7. Sonya
Sonya
N ick was a hockey player.
Of course Nick was a hockey player. Because the universe was a cruel and petty bitch, and she clearly found great amusement in my personal torment. I sat behind my desk with my hands folded like a professional, but on the inside? Screaming.
How I managed to keep my shit together in a room full of beautiful, half-naked, testosterone-filled men, I’ll never know. For once I was grateful I’d grown up around hockey players.
The moment Jade introduced me in the locker room, my stomach dropped.
I’d barely found my professional, distant smile and uttered hello to some of the players before some very naked man came strutting around the corner, cocky as hell and wrapped in nothing but a towel.
Water glistened on every perfect inch of him.
Every familiar perfect inch of him, actually.
And then he smiled. That slow, devilish, I-know-what-you-look-like-beneath-me smile.
Nick. My Nick.
Except he wasn’t mine. He was the team’s Nick. He was my father’s Nick.
One of his players.
I nearly dropped the tablet I’d clutched like a lifeline.
I held it together long enough to get through the rest of the introductions and shaking hands with each player.
I powered through the questions, the joking, and the teasing with my game face on.
I even kept a perfectly pleasant smile on my face when Brock Steele volunteered to be the first to stop by for a quick meeting.
But the second I closed the door to my office, I lost it.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I whispered to myself, bracing my hands on my desk and letting out a long, calming breath.
Of all the men in this entire province.
My dreams had been full of him. His strong arms wrapped around me. His full, kissable lips whispering filthy promises. That long, thick fun stick he used like a goddamn weapon. There was an entire portion of my brain dedicated to Nick and his gorgeous body.
I shivered just remembering now, days later.
Still, I was a professional dammit and when Brock knocked on my door two hours later, I waved him in with a polite smile.
I asked all the right questions about his career, his wife and his social media presence.
He was well-versed in the power of social media and only needed my help to add more Thunderhawks content into his posts.
Cal was at the other end of the spectrum and it wasn’t at all surprising given his age and his status as a single dad, at least until recently. “I can’t be bothered,” he said honestly as he squirmed in the seat across from me.
“I get it, but your profile has risen recently and more exposure could be good for you financially.” This was where I excelled, showing the players why this was so important.
“You think this will get me more money?”
I shrugged. “Look at Brock or even Simon. There’s plenty of money to be had, and with your growing family, every dollar counts. Right?”
“Fine,” he eventually sighed. “I’ll follow whatever plan you come up with, all I ask is that you be specific.”
I flashed a triumphant grin. “Absolutely. If you have questions, text or email me. Thanks, Cal.”
“No problem,” he said as he stood and made his way to the door. “Welcome to the loony bin.”
“Thank you.” I started to relax as the players each stopped by to flirt, to welcome me, to reluctantly share more of their personal lives with the hockey-loving world. I was impressed, even proud that thoughts of Nick had come in less frequently as I easily slipped into work mode.
I closed my eyes for a quick second though, and there he was. Naked in nothing but a smile and a cowboy hat, coaxing me onto my knees and telling me to take it . “Nope.” I pushed away from my desk and stood, shaking off those dirty thoughts because Nick Blaze was off-limits.
Completely and totally off-limits, and not because Dad said so.
Because he was a hockey player and I had no desire to make hockey my life again.
I told myself that over and over as the afternoon wore on, and I was thisclose to believing it.
Which was exactly when a knock sounded.
I looked up at the door and I already knew. Knew it deep down in my bones.
I gave myself a moment to get composed, smoothing a hand over curls I knew had turned wild about two hours ago before I stood, sliding a hand down my dress which was—thankfully—wrinkle-free. I sat up straighter in my chair and folded my hands on the desk in front of me. “Come in.”
The door open and there he was, Nick Blaze in all his super hot, long-haired, cowboy hat, snug jean, wearing glory.
There was a knowing smirk on his lips and a playful gleam in his blue eyes.
“Sonya. Hi.” The way he said my name, half-breathless and half-moan, sent all my thoughts of him being off-limits right out the window.
“Nick.” It was all I could manage with him standing there in the doorway backlit like a fallen angel.
“Sonya.” He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe like he had all day to hang out and wreck my carefully crafted self-control.
I had to keep the distance so I waved him inside. “Come in, Mr. Blaze.”
“Mr. Blaze?” His brows shot up before he shut the door behind him, turning to lean casually against it. “Formal. I like it.” That grin was the magic that sent my panties up in flames.
“I’m working.” I sat a little taller as if that would allow me some semblance of control. I crossed my arms and tried not to think about what he looked like beneath his jeans. Or in nothing but a towel.
His gaze raked over me slowly. “You look good working.”
I ignored the warmth that shot through me. “Is this a social media question or an attempt to flirt with your boss?”
His smile didn’t fade. It shifted, got more dangerous. “Why not both?” He pushed off the door and moved to the desk, planting his big palms on the wood before leaning in. “And who says you’re my boss?”
I stared back, keeping my expression neutral even though my insides were jelly. “I am your social media boss.”
His lips twitched. “I don’t mind bowing down to a woman,” he said, his voice laced with hidden meaning.
