Chapter 2
Chapter Two
SILAS
Silas: Did you see the press announcement from the Agitators?
I pick up my glass of Scotch as I stare down at my text thread with my boys, willing them to respond. I’m all sorts of fucked up.
The moment I saw the press announcement come in, I dropped everything I was doing, slipped on my shoes, and walked to the closest bar where I’ve been ever since, wallowing in how the universe is so fucking unfair.
No, not unfair, just fucked up.
My phone dings with a message.
Pacey: Dude . . . what the actual fuck?
Pacey is the star goalie for the Agitators.
Last summer, when we were spending our time off the ice at my cabin in Banff, he met the love of his life, Winnie.
He recently proposed, and she said yes. Not sure when the wedding will be, but I do know their disgustingly cute love makes me want to throw up.
Pacey: Are you okay?
Shaking my head, I text him back.
Silas: No. All kinds of fucked up right now.
Hornsby: Wait . . . SARAH is working for the Agitators now? HOW?
Eli Hornsby—defenseman, pretty boy, and the guy who got Pacey’s sister pregnant.
Yeah . . . sore subject, but everything seems to have worked out now.
Penny is due soon, and throughout all the years I’ve known Hornsby, I’ve never seen him this protective over anything .
. . even his gleaming, Prince Charming-like smile.
Oh, and if you didn’t catch his text, yeah, my ex, the girl who destroyed me, is working for the Agitators in the marketing department. Hence the heavy glass of Scotch in my hand.
Posey: Whoa, whoa . . . whoa. *pinches brow* How? How the fuck?
Levi Posey—teddy bear on the inside, absolute bruiser on the outside—acts like the innocent one of the group with his love for bologna sandwiches and his penchant for helping old ladies walk across the streets of Vancouver when, in reality, he’s the biggest ladies’ man of them all.
Pacey: Do you think she used your name to get the job?
Hornsby: She better not have. Who can we talk to about this? How can we get her fired?
Posey: You can’t get someone fired because of a personal relationship.
Hornsby: You sure as hell can if this new hire is going to fuck with Taters’s head. You know it is. No offense, bro.
Silas: None taken because you’re fucking right.
Holmes: Just catching up. Sarah is working for the Agitators? Dude, are you okay?
Halsey Holmes, besides me, is the quickest skates out on the ice.
A former twin, he lost his brother in a horrible car accident.
Halsey turtled in on himself and focused on hockey and only hockey.
That was until this past summer when we discovered that Halsey has a huge fucking crush on Penny’s best friend, Blakely.
The only problem is Blakely is massively in love with her boyfriend. Yeah, he’s in deep.
Silas: Yeah, not doing great. I mean, what the actual fuck? Why would she do this?
Hornsby: Isn’t it obvious? To fuck with you, man.
Pacey: I hate to admit it, but I’m with Hornsby.
Hornsby: So how can we take her down?
Posey: Once again, you can’t take her down. Her personal life isn’t the Agitators concern.
Holmes: I’m with Posey. There isn’t much we can do.
Hornsby: What the fuck? What happened to band of brothers?
Silas: I appreciate your willingness to charge after her with a bayonet at the end of your hockey stick, but bro, they’re right. Nothing can be done.
I set my phone down and bring my glass to my lips.
Absolutely nothing can be done other than hope and pray I don’t have to interact with her.
And how the fuck did she get the job? As far as I know, she has little to no job experience.
Are the Agitators just hiring anyone now? I want to see her credentials.
After taking a sip, I set it down on the bar in front of me as a hand presses to my back. I turn just in time for a woman to speak closely to my face as if we’ve known each other for years and we’re in cahoots.
“My name is Ollie. I’m in a really tough spot, and I’m so sorry, but I’m about to kiss you because I need to save face in front of my ex-boyfriend, who is now dating my nemesis.
If you don’t stop me in three seconds, I’m going in.
” She says this at such a rapid rate that I almost don’t understand what she’s saying.
As I turn to face her, I catch a glimpse of thick wavy brown hair and a flash of red lipstick, and then her lips are on mine, her hand shifting to the back of my head.
Whoa, what the hell is happening?
I’m caught off guard, but it’s only a moment because once her soft, plush lips move along mine, I turn toward her and smooth my hand around her narrow waist as my lips move along hers.
And for a brief second, I’m stunned, brought to another world where Sarah doesn’t exist and my worries are nowhere to be found. Instead, I’m lost in the most perfect pair of lips I’ve ever tasted.
