Chapter 4 #2
Man, Coach Hawkins was pretty damn scary.
No wonder all the Blizzard Belles were like that— especially Hailey Baleman.
There was no way they faced a coach like that all day everyday and didn't learn a thing or two about intimidation.
Shit, it felt as if we were in an episode rerun of “Gruff Cop and No-nonsense Cop”.
"We'll be determining which team practices when," Coach Gunner continued, his voice bouncing off the walls. “And we'll have them up by Wednesday—”
Shit, it was really happening. I was going to be sharing a rink with Hailey Baleman—the girl who lived rent free in my head—for the next month. My pulse was skittering, erratic and wild beneath my skin.
Dylan elbowed me, sharp and knowing. "Put your tongue back in your mouth, man."
I didn't dignify that with a response. Couldn't , really, because she stepped forward.
"And how exactly will these schedules be determined?" Her voice cut across the ice, sharp enough to draw blood.
The question hung there, suspended in the frigid air between teams. My breath caught, lungs seized with anticipation.
Coach Hawkins' expression tightened, and she cut her Captain a sharp glare that would have had many other players scrambling and retreating with their tails stuck between their legs. "Hailey, don't start stirring the pot."
But my Hailstorm? Oh no. That glare only made her stand even straighter, the graceful arch of her nape catching the lights as she cocked her head slightly. A dark and delicious look flashed across her face, and my mouth literally went dry at the sight of it.
"Asking for transparency on how practice schedules will be decided is hardly stirring the pot, Coach," she said smoothly, her voice steady despite the cool flame in her eyes.
God, she was magnificent. Terrifying and magnetic and so beautiful it actually hurt to look at her.
"Fine then," she said, her gaze daring both our coaches, "If we're going to do this, then we might as well do it well."
"What?" Coach Gunner’s tone was sharp, but she didn’t back down despite his obvious attempt at intimidation.
"Playing pretend teammates isn't going to change the fact that we're going to be sharing one rink, Coach," she'd said, throwing a cheap jab at me. "And there's no way we'll give up the prime practice slots just like that. If you guys want them, then you'll just have to play us for them."
Oh? A smile crept across my face, my insides lighting up like it was the damn 4th of July. Was she…proposing a face off?
She turned, her eyes cutting through the distance between us until they collided with mine. Time collapsed, stretched, warped around us. "Unless," she said as she held my gaze with an intensity that threatened to incinerate me where I stood, "your Captain's too chicken?"
I think I just might have orgasmed right then and there. The challenge ignited something primal inside me, something that had nothing to do with hockey and everything to do with the way her lips formed around the word "chicken."
My cock responded immediately, becoming even harder so fast it was almost painful, straining against my compression shorts with an urgency that would've been humiliating if I’d had any capacity left for shame.
But shame required brain cells, and every last one of mine was consumed by her and the challenge she’d just thrown down.
The butterflies in my stomach morphed into something that clawed and demanded and yearned . It was that crazy good feeling that felt as though my dream girl had just asked me to the Spring Dance or some shit. And in a way, she might as well have, too. This was a literal dream come true for me.
I stepped forward and just kept on walking until we were mere paces apart. My voice, when it finally emerged, was rougher than I intended, scraped raw with wanting.
"You asking me to dance, Hailstorm? Hell if I can say no." I said, my lips spreading into a genuinely delighted smile.
Off to the side, I heard Coach Hawkins scoff and Coach Gunner? He just let out a defeated sigh. Around us, the murmurs of both our teams were already starting up.
“Fine.” Coach Hawkins bit out the acknowledgement, but I couldn’t break the staring contest I was currently in with Hailey. Well, she was staring me down, while I was just staring at her. “If that’s how you want to play it, we’ll have a face off on Wednesday and deal with this once and for all.”
“Great.” Hailey said, staring at me along the length of her nose.
I could literally feel the frost rolling off her.
But all I could focus on was her: the cold fire in her eyes, the challenge in her stare, the way her jaw was locked so tight I thought she might snap if I pushed her just a little harder.
And I could’ve let her stew in her rage for a bit longer—could’ve let that tension hang thick between us just to see what she’d do—but where was the fun in that?
Instead, I grinned, and then I stretched out my hand.
"Let’s get along for a long time, Hailstorm."
The look she gave me could have frozen a goddamn lake over. But me? Oh, I was warm and fuzzy all over.
She took my hand but her gaze was cold as she whispered back, "Can't wait to drop this dead weight as soon as the one month is over, fuckface ." Then she straightened up and said loudly enough for the coaches to hear, "Likewise."
Heh. For someone so damn cold, she sure was feisty. Not that I was complaining or anything.
“Damn it, I have a migraine,” I heard my Coach groan as they both turned and started to head back to Coach Hawkins’ office. I only noticed this in my peripheral vision, because I still couldn’t look away from Hailey.
She dropped my hand like it was a bag of hot coals in the next second, and I pulled my hand back, my fist clenching against the loss of her touch.
One month.
One month to get under her skin, to get in her head, to make her see me the way I had seen her since the very first time she stormed into my life. Since freshman year. Since that day at my parents' hospital.
And if I had to play the long game, if I had to take every glare, every insult, every ounce of resistance she threw my way, I would.
Because Hailey Baleman had no idea .
No idea how long I had been waiting for an opportunity like this. No idea that, when I wanted something— someone —I didn’t stop until I got them.
And she was the only thing…the only person I’d ever truly wanted. And that was why I wasn't going to hold back anymore. Getting under her skin for one whole month?
I couldn’t wait.