42. Maverick
FORTY-TWO
“Whose idea wasit to come here on our day off?” I look around the lobby of the fancy workout studio. “We already do plenty of stretching.”
“Pilates isn’t just about stretching. It has other benefits,” Hudson answers, balancing on one foot. “It helps with muscle control and flexibility. It can also increase your lung capacity and helps your concentration.”
“What the hell are you, a pilates spokesperson?” I hold on to the wall and stretch my hamstring. “Is this one of those pyramid schemes? Blink twice if you need help, Hud.”
“He’s being a good friend,” Emmy chimes in, and she fixes her ponytail high on her head. “Lexi just got certified, and what better way to show she’s an incredible instructor than by bringing DC’s hockey boys to her first class?”
“Lexi should get paid more for being an athletic trainer. Then I wouldn’t have to support her while wearing tights,” Liam grumbles, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. It’s a good thing we’re the only ones here, otherwise his pissy attitude would turn away any potential clients.
Piper tilts her head. “They aren’t tights, Liam. They’re leggings, and there is a big difference between the two. I thought you’d prefer them to the big pads you wear on the ice. These let you move freely.”
“I’m comfortable in the pads. I feel like I’m showing off my dick in these. You can practically see my nuts.”
She looks him up and down. “At least it’s a nice dick.”
Liam, the man who could strangle someone with a flick of his wrist, fucking blushes. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and I’ve never heard him sound so sincere.
“This isn’t being recorded, is it?” I ask. “I did a hot yoga class once and it was terrible. I had to pay the lady five thousand dollars to delete the live stream so my downward dog pose wasn’t seen by a million people.”
“You’re going to be fine.” Emmy taps my arm and her fingers drag across my shirt. To anyone watching us, they wouldn’t be able to see the way her touch lingers on my shoulder. But I can feel her reluctance to pull away, and that makes me grin. “You’re probably going to be a pro, just like you are at everything else.”
“Nothing like an ego boost to start the day.”
“Don’t worry, Cap. Pilates is a breeze,” Grant says. He’s decked out in an athleisure outfit and looks like a total tool. “Lots of moms do it.”
Emmy lifts an eyebrow. “So, because moms do it, it’s easy?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, backtracking.
“How did you mean it?”
Grant looks at me, panic-stricken, and I shrug. “You did this to yourself, kid,” I say, and his cheeks turn dark red.
“Just… you know. It’s not black belt karate.”
Emmy hums, and I have to fight back my laughter at the wicked gleam in her eye. “We’ll see how you’re doing in thirty minutes. Do you know what pelvic floor muscles are?”
“Um. No. Should I?”
“This is going to be fun,” she says, turning to Piper and diving into a conversation about the pair of socks she’s holding up that look different from what the rest of us have on.
“Is it mean to say I hope Grant gets his ass handed to him?” I ask Hudson, and he grins.
“No. He needs to learn a little respect. You were the same way at that age.”
“I’m better now though, right?”
“Much better, Mavvy. And you didn’t show up in a matching tracksuit. That says something.”
“Hey, I have a question for you,” I say, dropping my voice low. “I want to get Emmy’s dad to the game in Detroit in a few days, and he uses a wheelchair. She said he’ll need some assistance in the arena, and I thought Duke might like to hang out with him. I bought a suite so they would be comfortable with plenty of space to stretch out. I wanted to run the idea by you before Emmy told her dad about the plans.”
“You’re doing all of this so her dad can watch her play?”
“He hasn’t seen her in a Stars jersey yet.”
Hudson rubs his jaw and stares at me. “You like her, don’t you?”
“Of course I like her. She’s our teammate. I like all of you.”
“I don’t mean like that, Maverick.”
I cut my gaze away. How do I tell him Emmy is all I think about? She’s the first thing on my mind when I wake up. At night, when she’s curled up next to me, I’m still thinking about her. I close my eyes, and she’s there.
I like her so much, it hurts when she’s not around. I’d do anything to make her happy, and when she smiles at me, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask.
“To some of the other knuckleheads? Not at all. But we’re best friends, Mav. I know that fight with her ex wasn’t just because you wanted to have a dick measuring contest. You were standing up for her because you care about her. More than you care about anyone else.”
“Yeah.” I run my thumb over my bottom lip, a smile starting there. “I like her a lot, and she likes me too.”
“Has Maverick Miller finally become a one-woman man?”
“I never thought this would happen, but here I am. Off the market and happy as fuck. We have a good thing going, and that’s why I’m doing all of this. It’s important to her, which means it’s important to me.”
Hudson grins, and he claps a hand on my shoulder. “No more one-night stands? No more collecting numbers from random women every time we go out? Times have changed. I’m happy for you, man, and I’m sure Duke would love to help. I just have to mention the word suite and he’ll be all for it.”
“Tell him his favorite son hooked him up. I don’t want you to get all the credit.”
“Boys,” Emmy calls out, and we turn our heads. “Do you want to socialize all day, or are you going to come and join us?”
