Chapter 16 Cole
SIXTEEN
COLE
There’s not much for me to do during our ice time today. David and Steve have the team working on conditioning and shooting drills until everyone hits a quota.
I don’t want to be useless. While they shoot wristers, backhands, and slap shots repeatedly on the net, I study the goalies, calling out advice. Cameron’s doing fantastic guarding the net. He’s fluid and has a damn good instinct for which way the puck will go.
“Nice read,” I say when he stops another with a smooth glove save.
Eve’s in the stands watching practice. She arrived a while ago and has been drawing on her iPad.
A few players go over to talk to her during a water break. David hasn’t noticed yet. I follow them over after a minute to direct them back to the ice.
The group is rowdy, laughing and nudging each other. They’re like puppies vying for her attention. I’m pretty sure Easton has actual hearts in his eyes. Alex and Theo are rolling their eyes. Cameron covers his face with his hat while his shoulders shake with amusement.
Jake Brody’s slouched beside her, arm stretched along the back of her seat. I know she’s not interested in any of them, yet it makes me pull up short. Something grates sharply in my chest.
Eve bats her eyelashes and pretends to swoon, but her smile is tired. “Is that line working on the girls you pick up at parties? Weak, bro. You need to up your game.”
Jake shrugs with a cocky expression. “Works for me every time. Come chill and I’ll show you how well I bag the ladies.”
She scoffs, giving him a playful shove. Alex mimics the sound of a plane crashing and burning.
“Come on, you’re not curious how I use these to make pretty girls like you scream?” He lifts the bottom of his jersey to flash his abs.
The grating sensation comes again, stronger this time. My brows pinch. I don’t get the chance to step in.
Easton pales, punching Jake’s shoulder and muttering a curse under his breath. “Dude, shut up, it’s—”
“Did I just hear that right, Brody?” David’s behind the group.
“Hey, Dad. How’s practice going?” Eve hides a smile behind her hand, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Wouldn’t know. My players are too busy flirting to skate.” He passes a stern look around that has the guys paling further. “I shouldn’t have to make it clear that my daughter is off-limits.”
I hope my face doesn’t give me away because now I’m shitting the bed right along with the guys. If this is how he reacts to them joking around, what will happen if he finds out about what’s happening between us?
David crosses his arms. “You’ll be skating suicides for the rest of practice.”
“Coach, that’s like fifteen, twenty minutes,” Theo points out grimly.
It’s a long time for a drill that’s designed to push skaters to their limit racing in groups from the starting point to the next line, progressing further with each round. Typically it lasts around five minutes.
David’s eyes narrow. Alex pulls the rookies with him and the others follow. The team goes to line up, muttering curses to themselves. Once they’re in position split into groups at opposite corners of the rink, he blows his whistle.
“Jeez, Dad,” Eve mumbles a few minutes in. “Is this necessary?”
He grunts, moving away from us to oversee the team’s penalty. I rub the back of my neck and sigh.
“They’ll live. If he didn’t say something to them, I would’ve.”
She blinks, cheeks pink. Then she shakes her head, fighting back a shiver.
“The guys are harmless. I can handle players like Brody if it gets to me.”
I rub at my sternum to dispel the remnants of annoyance. “What are you working on?”
She holds up her iPad to show me. “This motivational sticker collection. I started designing them last night. I thought it would be cute if I got some colorful pens and maybe some notepads to send out with them. Like a positivity journaling set.”
She shivers again with a grimace, burrowing into the hoodie she’s wearing. I frown.
“Here. Put this on if you’re cold.”
I shrug out of my coaching jacket and drape it around her shoulders. She peers up at me while I zip it for her, hands lingering when it hits me she’s wearing my name. If she turns around, I’ll see Assistant Coach Kincaid across her back.
Possessiveness burns in my chest. I curl my fingers into my palms to stop myself from pulling her into me the way I want to right now. Because wearing my name makes her look like she’s mine.
“Thanks. It helps.” She lifts the collar and tucks her nose inside, closing her eyes. “It’s warm.”
This jacket isn’t one of my old hockey sweaters, yet the effect it has on me is just as strong seeing her in it. I used to think my old teammates were joking about wanting to see their girlfriends wearing their jerseys.
Now I get the appeal. Not only wanting to broadcast who she’s rooting for, but also knowing her eyes are on me all the time. My mind flashes with ideas of her wearing it. Her riding me in reverse. Sleepy in bed on a Saturday morning, curled up with me. Out at The Landmark.
Damn. I fear I’ll never work her out of my system because the more I’m around her, the more she draws me in.
