Chapter 31
June
We lost the game against the Vancouver Canucks the next day, then boarded the plane to go home. The mood was somber on the flight.
Eventually, Cole stood up and raised his voice to address the entire team.
“Listen up! Everyone needs to relax. I ate a peanut butter cookie and had an allergic reaction. That’s all.
Nobody else needs to freak out. None of us are in any danger.
So let’s get home, rest up, and then regroup for the next game.
Because we’re still leading our division, and we should fucking act like it, eh? ”
There were a few shouts of agreement, but not enough to raise any spirits.
Cole and Rhett came home with me that night, and I lost myself in the mindless drive of their bodies. The release was exactly what I needed—and what they needed, too.
But as the three of us fell asleep together in my bed, I stared at the back of Cole’s neck and wondered if he was hiding something from me.
Coach gave everyone the next day off from practice, but I still went to the arena after lunch to meet Elias for our secret workouts. He was already there when I arrived, lightly spinning on one of the exercise bikes.
“June,” he said in a deep rumble, immediately leaving the bike when he saw me. “The road trip. When I was… uh…”
“It’s fine,” I replied with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Finish up your warm-up on the bike and then meet me in the squat rack.”
There was a strange tension between us now, and it bothered me. I had finally gotten through to Elias, had made him comfortable around me. Now it felt like we were back to square one. And if we were back where we started, it would make it difficult for me to do my job.
Elias was adding plates to the barbell in the squat rack when I joined him. He glanced over at me, then stared at the ground.
For a little while, we went through the exercises on my rehab sheet. Elias was quiet for most of it, and I didn’t feel like breaking the silence. I watched his form to ensure he was doing everything properly, and that was it.
But when we switched from squats to bench press, he turned to face me again with determination on his face. “June. I must explain what happened in Ottawa.”
“There’s nothing to explain. You snuck out, got drunk, and then Coach Jay benched you during the next game because you were hungover. Let’s focus on bench press. Three sets of eight.”
I tried turning away, but he grabbed my arm to stop me.
“No,” he insisted. “Please, listen.”
I stared at his fingers on my arm, strong and gentle at the same time. Finally, I nodded.
“I am from ?rebro. A town in the middle of Sweden,” he said, his accent adding an exotic flair to every word.
“My family was close. My parents, and my sister. I went to university in Stockholm, a long drive from ?rebro. But my family came to watch me play in every game. One night, my father drank too much during the game. I told him he should not drive, that he should allow my mother to do so, but he did not listen. He was a large man, and I was afraid of standing up to him, so I said nothing more.”
I felt myself tensing. I knew what was coming, the only direction a story like this could go.
“They crashed a kilometer from home.” Elias’s face became blank. “They almost made it, but the roads are sharp, and slick. All three perished.”
“Elias…”
He held out a palm to stop me. I could tell he wanted to get through this, that it was already a massive vulnerability to reveal this to me.
“I hide my feelings all year. I bottle them away. I am told it is called compartmentalizing.” He sounded out the English word slowly.
“And one time per year, on the anniversary of their death, I allow myself to get drunk and confront my feelings. I get it all out in one night. Coach Jay and I have an… understanding. Usually, the anniversary is while we are at home. But this time… a road trip.”
He shrugged.
“I’m so sorry,” I said when he was done. “I had no idea.”
“I do not tell anyone,” he said. “Only Coach.”
“But…” I cleared my throat. I didn’t know how much I could ask him about the whole thing. “When I saw you in the stairwell, you weren’t grieving. You seemed happy.”
“I was happy,” he agreed. “Sometimes I am overwhelmed with grief. Other times I am happy because I know they would be proud of me. Of what I have built. This time was a happy time. And I was happy to see you. You are… a nice woman.”
I couldn’t stand there any longer without giving him a hug, so I threw my arms around him. He held me close, my face pressed against the thin fabric of his tank top. I didn’t care that he was a little sweaty, and he wasn’t self-conscious.
The hug went on a long time. And when he pulled away, there was that same glimmer in his eyes…
I don’t know what came over me, but I leaned up to kiss him. At the last minute, I realized what I was doing and moved my head to the side, kissing him on the cheek through his beard instead. He blinked in surprise, then let go of me.
