Chapter 15
Sven
fifteen
. . .
We get the win. I score two goals and earn an assist on a third.
“Damn, Larsson,” Coach Turner says as the clock winds down to the final buzzer. “That’s all it took?”
I’ve been on fire all game. My blood is boiling and my heart is hammering, and it’s not from the usual game-time adrenaline.
Vanessa is up in the box. I didn’t see her during the two intermissions, laser-focused on the game.
The guys were buzzing, though. Our pre-game kiss was the talk of the arena—and if MacGregor is to be believed, it’s headline news.
In the showers, the guys keep trying to tease me, but I keep my head down and focus on getting clean. I’m wrapping a towel around my waist when the locker room door opens and Vanessa, Angelica, and Patrice come inside.
The room gets quiet—quick.
Someone shoves me forward, and I stumble, windmilling my arms. I stop in front of her.
“Hi,” Vanessa says, her face red. She tucks some hair behind her ears.
I swallow. “Hi.”
“So I guess everyone knows now,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“Fucking hell,” someone says behind me. “This is painful.”
“Kiss her, asshole!” someone else shouts.
Vanessa smirks up at me. “You heard him. You gonna kiss me?”
Grabbing her around the waist, I pull her into me, and she smiles as she trails her hands up my arms. She hooks her hands behind my neck, and I lower my lips to hers.
Cheers and whistles erupt behind me.
I don’t know what we are now. Are we still faking? Is this real? All I know is that when I saw her hugging Whitney, I couldn’t breathe. She’s not a possession, she doesn’t belong to anyone, but… she’s mine. Not his. Even though I know they’re friends, even though I know he would never hurt her?—
The kiss is much more gentle than pre-game. Coaxing apart the seam of her lips with my own, I tighten my arms around her as she drives her fingers into my hair. I let out a rumbly groan.
“Get a room!” a voice yells.
Suddenly, I remember we’re in the middle of the locker room, surrounded by my teammates, and—oh yeah—I’m naked and wearing only a towel.
Vanessa pulls back. “Good game,” she says, patting my chest.
“Thanks.”
“All right, all right, that’s enough,” Coach Turner says.
Vanessa pulls away slowly, her eyes on mine as she slides her hand down my arm like she doesn’t want to stop touching me. She squeezes my hand before she lets me go.
“Damn,” I hear someone say.
When she turns away to go into the back room with Patrice, I shake my head and head back to my locker.
Only—
The guys are staring.
Again.
“What?” I growl out, tired of the silence.
“You and Vanessa Morgan?” McKittrick says, a furrow on his brow.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“It was weird that she sat next to you on the plane,” Lewis says, looking between me and the back office curiously.
“I saw her coming out of his room in Pittsburgh,” Pope chimes in.
Fuckwad.
“So is it, like, a hook up?” Pope continues. “Is she down to fuck?”
White-hot rage burns through me. “Not you.”
“They’re together,” Andrews says from behind me. “Have been for a while.”
Over my shoulder, I glare at him. “Stay out of this.”
He shrugs. “I’ve got your back, man.”
“So it’s true?” MacGregor asks.
“Yeah.” Finally reaching my locker, I grab for my clothes. I don’t particularly want to drop my towel with a half-chub, but the longer this conversation goes on, the less I’ll need to.
“Going after team personnel… that’s career suicide, man,” Lewis says, shaking his head.
“The team knows. Coach knows. Management knows.”
“Really?” I don’t understand why Lewis is so surprised.
“As soon as it turned into something, she gave the paperwork to her boss.” I shrug. “It’s?—”
“Hold up.” MacGregor sits down. “You filed the relationship form with her?”
I nod. “We weren’t hiding anything.”
“But you didn’t exactly broadcast it, either."
“Because you assholes gossip like schoolchildren.” I glare at Pope. “She deserves to be treated with respect. She shouldn’t have to have her life be gossip fodder.”
“It will be, though,” Reynolds points out. “The talking heads asked about it at intermission.”
He was interviewed in the break between periods, and I was too in the clouds to notice when he rejoined us.
Fuck.
I blow out a breath. “What did you say?”
He shrugs. “Just that it wasn’t my place to comment.”
Okay. It could be worse.
I probably should call my agent, though.
“Seriously, man,” MacGregor says, nudging me. “Vanessa Morgan? She’s, like…”
“Ten out of ten,” Cole says.
“Super hot,” Reynolds adds.
“Way out of your league,” Schwartz says.
At that, I laugh. “Don’t I know it.”
“Does she have a friend?” Jenkins asks. I can’t tell if he’s joking, but I’m fairly sure he has a girlfriend.
I lick my lips. “Her best friend is Whitney’s little sister.”
A few of the guys curse.
Wyatt Whitney is a brawler, unhinged on the best of days. He needled me all game. I didn’t even have to be on the ice at the same time to know he was smirking at me.
“Damn it,” MacGregor says with a congenial smile. “So she’s off limits, then.”
“I’ve always liked a challenge,” Pope says, smiling with his teeth.
To my surprise, it’s Andrews who pipes up next. “Bex would kick your ass and make you thank her for it.”
Pope isn’t deterred. “You know her? Is she down to fool around?”
“We went to college together. You touch her, I’ll kick your face in, and Whitney can have the leftovers,” Andrews says casually as he packs one of the equipment bags. “She’s off limits.”
“You gonna make a play?” Lewis asks.
Andrews shakes his head. “Nah, it’s not that way with us. She’s good people, though. Way too good for any of you fuckers.”
The guys talk around me. The conversation moves on to what they’re doing when we land in Boston.
We’ve got practice at ten tomorrow morning, so we don’t have too much time on the ground to fool around. Some of the younger guys are talking about going out to a bar.
Not me. That wasn’t my scene, not even when I was their age, and especially not now.
As I drop my towel in the bin, a big body comes up beside mine.
“Same goes for you, man,” Andrews says quietly. “You hurt her, I’ll break your face.”
“She’s not yours,” I counter. “She’s her own person.”
He shrugs. “She’s important to me.”
“And me, too. Why would I hurt her?”
“Shit happens. I never meant to either, and…” He blows out a breath. “Just… look out for her, okay? What happened with us was ages ago, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about her.”
I grind my teeth. “Are we going to have problems?”
Andrews blinks. “No, no, not—I don’t have feelings for her,” he stresses. “I respect that you’re together. Fuck, you’re probably better together than she and I ever were. We weren’t suited.” He shrugs. “I just still care about her. She was a big part of my life.”
Mine, too.
It would be so easy to turn the tables around. It could have been me. If I hadn’t walked away after that one-night stand eight and a half years ago, would we have made it work? I was already in the league, she was still in school… When she joined the team, I was in a relationship, and yeah, I ended that quick, but?—
Have we just been two sides of the same coin, both wanting her and still wanting her to be happy above all else?
“We’re cool, man?” Andrews holds out his hand.
“Yeah, we’re cool.” I shake his hand.
He claps me on the shoulder. “Go get the girl, Larsson.”