My hand grows tighter on her waist as her fingers toy with my blond locks. She steps in closer, her mouth parting just slightly. I part mine as well while her other hand falls to my chest. Hell, this woman tastes good, like tequila and promises.
Just as I reach to pull her in even closer, she breaks away but keeps her face close as she whispers, “Please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second. Also, you’re the best sex I’ve ever had.”
That makes me smirk. “Damn, and I didn’t even have to do anything to earn the title.” I catch her glance over her shoulder, so I quickly say, “I’m Silas.”
“Nice to meet you,” she says before turning around and sinking into me, my open stance on the barstool welcoming her as I slip my arm around her waist and pull her in even closer.
Not sure why I’m going with her demands.
Maybe I’m a bit drunk from the kiss . . .
and the Scotch, but I hold still, ready for what’s to come.
Three people approach us.
One is a woman sporting a shocked, disapproving glare—must be one of the offenders.
Behind her is a lanky man whose brow is pinched together so tightly that I bet it could hold a quarter if I slipped it in.
And the other man just keeps blinking . . . rapidly, as if he can’t quite comprehend what he’s witnessing.
From a guess, I think Cranky and Lanky are the people Ollie—that’s her name, right?—is trying to save face with, and the blinker has to be a friend.
“See, told you he was over here,” Ollie says as she places her hand on mine. “He’s just shy, is all.”
Ehh, shy? Not really, but I’ll go with it.
I nod at them, not saying anything while still acknowledging their presence.
“Well, I, uh . . . I don’t know what to say,” the girl says.
“You’re . . . you’re dating Silas Taters?” Lanky asks. Honestly, I’m shocked it took this long for the guy to say something.
“Oh, you know each other?” Ollie asks, clearly having no idea who the hell I am.
“Everyone knows who Silas Taters is,” Lanky says.
Clearly, not everyone.
“It’s . . . it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lanky says, holding his hand out.
Out of respect for my image, I take it and offer him a solid shake. “Thanks, pleasure is mine, man.”
I feel Ollie stiffen against me, probably wondering what the hell is going on and how her ex-boyfriend knows who I am, so I decide to help her out a bit.
“Ollie and I don’t talk about hockey much . . .” I leave it at that, letting them fill in the blank.
Cranky’s eyes narrow. “Wait, if you’re dating a hockey player, then why are you so up in arms about your assignment?”
Hmm, wonder what the assignment is. Also, really curious why Ollie and Cranky are nemeses. Who threw the first punch? Who wronged who? Was it because the ex-boyfriend was stolen? Not to be a dick, but he doesn’t seem like much of a prize to me.
“Uh, because he just said we don’t talk about hockey much,” Ollie says, and I’m somewhat impressed with her ability to think on her feet. “I clearly don’t want to bother him about it.”
I bring her in tighter and lightly stroke her stomach with my thumb, catching Lanky’s eyes falling to the movement. Huh, the guy has some jealousy showing, so hopefully, this helps her out.
And keeping with the shy guy mentality, I quietly say, “You can bother me, babe.”
She turns a few inches and cups my cheek while saying, “Thank you.” And then, once again, her soft, delicious lips touch mine, and she lightly kisses me. It’s short, but goddamn, is it sweet. I could easily kiss this girl more. She wouldn’t even have to ask me to pretend.
“Well,” the girl huffs. “We should get going. We have plans.”
“Yeah, okay,” Lanky says, his eyes never averting from Ollie’s and my connection.
“Good luck with your assignment. I think you’ll need it,” Cranky says right before she turns Lanky around and pushes him toward the bar’s exit.
Once they’re out of sight, Ollie turns toward me, gratefulness all over her face. And hell . . . she’s beautiful, but I only get a quick glance before she’s pulling me into a tight hug, her tits pressing into my chest. “Oh my God, thank you so much. You completely saved me.”
Not sure what to do, I return the three-second embrace.
When she pulls away, I get a good look at her.
Petite, toned body. Large chest for her size, beautiful long brown hair that seems to be naturally wavy, green, almond-shaped eyes, and plump lips. She’s an absolute smoke show.
“Uh, yeah, glad I could be of service.”
“What the hell is going on?” the friend says as he steps forward. “What was that, Ollie?”
Biting the corner of her lip, looking coy as shit, she says, “I took a chance, and by the grace of good luck, it worked out for me.”
“So you don’t know each other?” the guy asks.
Ollie shakes her head. “No.”
“Never seen her before,” I add.
“Well, hell, you convinced me. I thought you were hiding something from me, Ollie.”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “Nope, just a random guy.”
“Hell,” the guy says while pulling on his hair.
Yeah, hell is right.