Chapter 55 Parker
PARKER
He brought me coffee.
No, not only a coffee. He brought me what looks like my favorite iced coffee with salted caramel foam and a drizzle of caramel sauce. It’s my ultimate guilty pleasure.
He should be getting dressed for morning skate right now, but instead, he went out and got me coffee.
How does he even know my favorite?
The frustration I was feeling earlier begins to wash away.
It wasn’t his fault that I missed my alarm and woke up late.
It wasn’t his fault that I was running around like a headless chicken, thinking I was going to miss our call time and end up getting an Uber to the arena and facing the scrutiny of Mitchell—not that being on time or good at my job prevents that from happening anyway.
I was short with him. I was feeling vulnerable, even more so the second I looked into his eyes and remembered everything that happened last night.
In the harsh light of day, do I regret it?
Honestly, no, I don’t think I do.
Am I worried about what happens next and the repercussions? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Mitchell has already shown me this morning that he doesn’t respect my professional opinion. It’ll only get worse if what’s developing with Linc gets out.
What am I saying, if?
It’ll be when, and the second it’s out, my professionalism and ability to do my job are going to be under the spotlight.
“I also got you this,” he says, holding up a bag, hopefully with something sweet in it.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
His smile starts small and almost shy, but it quickly spreads to one I’m much more used to.
“Anytime, pretty girl,” he says quietly so that I’m the only one who can hear.
My cheeks heat as desire pools between my thighs.
Nope, definitely don’t regret it.
If I’m being honest, the only thing I’m regretting is not taking it further.
Having him get me off and not touch me was hot as hell.
But what if he had touched me? How good could it have been then?
The need to find out burns through me.
“You should go.”
“I know. Coach is going to rip me a new one. But…I needed to see you smile before I head out there.”
I can’t help it, my lips twitch at the corners.
He brushes his knuckles along the line of my jaw.
My entire body jolts as if I just had an electric current run through me.
“I’ll see you later.”
I nod. “Uh-huh. Yep. Later.”
Christ. I sound like a lovesick teenager.
With one final, longing look, Linc spins around and walks out of the visitors’ training room, leaving nothing but his scent and the effect he has on my body behind.
Lifting the cup to my lips, I groan as the mix of rich coffee and sweet caramel hits my tongue.
He even got a double shot.
This is fucking book boyfriend material—and that is very, very dangerous.
No sooner have Linc’s footsteps faded than another set makes itself known.
“Well, that was cozy,” Mitchell starts up.
I groan and roll my eyes.
“Whatever, Mitchell. We’ve got jobs to do.”
As I say that, Jarad and a couple of equipment managers come rushing into the room.
There’s a flurry of activity around us as we get ready for the day, but it seems that Mitchell doesn’t forget anything he witnessed this morning, because the second we’re alone again, he makes his second hit of the day.
“You know, I’m pretty sure it isn’t only Coach who’ll have something to say about that this morning. I think HR will be very interested, considering the fraternization term in our contracts.”
As my chin drops with that low blow, Mitchell walks out, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the room as somewhere in the arena, the guys take to the ice.
My head spins as reality settles into my veins.
“Shit,” I hiss, standing there unmoving as panic over losing my job before it’s barely begun gets the better of me.
I was worried about people’s opinions; I never considered I could actually lose my job because of it.
I think back to the day I got my contract. I was so excited. It read it, sure. But I’m not sure how much actually went in. The adrenaline was pumping too hard.
Needing a moment to get myself together, I walk toward the counter where I abandoned my half-drunk coffee, but before I pick it up, something catches my eye.
On the side of the cup, there’s writing.
Picking it up, I inspect it closer.
“The fuck,” I balk, discovering a name and phone number staring back at me.
Clearly, Matilda has no shame.
In a rush, I pull my cell from my pocket, snap a photo, and send it on to Linc.
The irritation I felt this morning returns tenfold, and I walk out of the trainers’ room with fire licking through my veins.
There is no fucking way I’m letting any man ruin this chance for me, whether it be Mitchell trying to take me down, or Linc who reminds me too much of the girl I used to be.
I’m not her anymore.
I’m stronger.
I’m…fuck.
I’m still desperately in love with him.
Much like every game day, I’m discovering, the hours pass by in a flash.
I might have Linc on my table for a few minutes after morning skate, but at no point are we alone, and at no point does he bring up last night or say anything untoward.
I’m grateful, but at the same time, standing beside him, let alone touching him, hurts.
I focus on my job, laughing and joking with the guys as if nothing is wrong. But deep down, all I can think about is if Linc messaged Matilda.
We’ve got a couple of hours after the game tonight before we need to be at the airport. Will he make the most of the opportunity and hook up with her?
