Chapter 7 Adrian
ADRIAN
“Do you want both of us?”
This is the stuff dreams are made of, right? Two women asking me for a threesome.
The blonde coaxes a hand down my chest. Her friend, the brunette, is bolder, aiming her hand towards my crotch. And…
It does absolutely nothing for me.
My shoulders stiffen as I close my eyes briefly, trying to forget why. The last thing I need right now is to torture myself with thoughts of her.
The blonde calls my name. She’s doing that trick with her arms that plumps her cleavage together. “Take us home?”
I stare at them both—and stare some more, willing my cock to twitch. Really, any level of stirring works. I’ll even take half of a half of a semi. But no.
My dick could not fucking care less.
“Sorry, ladies.” I grin. “Not that I don’t want to say yes, but I’m babysitting my rookies tonight.”
I gesture at the VIP booth on the second floor, where a group of dancing guys wave down at us from over the railing.
The women can’t help but wave back. It’s exactly the reaction I was hoping for, because I’m already ducking away while they’re too distracted to notice.
Inside a dark club in Vancouver during our off-season, I was hoping nobody would recognize me. But when you’re the captain of the Vancouver Wings with an eight-figure salary…
You get recognized.
Not willing to risk getting stopped again, I head back to the VIP booth.
“Everything okay, Cap?” Kevin asks, a rookie whose facial hair hasn’t fully come in.
I fold my hands behind my head. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
Can they tell I’d rather be home, getting down and dirty with a large pepperoni pizza? And popping an allergy pill to cuddle my grouchy cat?
“Is it because of our last season?”
I freeze and pretend I didn’t hear him. I don’t want to talk about what happened to the Vancouver Wings.
How we lost Emmad and Matt, two first-line offensive players, to injuries. That we haven’t been the same since. The chemistry’s gone. We’re out of sync on the ice, and that’s why we didn’t even make the playoffs last season.
It was humiliating for that to happen to a team like ours, and Coach Forrester is pissed. Rightfully so, since the General Manager is breathing fire down his neck for results.
I know if we don’t at least make playoffs next season, management is going to stick their fingers into our roster to find a solution. No one’s contract is safe. The team will get shuffled around and players will be traded.
I can’t let that happen. I have to keep us together.
As captain, it’s my responsibility to piece us back together. I’ve spent most of this off-season trying to figure out how..
The pressure to always ooze confidence sits hard on my shoulders, so I lift my drink. “I’m not worried! Next time, we’re going all the way to the finals!”
“Yeah!” Nick raises his beer.
Ahmed clinks it with his bottle.
That starts a chain reaction. We’re all clinking glasses and shouting cheers.
When Kevin gets to me, he shakes his head. “I still can’t believe you’re here tonight. Everyone thought you’d be overseas playing for Team Canada instead.”
My grin doesn’t slip, but my stomach coils tighter. Lokhov and Quinn are competing for Team Canada at the World Hockey Championship right now. As one of the leading scorers in the league, I was invited to play alongside my teammates.
I turned the offer down.
No one knows why.
Since I have a feeling these rookies are seconds away from asking, I shoot back up to my feet. “Okay, what’s the plan? Because if you are ready to call it a night, there’s a limo outside that can drop you all home.”
They stare at me like I’ve grown five sets of eyes, clearly distraught.
“We want to go meet some women,” declares Kevin.
The others high-five him in agreement.
And that’s how I’m huddled around my rookies at one in the morning, in the middle of a noisy club, yelling at them.
“What’s consent?” I point to Ahmed.
“Ongoing!” he rushes out.
I point to Nick next.
He yells, “Enthusiastic!”
Then I point to Kevin. He stammers, “O-Only a yes means yes. A coerced yes isn’t a yes!”
“Awesome, and if any party has drank beyond their limit, then—”
“They can’t give consent,” everyone shouts together.
I clap my players on their shoulders. Because this might be obvious and the absolute fucking minimum, but it’s my duty to reinforce what the Wings represent, and it’s our duty as men to hold each other accountable.
It’s why, as captain, I’ve promised to take every rookie out myself when they turn nineteen, the legal drinking age in Vancouver.
It’s why I’m here, instead of watching more game tape at home tonight like I’ve been doing for weeks now.
“But how do you get women to talk to you?” The tops of Kevin’s cheeks are turning red. ”I would love some tips.”
“Be a professional hockey player,” Nick answers quickly. “That helps.”
“Buy them gifts,” adds Ahmed.
“Nope.” I crook my finger and wait for the rookies to crowd in. “The quickest way to a woman’s heart,” I say, watching them lean forward, “is to treat them like they’re also human beings, and to make them laugh.” I smirk. “But what Nick and Ahmed said also doesn’t hurt.”
“It also doesn’t hurt to look like you, right?” Ahmed points out.
“True,” I say, grinning while running a hand through my gorgeous hair. “But everyone is handsome as fuck in their own way, so go out there and be brave!”
Our VIP booth is on the second floor of an open-pit warehouse. You can look over the railing and scope out the dance floor, but you have to go downstairs to be in the middle of the action.
I nudge them towards the stairs, like a proud mama bird knocking her babies off a cliff, so they can learn how to fly on their own. It’s the weekend, so the place is packed. Conversations won’t be easy, but they can bring any guests back up to our booth where it’s a bit quieter and more secluded.
Ahmed lingers behind, while the others leave. “You’re not coming down with us?”
“Naw, I’ll wait here.”
“Why?”
“Just…‘cause.”
“Oh. You must have someone you’re already taking home, right?”
“Yup,” I lie.
“Is it those two women who were asking you for a threesome?”
Before I can answer his question, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Without checking the caller ID, I persuade Ahmed to join the others. When he’s gone, I’m ducking towards the exit. On the way out, I quietly slip a bouncer some money, so he can watch over my guys while I’ve stepped outside.
In the alleyway, the blaring music from the club is replaced by the infrequent honks of city traffic. The air is humid and smells like the shawarma place down the street. Delicious spices and grilled meat. I take a deep breath before pulling out my phone.
I assumed it was my PR agent calling again, insisting I release a statement to the press, telling the world why I’m not playing for Team Canada at the World Hockey Championship, putting to rest all the absurd rumors flying around.
Or a call from one of my sisters. All six of them have different things going on, from a house sink being backed up (I sent a plumber last night) to needing a co-signer for a condo (I signed the paperwork a few days ago) to wanting opinions on a new boyfriend (I’m arranging a lunch to meet him).
It could also be my niece, wanting to tell me all about the science camp she just came back from.
But it’s a video call from Quinn.
My head drops, muscles shaking with excitement because even though he’s only been gone a few weeks, I’ve fucking missed him…until I remember he hates video calls.
I think it’s because he doesn’t like to see his face reflected back at him.
Quickly, I accept the call. His face pops onto the screen. Quinn’s dark eyebrows have come together.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I might need some help, maybe…”
Instant panic spikes inside me. “What’s going on?”
“You don’t have to say yes.”
“Of course I’m going to say yes.”
“It’s not about me.”
Suddenly, I can’t breathe properly. “Wait. Is it…?”
I can’t even say her name.
Quinn guesses and sighs. “Yeah. It’s…Sonya.”
It doesn’t matter that I barely see her anymore. That even when I do, she’s gone a few minutes later. How the last time we spoke more than two sentences to each other was a chance encounter six months ago on a park bench.
I asked her out, and she turned me down.
None of that matters right now.
Because if she’s in trouble, nothing is keeping me away.