6. Maverick
SIX
Puck Kings
Me
What is wrong with you all?
Connor
I didn’t do anything
Easy E
Neither did I. It was probably Grant.
G-Money
Fuck off. I’m innocent!
Connor
Yeah, right.
Me
Why didn’t anyone tell me Emerson Hartwell is a girl?
Hudson
*woman
Me
Fuck you.
Seymour
Who? What?
Liam
Why the hell am I still in this chat?
*Liam Sullivan has left the chat*
*Easy E has added Liam Sullivan to the chat*
*Liam Sullivan has left the chat*
*Easy E has added Liam Sullivan to the chat*
Easy E
You’re stuck with us, dude.
Liam
Goddammit.
Easy E
Is she hot, Mavvy?
Cap?
O Captain my Captain?
G-Money
WTF? Who leaves people hanging like that?
Easy E
This is literally worse of a cliffhanger than Back to the Future II.
The rooftop pool at Ryan Seymour’s apartment is packed with people, and I don’t recognize half of them. I squeeze past a group of girls who won’t stop giggling, and I give them a polite wave when they tug on my shirt.
My hamstrings are killing me, and I’ve been nauseous since I left the rink. The two bottles of Gatorade I chugged at my apartment didn’t give me any of my strength back, and I feel like I’m crawling through hell.
“Hey, Mavvy,” Grant Everett, our second line right winger, calls out from a pink pool float. A leggy blonde is next to him, and she has her hands on his chest. “You’re a little late.”
“Where’s Hayes?” I ask. He jerks his chin toward the dessert table, and I roll my eyes. “Shocking.”
I head over to Hudson. Just as he’s about to lift a brownie to his mouth, I knock it out of his hand.
“Hey,” he exclaims, turning to glare at me. “What’s wrong with you? You’re wasting food.”
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? When were you going to tell me Emerson Hartwell isn’t some guy from BU or Michigan or wherever the fuck she went to college, but a woman who’s been playing in the ECHL for years?”
Hudson snatches up another brownie and shoves half of it in his mouth. “Don’t blame me. It’s not my fault you didn’t watch the tapes Coach sent.”
“Did you watch the tapes?”
“Obviously.”
“Great.” I collapse onto a wicker lounge chair that probably cost Seymour, our left defenseman, two grand. “I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I fucked this up.”
“What did you think of her?”
An hour with Emerson Hartwell, and I don’t know if I should be turned on or pissed off by her talent. I grab a beer from the cooler to my right. I pop the top off and take a long sip.
“She’s something,” I say after a minute.
“Oh no.” Hudson sits next to me. Millie, his golden retriever, runs up and nudges his hand. He scratches behind her ears and sighs. “What did you do?”
“I might have called her a fan,” I admit. “Asked if she wanted to go back to my place and acted like a total douchebag.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did.” I rub my jaw and take another sip of my drink. “I mean, she was standing there looking hot as hell, and I?—”
“Not relevant to the story. Keep going.”
“She’s just as guilty—she talked shit about me to Coach. Went on about how I must not know how to lead a team, all because of a mix-up when I ran into her near Coach’s office—loitering without a visitor’s badge, I might add. I felt really stupid.”
“And you think she didn’t? She’s a female athlete who’s probably had to put up with that shit her entire playing career. The guy who’s supposed to be her new captain treats her the same way, and there wasn’t a lick of respect. I’d be pissed too,” he says.
“She could’ve told me who she was,” I argue.
“You could’ve watched the tapes instead of spending time with what’s-her-name last night,” he throws back. I hang my head because he’s right. “She’s a good skater, isn’t she?”
Gooddoesn’t begin to describe what I saw today.
Hartwell’s hockey skills are on a different planet, and I think I might be a little bit in love with her. I’ve never seen anyone play like that, and I have no fucking clue how she’s not already on an NHL roster.
She moves like a figure skater and has the strength of a weightlifter.
Her attention to detail is unmatched. I saw the way her eyes anticipated my defensive moves before I got into position, and I’m going to dream about the way she hits the puck until my dying days.
It’s effortless. Smooth like butter, and everything I adore about the sport.
I regret not watching those damn videos, because I would’ve shown them to my camp kids a few weeks ago. Given them a lesson on what hockey should look like, because she’s the gold fucking standard.
“Yeah.” I take a long pull from my beer. “She’s good.”
“Why is your face red?” Hudson asks. “Is Maverick Miller blushing?”