Jealousy twists up my insides just thinking about him being close to another woman.
I hate it.
I shouldn’t care.
I’ve managed to push his antics with women over the years to the back of my mind. Why can’t I do it now?
As we tape up the last few players, readying for the game tonight, I can feel the excitement and anticipation already in the air.
I glance at the time. The stands will already be filling up with eager fans, and honestly, I don’t blame them.
Hockey runs through my blood just as much as everyone else’s here.
I love it, and the fact I now get to work here means everything to me.
Too much to throw it all away by allowing Linc to drag me into whatever game he’s playing.
I should have forgotten him years ago. Hell, I did.
I put all of it behind me. I just can’t make it stay there, apparently.
The crowd is already buzzing with energy as I walk toward the rink, where our guys are out on their final warm-up session.
I scan the sea of our white and green road jerseys until I find him.
Christ.
He’s on his hands and knees, thrusting his hips at the ice.
That is the literal last thing I need to be thinking about right now.
Images of last night as he towered over me, stroking his cock fill my head.
What if I’d let him do more? Would he have rolled his hips like that as he filled me up?
I startle when an arm drapes around my shoulders.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Brooke asks without a care in the world.
The second I look over, she must be able to read the torment in my eyes, because her face falls.
“Shit, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “Everything is fine. It’s just been a long day. What are you doing down here?”
“Just getting some footage. Gonna try and speak to a couple of the guys before the puck drop, if they let me.” I smirk, more than aware of how superstitious hockey players can be. She might just be out of luck there.
“Awesome. Don’t let me stop you,” I say, stepping back to allow her to pass.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely.” I force a smile on my face, hoping that she doesn’t know me well enough yet to be aware that it’s fake.
Before long, our first line guys are out on the ice, and Fletch is facing off against our opponents’ forward, waiting for the puck to drop.
We’ve already beaten the Blackhawks this season, and they’re floundering toward the bottom of the division. They’re going to be coming out fighting.
We can take them, though. I might have a lot of questions spinning around my head right now, but I don’t doubt that the Vipers are going to come out on top tonight.
And just to prove me right, less than three minutes into the first period, Linc manages to get a breakaway and shoots the puck right between their goalie’s legs, earning his first goal of the evening.
Pride shoots through me as his teammates surround him on the ice.
I shout and scream along with everyone else, completely swept up in the moment as I celebrate my team.
I forget about everything troubling me—or at least, I do until the guys let him up and he immediately looks at the bench, searching, almost in a panic. But the second he finds me, he relaxes.
His smile hits me like a truck, and I take a step back as he moves closer.
As he taps his glove against his teammates’ on the bench, his eyes never leave mine.
My heart pounds and my hands tremble.
This is bad.
Really fucking bad.
And it only gets worse.
By the time the buzzer sounds, Linc has managed his first hat trick of the year, and the Vipers’ fans are going wild, chanting his name, while the Blackhawks fans have already mostly left after a painful three-to-zero loss.
While the guys continue their victory laps, I disappear to the trainers’ room to hide.
I already know I won’t see Linc for a while; he’ll be heading off to do press with Fletch and Coach after that incredible performance. But I have plenty of other players who are going to be needing massages, ice baths, and a whole lot of other things before I’m able to leave.
Not that I’ll get much relief because we’ll be on an airplane and heading to our next city before I have a chance to blink.
Maybe everything will be simpler in Texas.
Maybe I’ll find some clarity and answers to all my problems.
I might have my back to the door when Linc finally emerges, but I know he’s there the second a round of cheers erupts across the room.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as he accepts the praise like the showman I know him to be, bowing to the crowd.
Rolling my eyes, I throw a couple of towels in the laundry before reaching for the antibacterial spray to wipe down my table.
The excitement in the room continues as I work, but everything falls away when the warmth of a body—his body—presses in behind me.
“What? No congratulations?”
“Linc,” I warn.
“Ah, I get it. You’re waiting until later.”
“Are you getting on the table or not?” I snap, unwilling to play this game with him.
“Oh yeah, I need your hands all over me tonight.”
A rush of air whips past me as he pulls his T-shirt from his body.
“Shoulders first, then my legs. My hammies and quads are really giving me some grief.”
I grit my teeth.
This is your job, Parker.
You are a professional.
Give him what he needs and then send him on his way.
My little pep talk works while Linc has his back to me.
I work on his shoulders and then move down to his back.
The room is still buzzing with life, but slowly, everyone begins to filter out.
Jarad disappears, and Mitchell excuses himself to the office, which surprises me.
I thought he’d stay and watch to see if he could get any dirt to use against me.
And the second Linc flips over so I can get to his quads, everything changes.