Chapter 2
DEVON
Holy fuck.
Just…holy fuck.
Practice flew by in a blur. When Amy said that the team would run the practice as normal, that had already thrown me for a loop.
This was my first time on the ice with this team.
Fortunately, Gards had sort of taken me under his wing as both my D partner and our alternate captain.
He made certain I was in the right place at the right time, and the rest, I could pick up thanks to years of experience with different coaches.
The actual drills were pretty straightforward, and it all flew by.
I quickly found my groove with Gards; we were going to be unstoppable together.
Though the forwards were kind of a mixed bag—some belonged in the big leagues, others probably didn’t even belong at this level—I could work with anything, and we made it through our drills.
Some were a bit choppy and clumsy. As a team, our timing would take, well, time to develop.
There was a ton of raw potential here, and I could already tell that with some solid coaching, we could be contenders.
My heart ached for the team I’d left behind, Toronto’s minor league affiliate in Brampton.
I’d be eternally grateful I’d been traded to the Abbotsford Grizzlies, though.
At least I got to stay in Canada. Even though British Columbia was practically on the other side of the country.
Toronto felt a million miles away, and I longed to call my old D partner.
He was moving on, though. Literally. He’d given up hockey a long time ago and he’d met a girl, and they were planning a life together.
Old teammates sometimes couldn’t compete with new love.
“We’re going for a beer at The Trading Post.” Claus nudged my shoulder, pulling me out of my reverie and into the present. “It’s not far from here. You want to ride with me or bring your car?”
At least you weren’t thinking about the best lay you’d ever had.
Right. That thought brought me right back to fuuuuuck.
“My car’s not here yet. If you don’t mind giving me a lift and bringing me back? I’m still figuring Abbotsford out. Shouldn’t be tough, eh?” Practically minuscule in comparison to Toronto’s millions of residents.
“Sure.” Claus grinned with a boyishness I found endearing. “When does your car arrive?”
“Uh, soon? I got the call for the trade and was on the move immediately. I still need to find a place to live.”
“Yeah. Rental market’s tight out here, but someone from the team will help you out. Nice hotel you’re staying in, eh?”
“Eh? You’re sounding like a Canadian.” With Claus, I didn’t have to force a smile.
He was American and so damn friendly. He’d been the first to greet me and now, obviously, was being extra friendly.
“The hotel’s really nice.” With plush carpet, so when you force your future coach to his knees, you’re less worried about him injuring himself.
Or the king-sized beds that make fucking him into the mattress super easy. Jesus. The images in my mind.
“Yeah, I stayed at that hotel as well. Was really glad to nab an apartment near the rink. A couple of us are in that building. Hopefully, you can stay there as well.”
“You invite the new guy for beers?” Anty slapped me on the back. His grin wasn’t quite as youthful as the one Claus delivered. The couple of times I’d caught Anty’s gaze, I’d sensed a depth to him. Something beneath the jovial exterior.
“Of course he’s coming.” Lous sauntered over. The Black man was our captain and first line left winger, and man, from what I’d seen, he knew how to get the puck into the net. He was just a couple of inches shorter than me. Not quite as muscular—but then he wasn’t slamming opponents into the boards.
“Can’t wait,” I said. “I’d love a beer.”
Claus slapped me on the back as well, giving me a sense of camaraderie. “We’ll meet you guys over there.”
With that, everyone took off. I followed Claus closely. “Is, uh, everyone coming?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s an open invitation. You’re not the only new teammate, of course. Kulie and Sirs just got here, too. You being in the top pair makes you the most interesting newcomer, though.”
I wasn’t certain what he meant by interesting. In fact, I wasn’t certain I wanted to know. Still, I happily slid into his SUV, and he was soon pointing us, according to him, northward.
“Abbotsford’s not too big. Bigger population than the small town I came from in Nebraska.”
I racked my brain, but couldn’t come up with an adequate response. I’d barely heard of Nebraska. They didn’t have a hockey team—that much I was certain of. “I’m from the Big Smoke. Grew up in Toronto. I’m used to the go big or go home mentality.”
“Toronto, eh?” He started up a big hill. “Yet you’ve got a French accent. I mean, that is French, right?”
“Quebecois, yeah.” I grinned. Then the grin slipped. Fortunately, Claus couldn’t see. “My mom was from Quebec. She raised me, and I just absorbed the accent. Took a lot of shit from my classmates—until I got top grades in all my classes. French was the best, of course.”
“Were you in that, what, French immersion program? Tori—she’s our video coach and also Amy’s wife—was saying her niece and nephew are in the program. I mean, I don’t know what they need French for out here. I meet lots of Indians, a few Chinese, and other people, but no Frenchies.”
I laughed. “It’s a Canadian thing. If you manage to speak the two official languages, you can sometimes get a leg up. These days, though, any second language helps.” I noted the McDonald’s. “Well, except Latin.”
“Oh, yeah. Nothing like a dead language. You speak anything other than French and English?”
“Nope. That kept me busy enough.” I considered for a long time before continuing. “I studied French literature at U of T. Well, part-time. Hockey always came first, you know?”
“French Lit at the University of Toronto?” He slid into the right-turn lane and, when traffic was clear, executed the turn. “Okay, that I didn’t see coming.”