There’s a weird pressure in my chest when I stare at her.
It’s almost like I can’t breathe, and it only gets worse the longer I look. The sensation expands behind my ribs and takes up all the space in my head. When her mouth curls into a small smile, it makes me wonder if she’s feeling it too.
“That’s your girl?” Hudson asks.
“Yeah.” I grin, and there’s an arrow lodged in my chest. “That’s my girl.”
“What the fuck?” I groan, throwing an arm over my face. “These should be called torture devices, not pilates reformers. It’s not natural to bend like this.”
“My abs have never hurt so badly.” Grant whimpers and rolls onto his stomach. The leather mat under him is stained with his sweat, and he’s more disgusting now than after a game. “This is cruel.”
“I swear to god I tore my hamstring doing those lunges. Who would’ve thought moving your leg out and back in would hurt so damn bad?” Ethan asks.
“I don’t see what the problem is.” Hudson puts his hands on his hips, and a bead of sweat rolls down his chest. He ditched his shirt before we started, and the fucker isn’t even breathing hard. “You lunge. You hold. You pulse. You repeat.”
“Says the suck-up who looks like he’s been going to classes for years,” I gasp, swallowing down a lungful of air.
“I have,” he says. “I also haven’t had an injury in my career. Call me a suck-up all you want, but my body loves me.”
“I actually hate you.” I groan again and climb off the machine. “Is there a hole in my shorts? I heard a rip during those leg lowers.”
“The only hole is the one in my heart. I’ve never been in so much pain.” Grant reaches for me, and I hold his hand. “Tell my sisters I love them, and don’t let Ethan take my Xbox X. Give it to charity.”
“All right.” Lexi claps, and I jump. “We’re going to get into side lying heel presses. We’ll start on our right, and I want you to remember to engage your core muscles.”
“We’re not done?” Riley is on the verge of tears, and somewhere behind me, someone sniffs. “We’ve been in here for hours.”
“It’s been thirty minutes,” Emmy says over her shoulder, and our eyes meet.
Her cheeks are red and her hair is damp. She also lost her shirt, and her bright-pink sports bra is distracting me.
Fuck,she’s beautiful.
She’s always beautiful, but when she’s showing off her athletic capabilities, she’s fucking gorgeous. Strong, fierce and determined. Reaching for a goal and going after it.
I’ve spent the entire class watching the way she moves her body. It’s exactly how she is on the ice—graceful and powerful. She did the positions that almost wiped out the rest of the team with ease.
“I’d prefer thirty minutes in hell over thirty more minutes of this.” I rub my legs and arms. Muscles I didn’t know existed are already aching, and I have no clue how I’m going to survive morning skate tomorrow. “Christ, Lexi. You’re going to create an army of soldiers.”
“Is it too much?” She frowns and looks around the room. Half the guys are sprawled out on the ground, and the other half have their hands on their knees, huffing and puffing. We’re all in the top one percent of body compositions and made of lean muscle that makes shoving someone into the boards easy, but we can’t keep up with the brunette who barely comes up to my chest. “I went too hard on you all, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t,” Seymour says, and besides Emmy and Hudson, he’s the least affected by the grueling workout. Even Piper looks like she’s struggling to stand. “We’re just weak as shit. This is cross training we should be incorporating into our routine. Maybe we can add it in once a week.”
“I take back everything I said. Emmy and Lexi, I’m sorry. This is not easy. In fact, this is the hardest thing I’ve done in my whole life. I’d rather spend an hour doing dryland training than sit here for fifteen more minutes,” Grant says. “But you know what? None of us are quitters, so we’re going to dig deep for another thirty minutes and finish this workout strong.”
“You really don’t have to.” Lexi pauses the music playing over the stereo system. “I don’t want to injure anyone so late in the season. Coach would be pissed at me.”
“You’re not going to injure us, Lex. We all know our bodies damn well, and if anyone is in actual pain, they’ll bow out.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, and Emmy nods.
“Positive. This is going really well, and your instructions are clear. You have Liam doing that mermaid stretch so well, it’s going to help when he’s in goal.”
Liam grunts in agreement. “True.”
“Okay. Tell me if you need a break, and we’ll stop.”
“Want to make a bet, pretty boy?” Emmy whispers, and the rest of the guys climb back on their machines.
“What are the terms, Red?”
“If you make it through the rest of the workout without stopping, you get to do whatever you want to me tonight.”
“And if I stop?”
“I get to do whatever I want to you tonight.”
“It sounds like I win either way.”
“Are you sure? I might want to tie your hands above your head. I might want to blindfold you too.”
I lean forward and give her a slow grin. Her breathing hitches, and I touch my thumb to her cheek. “Either way, I’m with you,” I murmur. “That’s a win in my book, and I think you like it when I win, Emmy girl.”
“Yeah.” Her throat bobs, and her eyes stay locked on mine. That pressure is back, and this time, I welcome it. “I think I do.”