Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Noel
I wish I could go back in time—even last week would do. I’ve had it with the barrage of messages in my social media inboxes.
At first, I responded to most of them, saying thanks. But what do you say in response to a video from a stranger who tears open her flimsy shirt to reveal her bare breasts, then shakes them?
I’m not offended. Not by the photos, or the newest trending hashtag on the videos of me—#putyourpoleinallmyholesnoel.
I’m just fucking annoyed. Stanton isn’t with us as we head out for our next road trip, and he’s out for at least six weeks.
There’s also a situation with my daughter, Audra.
I’ve got bigger things on my mind than women who find my scowl attractive.
I can’t help glaring at Jules when we lock eyes as she’s walking to the back of the plane to sit by Talia.
“I’m not your favorite social media coordinator anymore, am I?” she says lightly.
“Get people focused on something else,” I bark. “Anything else.”
“Please,” Talia says from the seat in front of mine. “I can’t even go online without seeing posts from women who want to get freaky with my dad. It’s gross.”
I frown at that. “I’m forty-seven, not eighty-seven.”
“You’re my dad. Some woman posted a video last night of her wearing underwear with a puck inside, hoping you’ll come hit it.”
Jules cringes and laughs at the same time. “Sorry about that. I had no idea videos of him yelling and scowling at players would elicit this response.”
“Do I need to start smiling? If that’ll make it stop, I’ll smile every damn second of the day.”
Jules arches a brow, looking skeptical. “Will you, though? I’m not sure your smiling muscles are up for that much use.”
Someone snickers from nearby. I clamp my teeth down on my tongue to keep myself from threatening to take Jules over my knee and spank her for her smart mouth.
Goddamn, would I enjoy that. I’d do it slowly, running my palm over the warm handprint on her ass and letting my fingertips dip farther between her thighs each time. She’s always so polished and poised; I want to reach the raw, untamed side of her and make her whimper for gratification.
“Seriously, though, I’d love to interview you on camera about your reaction to all of it,” she says. “Think about what you want to say.”
“I’m not acknowledging it. That’ll only make it worse.”
Bash laughs from a few rows in front of us, standing as he stows his bag in an overhead compartment. “So anything you say will just make them want you more, Coach? Love the confidence.”
I narrow my eyes. His smile slides away.
“Let’s just have fun with it,” Jules says lightly. “We can do an our coach is hotter than your coach thing.”
“Have you seen Antoine Dumond, though?” Melina quips from the other side of the aisle. “I mean, love ya, Coach, but Dumond is tough to look away from.”
“Traitor!” one of the guys calls out from the front of the plane.
I groan. Everyone on this plane has apparently invited themselves into this conversation.
“We’ll talk about this later,” I tell Jules, putting on my headphones to watch film.
At least I’m planning to watch film. Soon. First, I open Instagram and check Jules’s profile. There’s a new video there, and I click on it.
“Hey, you guys. Winter is approaching, and we’ve got a stomach bug in the house to prove it.
I’m not sick yet, so here’s hoping I get spared.
I have Kiss My Sass’s new moisturizing gel, and I’m going to try it out.
” She pushes down on the pump of the small bottle.
“First off, love the packaging. My nighttime skincare routine is already long, and since I’m turning thirty next month, it’ll only be getting longer.
I love products that save me time unscrewing and screwing lids.
” She pumps a couple drops onto her fingertip and then touches the index fingertip of her other hand.
“Okay, let’s see how this goes on ... it feels really good.
Light and a little cool. Refreshing. It doesn’t seem oily, which I like. ”
Her hair is held back by a terry cloth headband, and her skin has a clean glow.
When she’s finished applying the stuff to her face, she smiles at the camera.
“Okay, we’ll see how it does from here and I’ll update you.
Don’t forget to drink your water and take your vitamins; your skin will thank you. See you soon.”
She’s almost thirty. Younger than I thought, but still too young for me.
So beautiful, though. And her voice. I could listen to her talk about anything. No one can know how I really feel about her. The outwardly ambivalent and stern way I treat her is all an act. Every time I see her, I want her just a little bit more. I’m not sure how much more I can take.
“Evening, sir. What can I get you?”
“Macallen. Rocks.”
The bartender nods and walks away, polishing the last drops of water from a lowball glass with a towel. I’m glad he didn’t try to make conversation, because I’m definitely not up for it.
We lost tonight, 5–1. The combination of Carter being out and Isaac having an off night did us in. Isaac is a great goaltender, but his one weakness is that once a game starts to spiral, he lets it get to him. I gave the boys a halfhearted ass chewing and left it at that.
It’s a major shake-up, losing Carter. Lundgren took his spot in the first line, and he played as well as could be expected given the circumstances. It hurts not being at home, where he could practice with Bash and Leo in his downtime.
My drink is delivered and I take a sip. It goes down easy. This is my drink of choice for both celebrating and commiserating.
I check my phone. No new texts from Audra. I hope that’s a good sign, but who the fuck even knows. Of my four kids, she’s the least predictable.
When I glance to my left, a man a few barstools over gets up to leave, and I get a look at the very end of the bar.
Jules is sitting there alone, a full drink in front of her. She’s staring at it, looking lost in her thoughts.
Her honey-colored hair is loose around her shoulders and she’s wearing leggings and a hoodie.
I return my focus to my own drink, but I can’t help myself from looking at her again. Her usual smile is gone. She has her folded arms resting on the bar, and she’s just looking at the drink.
She sighs softly and reaches out, wrapping her hand around the glass. For a few seconds, she seems to contemplate picking the glass up, and then she moves her hand away from it.
