“Yep,” I reply. “You invited me.”
“Hey,” Cassie says with a wide smile. “How was Coach’s debrief?”
I take a seat on the couch opposite them, separated by a low glass table. “Thankfully short. Though he got really into Sun Tzu over the holidays and gave us all copies of The Art of War.”
Dan raises his nearly empty glass of whiskey. “Whatever he’s doing, it’s working. New England’s looking much stronger this year.”
I order a drink, and we lapse into some small talk about the season so far.
And it’s surprisingly okay. Maybe I’ve got this all wrong. Maybe I’m being a paranoid asshole who doesn’t want Cassie with any other guy, even though I can’t have her, even if she did want me.
But then Cassie stands to go use the restroom, and I notice how Dan’s eyes rapidly drop to her ass as she walks away. A burning feeling rises in me.
“You two seem friendly,” Dan says without taking his eyes off her disappearing figure.
“We are. Well, I mean—my agent is her boss. He has her working with me this season.”
He sounds like he couldn’t be less interested. “Do you know if she’s seeing anyone?”
Huh. My bullshit alarm starts ringing in my ears. I don’t like the way this guy is sniffing around.
“Don’t know,” I lie with a shrug. “So, what’s this opportunity?”
He downs the rest of his whiskey, makes a face as he peers at me. “Opportunity?”
“The job you mentioned. At your agency.”
“Oh. Well.” He grins; it’s slimy. I’ve been lucky in my career to work with a good group of guys in the Nor’easters. But I sure as shit know that pro sports attract a lot of scumbags, and a darkening feeling in my chest tells me that one of them is sitting across from me.
“Is there a job?” I ask coldly.
“I work at one of the biggest sports agencies in the country. I’m sure there are jobs. Will be jobs. You know, whatever.” Dan shrugs, leans in a little closer like I’m his bro he can share his dirt with. “Cassie’s always been an ambitious kind of gal. All depends on… how much she wants it.”
He grins at me, and I want to smash this overpriced zero percent beer straight into his fucking jaw.
“I’ll say this to you once,” I mutter, my voice more of a growl, “that better not fucking mean what I think it means—”
But Cassie reappears before I can continue my barely veiled threat.
“I should head out,” Dan says, rising to his feet. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, Cassie?”
“Tomorrow,” she confirms with a smile.
He stands, dragging his eyes away from Cassie long enough to wave a hand at me. “Cole. Good to meet you. Big—”
“Fan,” I grunt. “Yeah, I got it.”
When he’s gone, I move over to sit down next to Cassie on the couch. “Listen to me. Don’t go meet up with Dan again.”
She turns to me, confusion coloring her face. “Why not? We’re going to discuss a role at his agency. I think this could be good for me, Cole. I love working for Rick most of the time, but I don’t know if I have a future at Legacy Sports.”
“He’s just trying to fuck you,” I blurt out.
Okay, I could’ve probably phrased that in a more delicate way.
Great goddamn job, Cole.
Cassie blinks once before her happy expression turns to outrage. “What did you just say to me?” she asks quietly.
“He’s a slimy bastard, Cassie. How can you not see that?”
“A man offers to discuss a job with me, and you think the only reason for that is that he wants to sleep with me? Maybe he just thinks I have potential that’s not being fulfilled. Babysitting a goalie all season wasn’t exactly on my list of dream career goals.”
A tangle of frustration and guilt tugs at my chest. The last thing I want in the world is to hurt Cassie’s feelings. To make her think I don’t believe in her.
“Cassie, you know that’s not what I think. Hell, you could take Rick’s job, and I’m sure you’d be incredible at it. It’s just this guy is trying to exploit how much you care about your career.”
“And why do you think that?”
I frown. “He said—he said it depends on how much you want it.”
She stares at me. “So? He probably just meant that it’s a competitive field.”
I grit my teeth. I’m not getting my point across. “You didn’t hear how he said it. He asked if you were single.”
Her expression falters. I think I’ve got through to her, but then her face twists.
“Is this because I went on a few dates with him? Because that’s not the situation here. We kissed once two years ago, and it fizzled out, and then he moved to New York. That doesn’t mean he’s trying to get me into bed now.”
I feel a weird mix of relief and irritation. They only ever kissed. Nothing more. But still, I’ve got the image in my head of that asshole touching Cassie, and it sets my teeth on edge.
“Maybe he’s your type. Fine. But he’s not a good guy.”
She pauses. “My type?”
“He’s an agent. A businessman. Someone from your side of the business. Not mine.”
Maybe she wants someone slick and smooth, not someone like me.
“Why are you acting like this?” she asks.
“Acting like what?”
“Siding against Dan. Assuming he’s some creep trying to use me. Like what, are you jealous?”
We both freeze. Cassie bites her lip hard, as if she’s mad at herself for saying that.
“Jealous?” I repeat flatly. “You think I dislike him because I’m jealous?”
“I didn’t mean—I’m shouldn’t have said that—”
I want to protect Cassie from this scumbag.
But at the same time, I am jealous. So jealous I can’t think straight.
We both know there’s something here between us.
But it’s too much—too complicated to have it out there spoken aloud.
I can’t handle it. Can’t handle how raw and cut open my chest feels.
“You’re my agent’s employee,” I say. “You were sent to babysit me. Why would I be jealous?”
“Cole, wait—”
But I rise to my feet, and start walking away. I turn back for a second. “Don’t go meet up with him, Cassie. I’m serious about that. I care about you too much to see you get let down.”
I walk out of the bar into the cold night air.