I ignored my racing heart and licked my suddenly dry lips. “What can I do for you, Nick?”
His eyes darkened at that, the air between us thick with unspoken things. “What do you want to do for me?”
Everything. But I blinked slowly and said, “Marketing strategy. Analytics. Reels. TikToks. Memes. Do you know what any of those things are?”
Nick grinned and pushed off my desk before falling into the chair across from me. “Nope.”
Okay, this would get us back on professional footing. I pulled up a browser, anything to avoid his teasing stare and full lips. “What’s your Facebook?”
“It’s nonexistent.”
I swallowed. “Instagram?”
Nick shook his head.
“TikTok, surely?”
He pulled those full lips into his mouth and offered a half-shrug that was only meant to placate me. “Sadly, no. Never had time for it.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “But how can that be? You’re what, twenty-nine?” I typed his name into the search box for each social media site and came up empty. “You grew up in this Century Nick, what the actual hell?”
He sighed, trying for a sad look that didn’t look sad at all. “Yeah.”
“Yeah? That is not an answer!” I blamed his scent that thickened the air in the room for the hysterics. Or maybe it was the way his big body sprawled across the chair, taking up all the extra space in my office.
“It’s the only answer I have, Sonya.”
“You really don’t have any accounts?” It occurred to me that maybe he was playing me. I arched a brow, resting my elbows on the desk.
“Not a single one.”
I stared. “You’re not curious what people are saying about you online?”
“I don’t need to know,” he said with a shrug. “What matters is how I play, not how I post.” He leaned back and threaded his fingers together behind his head, a move he had to know highlighted his giant biceps. “And I play damn good.”
I groaned. “You sound like my father.” He was right about how he played though, I’d looked into all the players and Nick’s numbers were top tier.
Nick chuckled. “You don’t mean that.”
I did. “You know this job is about getting eyes on the team, right? Making players into personalities. Building an audience.”
“I thought that’s what you were for.” He didn’t say it like a spoiled player used to having his every whim taken care of by someone else, which was the only reason I didn’t scream again.
“You mean I’m your whole PR team?” Maybe I’d spoken too soon.
“Why not? You're doing great so far.”
The compliment caught me off guard, softening something inside me.
“I’m not in your personal life, Nick, I don’t know what you do day to day outside of the arena.
” I grabbed the folder I’d prepared for each player with a basic checklist and handed it over.
“I need you to fill out this player profile so I can come up with a social media strategy and posting schedule for you.”
Nick didn’t take the folder. He stepped forward instead, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him. “Why don’t you just do it now?”
I frowned, shaking my head. “I’m not filming anything.”
“No cameras. Just you and me.” His voice dropped low. “Ask anything you want.”
I swallowed. Hard.
I wanted to ask a lot of things. None of them were appropriate. Most involved a bed and a time estimate.
Instead, I held the folder tighter. “Take this. Fill it out. Professionally .”
He finally took it, flipping the cover open with one hand and skimming the contents. “Height, weight, favorite cheat meal. Nothing too personal.”
“That’s on purpose.”
Nick’s grin returned. “I can answer one question right now, it’s all I have time for.”
It was a trap, I spotted it from a mile away but curiosity, a burning need to know got the better of me. “Which question,” I stammered out.
“My favorite cheat meal.” He watched me carefully, like he knew I wanted to ask him.
I said nothing.
Neither did he.
Like the horny coward I was, I changed the subject. “Why don’t you have time for social media?”
He shrugged. “Find me sometime and ask real nicely. Maybe I’ll tell you.” He sat forward, eyes still glued to me, waiting for me to ask which question he would answer.
“This can’t happen,” I told him.
Nick wasn’t bothered by my tone or my words. “That’s where you’re wrong Sonya. It has to happen.”
It felt that way but I knew he was being purposefully obtuse. “Nick.”
“Yes, more of that please.” He leaned closer. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since Saturday.”
I shook my head.
He nodded. “I still have the note but the kiss is starting to fade.”
Oh, holy hell, I was in more trouble than I realized. “Nick,” I sighed.
He grinned, his eyes still fixed on my face.
This was a losing battle. I knew athletes. I’d grown up surrounded by them and their stubborn ways. It made for a good athlete and an annoying anything else.
“Fine,” I growled. “What is Nick Blaze’s favorite cheat meal.”
Nick slowly got to his feet and leaned across the desk until he was close enough that I could see four different shades of blue in his eyes and smell the toothpaste on his breath. His strong arms held me transfixed before my gaze flicked up to find that intense stare still focused on me.
“Well?” My voice was low and breathy, making it obvious I wanted him. Again.
“That’s easy. My favorite cheat meal is you, Sonya.” He leaned in just enough that his lips brushed mine before he pulled back with a heated grin. “I can still taste you on my tongue but it’s starting to fade. We need to remedy that. Soon.”
Then he winked and walked off, whistling like he hadn’t just wrecked my focus for the rest of the day.
I stared after him, heart racing, mind reeling.
Body pulsing uncontrollably.
Goddammit.
Nick Blaze knew exactly how to make an exit.
But he wasn’t the only one.