“We should return to the exercises,” I said, feeling my cheeks redden. “Bench press. Three sets of eight.”
His eyes searched mine for a moment longer, then he laid flat on the bench and unracked the weight. I let out a long sigh as he did the exercises.
What had gotten into me? Almost kissing Elias, another member of the team?
But I couldn’t deny that there was something between us, a spark that still made my skin tingle as I stood over his massive body, benching the weight with ease.
I felt drawn to him, even right now. And I was pretty sure he felt the same way.
He caught me admiring his body, and I quickly looked away.
“Don’t forget to keep your core engaged.”
“Core?” he asked with a puzzled expression.
“Core. These muscles.” My hand skimmed over his rippling abs to indicate what I meant, but it was that moment when my gaze snagged on his obliques peeking out from under his shirt.
I ghosted a finger along the pronounced line, and my eyes dipped lower without thinking.
Or maybe I was thinking. Just not with my brain.
His black shorts pulled tight over the straining bulge of his cock. A shock of heat rushed through me and settled between my legs. Because the discovery of his burgeoning hard-on confirmed that all parts of his beautifully large and muscular body was… perfectly in proportion.
A clang snapped through the quiet as the bar hit the rack, metal rattling against metal. I flinched as Elias sat up in one clean, powerful motion.
“Oh, sorry,” I blurted, already scrambling backward. The heat pulsing low in my stomach threatened to betray me. “That’s enough for tonight, I think. Let’s just—”
His strong hand grabbed me by the wrist, and my breath stalled.
“Elias—” Before I could say more, he yanked me back toward him.
I tipped forward, catching myself on instinct, and then his other hand found my waist. The size of it, God.
His fingers wrapped all the way around my hip as if I were nothing more than a plaything.
Which, all things considered, I wouldn’t have minded.
He used that same grip to pull me straight into his lap.
“Elias?” I gasped. It came out higher, breathier, nothing like the annoyed trainer voice I’d been using all evening.
He didn’t answer, but the intensity in his eyes stole the air from my lungs.
The thrill of it had me in a choke hold.
Right here in the middle of the gym. What the hell was I thinking?
Heat unfurled low and fast, pooling between my legs, and for a second all I could hear was my own pulse drumming in my ears.
The gym held its breath around us, that eerie stillness that only happened long after the last player had showered and left. The fluorescents hummed overhead, and the parking lot beyond the window was a scatter of lonely streetlights and empty spaces. More suggestion than destination.
The arena was quiet. The kind that made any sound carry. The kind where a single pair of footsteps walking through the wrong door was all that stood between us and career suicide.
A shiver chased down my spine.
This was stupid. God, so stupid. I should’ve pushed off his lap immediately, should’ve told him to get a grip, should’ve—
His hands slid to my hips and he stared deep into my eyes, asking an unspoken question. The intensity there sent the last of my coherent thoughts into hibernation.
Elias must have gotten the unspoken answer he wanted, because he pressed me down against him.
The contact ripped a gasp from me, his thick bulge twitching under me. My thighs strained against the stretch of my tights as he guided my body over the hard length beneath his shorts. I could feel everything—heat, thickness, intent—and the pressure lit something bright and reckless in me.
“Wait.” There was no conviction in my voice.
He exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring, and shifted his grip. One hand braced at the top of my hip, the other at the curve of my ass, and he used both to rock me. Not gently. Not slow. He dragged me forward over him and then pulled me back, grinding me exactly where we both needed it.
The friction was electric.
I want this so badly.
I felt myself get wetter. Felt it soak right through the thin stretch of my tights, the slick heat spreading onto his shorts as he rocked me again. His breath hitched, chest heaving hard against mine. It was a small thing, but that tiny reaction made my whole body tighten.
This was insane on so many levels.
Anyone could walk in. Anyone could see us tangled like this, my legs straddling him, my hips being worked against his in slow, obscene strokes. The idea should’ve terrified me.
Instead, a desperate pulse of arousal throbbed through me, and I pushed down harder.
His grip tightened, lids heavy as he groaned out loud. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the trainer version of me was screaming.
But the woman in his lap didn’t care.