“I’m not blushing. I’m hungover, sore and tired. Leave me alone.”
I’m also distracted by the hot redhead who did, in fact, kick my ass on the ice. But I’m not going to tell him that. He’d give me shit, and I’ve taken enough punches today.
“The media is going to go wild when Coach makes the formal announcement after practice on Monday.”
“She’s feisty. She can hold her own.” I glance across the pool and watch my teammates. Six of them are playing chicken with women on their shoulders. The others are checking out Seymour’s new grill. They look like kids in a candy shop when he turns on a burner, and I hold back a laugh. “We’ll need to have a talk with the guys.”
“About what?”
“About not hitting on her and treating her with respect. Coach is going to be on our asses.”
“You hit on her,” Hudson points out. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”
“She rejected me.” I lift a shoulder and finish off my drink. “That was a first.”
He bursts out laughing and Millie startles, then howls along with him. “She did? Please tell me what she said.”
I groan and toss the empty beer bottle into a nearby recycling bucket. “‘The only thing I want to do with you, pretty boy, is kick your ass on the ice,’” I repeat, and I rub my hand across my chest. I can still feel the sting of embarrassment there. No one has ever turned me down before. “And then she did just that.”
“Oh, hell. I can already tell she’s going to be my new favorite person.”
“You’re not allowed to gang up on me.”
“Why not? It’s so much fun.”
I roll my eyes and scan the party, locking gazes with a woman. The yellow string bikini she’s wearing matches her hair, and she gives me a flirty crook of her finger. I know it’s an invitation, but that usual rush of adrenaline I get from interacting with a woman is noticeably absent.
“I’m going to head out,” I say.
“Are you taking that blonde with you? She hasn’t stopped checking you out since the minute you got here. I’m pretty sure she took a picture of your ass.”
“I have a nice ass.”
“As someone who’s forced to stare at it for significant stretches of time, I can confirm you do have a nice backside. Make sure to wrap it up,” he says, giving me the same lecture he gives all of us. “Be smart and don’t do anything that’s not consensual. You know the drill.”
“I do, but I’m out of whack. It’s not happening tonight.” I stand up and pat Millie’s head. She licks my hand, and I smile. “Besides, I told Dallas I’d babysit for him, and after today, nothing sounds better than watching a Disney movie with my niece.”
“Emerson did a number on you, didn’t she?” Hudson grins. “I’ve never seen you leave a party early, and especially not alone.”
“I don’t know what she did, but I don’t like it.” We knock knuckles, and I give him a nod. “Enjoy the weekend off, H. Come Monday, I think everything is going to change.”
“Honey, I’m home!” I call out when I walk into Dallas Lansfield’s apartment twenty minutes later.
“Uncle Mav!” June, Dallas’s daughter, shrieks as she runs down the hall. I lift her in my arms and spin her around. “I’m so glad you’re here. Can I paint your fingernails? Mommy got me a new polish.”
“Of course you can, June Bug.” I kiss the top of her head and hold her close to my chest. “How are you, princess? Did first grade treat you well today?”
“Lucas pushed me down at recess and Ms. Wilson put him in timeout.” June grins smugly. “When she wasn’t looking, I pushed him back.”
“That’s my girl. Proud of you, Squirt. Where are Mom and Dad? Did they leave you to steer this ship by yourself?”
“No.” She giggles. “They’re getting dressed. Daddy is wearing a tie and Mommy is wearing a dress. It’s very pretty.”
“Absolute knockouts, those two.” I walk down the hall and into the living room, plopping down on the couch and putting her in my lap. “How does pizza sound for dinner?”
“Pepperoni, please!”
“We’re definitely doing pepperoni.”
“Ice cream too?”
“Obviously, kid. Maybe we’ll eat ice cream before our pizza, and we won’t tell the bosses. It’ll be our secret,” I say.
“What will be your secret?” Dallas asks. He stands in the entryway in a gray suit, his hair slicked-back. “Don’t corrupt my daughter, Miller.”
I grin at my best friend of nearly a decade. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You look nice, man. Where are you going tonight? Somewhere with the Titans?”
Dallas is the kicker for the NFL team in town, a Super Bowl champion and one of the fans’ favorite athletes. He almost gave up his career when he became a single dad six years ago, but he found a woman who loves him and his daughter equally. He’s able to balance playing and parenting a lot easier now.