“Aren’t you cold? It’s freezing in here today.” She tugs the sleeves over her hands.
“Not anymore than usual.”
She sneezes. “Must be me.”
My brow wrinkles as she goes back to working on her design. She doesn’t seem like herself today. Her hair is done in a more simple style than usual and she’s bundled in comfy clothes. She’s not even wearing earrings.
Her face is too flushed. I feel her forehead. She jerks in surprise. Gut clenching, I touch the back of my hand to her feverish skin again.
“Hold still,” I murmur. “You feel pretty warm.”
“I’m okay. I was just up late.” She worries her lip. “I’m supposed to get a ride to work from Dad.”
“Hang on. I’ll give you a ride instead.”
I hurry to David with quick strides. He’s putting on the strict coach act, barking at straggling players to pick up their pace.
“Hey, I’m taking Eve home. I think she’s sick. She’s got a fever,” I say.
His stony expression falls. “She’s always pushing herself too hard.” He checks his watch. “I’m meeting Neil for lunch at the bar. I’ll let Matt know she won’t be in for work.”
“Okay.”
He blows his whistle. “That’s it for today. Get out of here.”
While guys waste no time hitting the showers, I return to Eve. She has her iPad packed away in her purse and hugs her sticker-covered water thermos. She looks tired and pitiful. It’s adorable.
“Ready to go?” I hold out a hand.
Her hum sounds scratchy and congested. She gets up on her own and follows me out. An icy gust of wind makes her hide behind me. I turn around and draw her into my arms to warm her up. She presses closer, accepting my help. I finally have her back in my arms, though not the way I’d like.
“Your dad’s going to let Mr. Boucher know. You don’t have to worry about calling out sick.”
“Thanks,” she mumbles against my chest.
“I’m taking you home so you can rest.”
As we get in, I text Benson. I was planning to spend some time with him and Jess at the brewery. I let him know something came up.
Eve is quiet on the ride to her place. She doesn’t comment on the detour I take when I start to head for my apartment first. It’s how I know she’s more out of it than she let on.
I think she was planning to power through the day, and now that she doesn’t have to, it's hit her all at once.
“You know it’s okay to slow down when you don’t feel good?” I give her a sidelong glance.
She hums, head resting against the seat. Her eyelids grow heavy. I don’t know if it registered.
My mouth quirks. I pet her head, enjoying the contented sigh she makes. It’s nice to provide her relief.
We pull in the driveway. She doesn’t move right away.
“Tired?”
She nods. “I was up until…” She scrunches her face. “Four? I don’t remember. I was going to stop, but I wanted to finish. Hyperfixation is a real bitch sometimes. I’m basically delirious at this point.”
I squeeze her knee. “Come on, Evie. Let’s get you into bed.”
She stares at me for a beat like she didn’t hear me right. Her tongue darts out to swipe her lower lip. I want to follow it with my thumb.
“You want to take me to bed?” she whispers.
I do, but for a much different reason. A heavy exhale leaves me.
We get up to her apartment above the garage. My hand hovers at her lower back to keep her from losing her balance on the steps as she trudges up them with sad little groans. Once we’re inside, I grab a fuzzy pink throw blanket from her couch and wrap it around her.
“Go get in bed. Do you have a space heater? It’s cold as shit in here.”
“Over there.” She points to a small one in the corner.
I carry it, pausing on the threshold to her bedroom when I’m hit with familiarity from the sexy photos she’s sent from here. Clearing my throat, I help tuck her in and sit on the edge of the mattress.
“Better?” I rub her arms through the covers.
She nods. “You didn’t have to bring me home. Thank you.”
“Can’t have you getting sick.” I feel her head again. “I’m going to get you some cold medicine. Do you need anything else?”
Her hand pokes out. “My hand is sore.”
“Your hand?” I massage the ache for her. “Can’t have that, either.”
She melts with a sigh, lashes fluttering. “From drawing for so long without a break. Mm, feels nice.”
My dick likes those tantalizing noises she makes as I work her palm. I swallow thickly, forcing my thoughts away from that path.
She gets me hard too easily. I feel like a damn teenager around her. It’s never been like this with anyone else.
“Think you can eat anything? I can make you soup if you want. It’ll warm you up.”
She considers for a moment. I focus on stretching her fingers to keep from smoothing out the thoughtful wrinkle between her eyebrows. Her small pout makes it hard not to crumble to the desire to kiss her.
“I want…pancakes. It’s what my mom would make whenever I was sick.”
“My comfort food is mac n’ cheese,” I admit with a chuckle.
Her smile is sleepy. “Yum.”