I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see. “I don’t exactly go around sharing that with everyone. I mean, most people would be bored hearing me discuss Honoré de Balzac, Simone de Beauvoir, and Victor Hugo.”
Claus snapped his fingers. “Yeah, but haven’t I heard of Hugo?
Here we are.” He pulled into a strip mall, and I spotted the sign for The Trading Post in a stand-alone building.
He parked, cut the engine, and gazed at me.
“I don’t have to tell anyone. But I think it’s cool.
And one day you’re going to tell me what else you’re hiding. ” He winked and got out of the SUV.
Oh shit. He couldn’t possibly know about my proclivities.
About the fact that I fucked our coach last night.
Or that it’d been the best lay…of my life?
I tried to quell the panic rising. He couldn’t know.
As for the best lay of my life, since I hadn’t done much sleeping around, I didn’t have a bevy of guys to compare Coach to.
I certainly had never been…so aggressive so quickly into a hookup.
I’d updated my profile on the app when I got here.
Despite being a religious town—or maybe because of it—I’d hoped I could get some action.
In retrospect, picking a guy at the same hotel had been a monumental mistake.
I got out of the SUV.
Rizz, one of our forwards, and Pells, another D-man, greeted us as we stepped into the bar.
“We’re upstairs.” Rizz gestured with his chin. “I like it here.”
“Yeah, they don’t mind when we get loud.” Claus nudged me.
Obligingly, I headed toward the stairs, and we all tromped up. I was sore from practice—but nothing I couldn’t handle.
I hope Coach is feeling sore in all the right ways.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I couldn’t believe that thought had flashed through my mind.
Because, dammit, I didn’t need to know whether Coach’s ass was sore.
Or whether his butt was bruised. I hadn’t spanked him too hard, so no bruises should be showing.
I’d asked him about marks, and he’d made it clear below the neck was fine and to leave his arms alone as well.
Everything else was fair game. In the end, since it’d been our first time playing, I’d stuck to his ass. Well, and yanking his hair.
Grateful for the cover of the table to hide my crotch, I plonked down in the chair next to Claus. Because nothing like getting a boner while with teammates.
But man, when I remembered how Coach had moaned when I pulled his hair. Or how he’d deep-throated me when I’d shoved my cock into his mouth. Or the curve of his back as I’d scratched it while fucking him.
“Devs?” Claus nudged me and gestured to the server.
She wore a crisp white shirt and black slacks. She grinned, and that smile lit her hazel eyes. “I haven’t seen you with this crew before.”
“Uh, yeah. New trade.”
Her smile widened. “What position?”
“Defense.”
“You any good?”
Claus nudged me. “He’s the best, Caitlyn. He’ll be part of the reason we turn this team around.”
I cleared my throat. “Well, several guys were traded. And we have a new coach.”
“Yes, we’ve heard all about Coach Showalter.” She tapped her electronic pad. “Can’t wait to meet him.” She held my gaze. “What can I get you to drink?”
I wasn’t a huge beer fan. Well, any alcohol. But since I wasn’t driving, and I wanted to fit in, I’d do a couple tonight. “You’ve got a craft beer?”
“We have several. One’s from a local brewery.”
“Yes, please. That one.”
She cocked her head. “Accent?”
“Quebecois.”
“Yep, that’s what I would’ve guessed.” She pivoted her attention to Claus. “Best Coast IPA?”
He grinned. “You know me well.”
Exactly how well? The look they’re exchanging could combust wet wood.
“I’ll have an amber ale.” Pells was clearly trying to redirect Caitlyn’s attention. His French-Canadian accent was much stronger than mine—since he’d actually grown up in Quebec—while I just had a mother from there.
Her accent was pretty much all I had left of her. Okay, dwelling on Mom isn’t much better than obsessing over the best fuck ever. Right. Now both would have unique places in my mind.
Pells caught my gaze as Caitlyn moved down the long table. “?a va bien?”
“Pas pire.” To his inquiry about my general status, a not bad felt about right. Because word-vomiting my stress to any of these guys—no matter how kind they might appear—would be the second-biggest mistake of my life. The first, of course, being last night.
Jesus Christ, you have to think about something else. One-night stand. Over with. Never going to be repeated. Get over yourself.
Yeah, except I really wanted a repeat. I wanted nothing more than to—
“Coach,” Claus waved. “So glad you decided to join us. Didn’t have enough video replays to watch?”
The most amazing deep-brown eyes met mine. And the way the light hit his steel-gray hair? Much as it had last night—
“I debated. Just thought I would get to see everyone in a social setting. You’re right, usually I’m up to my neck in game prep.”
“Well, welcome. It’s great you’re here early enough to grab a seat.” Claus gestured to the one directly across from me. The only empty seat. I assumed the guys who arrived later would sit on the enclosed patio downstairs or something.
“If you don’t mind.” Coach grasped the back of the seat but didn’t sit. He clearly said the words to Claus, but his gaze held mine.
Slowly, I nodded.
Then tried to calculate the odds of slipping out without being noticed.
None, was the answer.
And now I’m about to make the second-biggest mistake of my life.
Shit.