“Dance lessons. Maven is determined we learn the tango for our wedding reception, but I keep stepping on her toes.” He checks his reflection in the mirror and fixes his tie. “Then we’re going to dinner at a new French restaurant. She’s been craving macarons, and apparently this place is really good.”
“Craving, huh? Something you need to tell me?”
“Nope,” Dallas says. “Not yet at least.”
“Bummer. I’m counting down the days.” I stretch my arms out on the pillows and sigh happily. “Stay out as late as you want. We’re off until Monday, and I can take June back to my place if you two want to… you know.”
“You’re really pushing for this, aren’t you? Make one of your own,” he says.
“Nah. I like being Uncle Mav, and I need some more nieces. Maybe a nephew too. Enough kiddos so I can have a full hockey team.”
“Daddy? Can I skate with Uncle Mav?” June asks, and I grin victoriously.
“See? She already has it in her system. Bring her to Family Night at the arena and let me take her for a spin on the ice,” I say.
“Absolutely not,” comes from the hallway. Seconds later, Maven Wood, Dallas’s fiancée and one of my favorite people in the world, appears in the living room. “Our kid is not getting anywhere near a puck. Neither are any of the ones who might come after her.”
“Damn, Mae.” I look her up and down and whistle. “You are smoking.”
“Thanks.” She grins and spins in a circle to show off her dress. I’m used to seeing her in game day clothes and a beanie as our team’s official photographer, but the woman can pull off anything. “And speaking of smoking, I hear you got torched on the ice today.”
“Really?” Dallas’s gaze bounces between us. “I thought you were off today?”
“What the hell? None of my teammates know what happened yet, and I hope I can keep it that way,” I say.
“Word travels fast, Mav. Emerson is Piper’s new roommate, and Piper and I are close. She told me Emerson was beaming pretty brightly when she got home. I would too if I made Maverick Miller look like a scrub. And here I thought you were the highest paid athlete in the NHL.” Maven tosses her hair over her shoulder, and my mouth twists in irritation. “I guess not.”
“She did not make me look like a scrub.”
“Can someone fill me in? I don’t like being out of the loop,” Dallas says.
“Emerson is the Stars’ new left winger,” Maven explains. “She’s insanely talented. Gorgeous, too. A little rough around the edges, but I liked her from the five minutes I spent with her.”
“No wonder Miller is out of sorts. You know how much he loves an athletic woman,” Dallas says.
“That’s my fu—freaking dream girl,” I whine, making sure I don’t drop any f-bombs in front of June. “We had a horrible first meeting, and now I have to play next to her with my tail between my legs.”
“You do remind me of a dog,” Maven says.
“You look like one too,” June adds, and I blow a raspberry on her cheek.
“Pretty sure I wanted to bark when I saw her for the first time,” I say. “It’s fine. Everything’s going to be fine. I’m either going to charm the pants off of her so she has no choice but to like me, or I’m going to annoy her so much, she’s going to demand a trade.”
“Definitely a trade.” Dallas and Maven exchange a look. “Gorgeous, you said?”
“Oh yeah.” Maven nods and grabs a tube of lipstick from her purse. “Hottest woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Why does she have to be a hockey player? Why couldn’t I have met her in a bar? Or in an airport? Or at some charity gala where I could throw a million dollars at whatever environmental cause she’s passionate about so she’d fall in love with me?” I groan. “This is so unfair.”
“Your life is so difficult. Truly, I’m not sure how you get through the day,” Dallas says.
“Some best friend you are,” I huff. “I’m suffering here.”
“You’ll be fine.” He drapes his arm around Maven’s shoulder and brushes his lips across her forehead. “Ready, honey?”
“Hey. Knock it off you two. There are kids around,” I say, covering June’s eyes. “There’s a time and a place for that.”
“Yeah and you’re one of the kids.” Maven sticks out her tongue. “Maybe you’re jealous. You want what we have.”
I burst out laughing. “Christ, woman. You’ve lost your mind. That’s never going to happen. You know I enjoy staying out late with women I won’t see again and fu?—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence in front of my daughter.” Dallas glares at me. “Or I will break your fingers.”
“Sorry.” I hold up my hands in apology. “I’m keeping it G-rated from here on out. Starting with our date with Anna and Elsa. Are you ready, June Bug?”
“Yeah!” June lifts her arms in the air and cheers. “It’s time for Frozen!”
“Third time this week. Bring it on, snowman.”
I turn on the TV and lean back, letting June get comfortable, and I don’t think about Emerson the rest of the night.