The last thing I should do is go down there and talk to her. I played along with her interview earlier and said I haven’t been paying much attention to the social media noise about me. That was work; I have to interact with her sometimes.
But this is downtime. When we don’t have to fly out immediately after a game and we stay at a hotel, everyone is on their own. Most everyone is too tired to do much, but the option is there.
We’re flying out early tomorrow, headed from Tampa to Vancouver. I should finish this drink and go to bed. Maybe give Audra a call, even though it’s late.
Instead, I pick up my drink and move from my stool, walking down to the end of the bar where Jules sits alone.
“May I?” I gesture at the empty seat next to her.
A light-pink shade flushes over her cheeks. “Of course, Coach. Noel.”
I sit down on the high-backed barstool. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nope. I’m worried about a sick kiddo at home.”
My brows arch with surprise. I didn’t realize her sick household member was her own child. “Boy or girl? Or do you have more than one?”
Her brows pinch together in a momentarily puzzled look. “Oh, no. I don’t have kids. I have two nephews. My sister’s boys. We live together.”
“How old are they?”
“Eli’s seven and Coop’s five. Coop’s the sick one.”
“Stomach bugs are a bitch. How long has he been down?”
She sighs softly. “This is day two. My sister is a single mom and she’s in nursing school, so our babysitter is tag teaming with her today instead of me.”
I didn’t know it was possible to be so close to someone and still ache to be closer. It’s all I want—to lean closer, kiss her, and invite her back to my room.
Clearing my throat, I reach for my drink and take a sip. I thought Jules was a confident, beautiful woman who loves clothes, makeup, hair, and social media. Now that I know she’s also devoted to her sister and two young nephews, I’m sinking even deeper into my attraction to her.
It’s like quicksand—it can’t end well, and yet I can’t get myself out of it.
“And you feel guilty about it,” I say, looking at the ice cubes in my glass.
“I do. Coop’s little voice saying, ‘Lay with me, Aunt Jules,’ is just on repeat in my head.”
“You could have stayed home, you know. We really mean it when we say family first in this organization.”
“I know, but being new and still trying to prove myself ... I guess I wanted to play it safe.” She wraps her hand around her glass again, lifting it this time. “Are you still pissed at me over becoming the internet’s new favorite DILF?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I’m not pissed at you. You didn’t do it on purpose.”
She turns her body closer to mine just a little, setting down her glass without taking a drink from it. “I’m intrigued by you not liking it. I don’t know any man who doesn’t like women thirsting over him, even if they’re gay.”
“I’m not gay, but I’m twice divorced.” I raise my glass to my mouth and tip it, surprised to find I’m already down to the last few drops.
She leans closer, speaking softly. “I’m not sure if you realize this, but those women don’t want to marry you. They have something more temporary in mind.”
Fuck. It has to be the scent of her light, sweet perfume making me lightheaded, because I’ve only had one drink. I glance over at her glass and ask, “Is your drink not good?”
She glances at it. “It’s a long story.”
“Do you want something else?”
“No, thanks.”
I raise my glass and shake it slightly, getting the bartender’s attention.
“What about you?” she asks. “Is it losing Carter that’s keeping you from sleeping?”
I shake my head. “Same as you. Family stuff.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
I shrug. “My daughter Audra is my long story. You probably know about her and the guy she married.”
I can’t bring myself to call Kyle her husband—or my son-in-law.
“Yeah, Talia told me.”
The bartender sets a fresh glass of scotch in front of me and I nod my thanks.
“Audra and Kyle had a big fight. Audra is staying with a friend. It’s hard to tell over the phone just how bad it is, but if she left the house, I’m guessing it’s pretty bad.
I want to get on a plane just so I can look at her and see if he put his hands on her. ”
“Oh, Noel.” The sound of my name on her lips makes my dick stir to attention. “That’s tough. I’m sorry.”
“Talia knows, but don’t tell anyone else, please.”
“Of course not.”
I turn to look at her, letting my eyes linger. “Women online see a guy with a good career and some money, but they don’t know who I am. I’m a son of a bitch sometimes.”
A smile dances on her lips. “Are you, though? I’m not seeing it.”
“Maybe you haven’t been around me enough yet.”
Her teeth graze over her lower lip. “Are you saying we should spend more time together?”
I’m on dangerous ground. But we’re in a public place—it’s not like I can toss her onto the bar and fuck her here and now.
“It might make for a smoother working relationship. What do you think?”
Even her smirk is sexy. “I think smooth is overrated. I like rough better.”
Oh, hell. I’m fully hard now. My free hand twitches with the urge to touch her as I take another sip of my drink. “You’re pretty uninhibited for a woman who hasn’t had a sip of that drink.”
“All I got from that is that you think I’m pretty.”
I smile and blow out a breath. “A ten, remember?”
“I do.”
I shake my head and finish my drink in a faster, longer gulp than I’d like, setting the glass down on the bar. “You’re a workplace hazard, Jules. Good night.”
“Not going to offer to walk me to my room?” Her gaze slowly moves from my face down, stopping at my crotch.
“I think we both know that’s not a good idea.”
She looks like she’s about to say something, but instead she looks down at her glass. I hate the disappointment that flickers over her face. If I could, I’d put my hands on her waist and lean in to kiss her neck and whisper my room number in her ear.
“Good night, Noel.”
Her voice is neutral again. Not sultry and playful, but not angry either. It takes all my willpower to turn and walk away.
I want her. Christ, do I want her. But I’m in a position of power over this team, and indirectly, her.
I never, ever would, but I could make her work environment uncomfortable.
And that’s just one of the reasons I can’t cross a line with her.
Even though I want to, so badly my chest aches as I get farther away from her.