Chapter 18 Cole
EIGHTEEN
COLE
The offer to drive Eve home wasn’t supposed to take hours. She fell asleep shortly after we pulled out of the parking lot and rather than finish the quick ride to her place, I’m still driving around. I’m not ready for tonight to end.
I keep circling town slowly, avoiding every speed bump and pothole out of fear of waking her. Music on the radio plays low. I turned it down after she drifted off.
My elbow is propped on the armrest of the center console. I hold it still, enjoying the slight pressure where we’re touching.
A few texts from Benny light up my phone in the cup holder. I flip it around so it doesn’t bother Eve. I’ll talk to him later. Right now I’m with her and I don’t want anything else to interrupt.
All I’m left with are my thoughts and the acute awareness of her—her shallow, steady breathing, the sweet scent of strawberries and vanilla, the point of contact between us where she’s leaning toward me, arm pressed against the side of mine.
I round the bend to head in the direction of the lake for the third time since we left the rink. Being careful not to disturb her, I shift to trace my knuckles against her leg.
Watching her entertaining the kids with her old figure skating skills earlier made it so damn hard not to draw her into my arms to kiss her gorgeous smile. The need hasn’t gone away, burning in my chest, tingeing every breath.
I sigh, clenching the fist draped over the wheel. It doesn’t do anything to stop this inescapable feeling.
There isn’t much time left in the regular season, or winter. Both of the things I want are supposed to be temporary. I don’t want to walk away—not from her or this job.
“It’s late.”
Eve’s muted observation cuts through my thoughts. I give her a sidelong glance, quelling the desire to brush hair from her face. I savor the warmth of her arm against the side of mine.
“Hey,” I say, equally quiet.
With a drowsy sigh, she sits up, stretching. She blinks a few times, getting her bearings. I flex my hand, already missing the connection.
My lips slide together as I consider how she’d react if I rest it on her leg. Not because I want it to lead anywhere—I do, more and more, but not now. I just like touching her.
She studies me while I turn down another road that leads in the opposite direction than her apartment.
“Why are we still driving around?”
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
My throat bobs with the admission. Her soft laugh twines around my heart. I slow for the stoplight, turning my attention to her.
She smiles, resting her head against the seat. “That’s sweet.”
“Sorry. I’ll get you home.”
“No.” She reaches for the radio and turns it up a bit. “Not yet.”
“No?” I stare at her while the light changes, not putting my foot on the gas.
She holds my gaze. “Keep going if you want. I don’t mind.”
The corner of my mouth kicks up and my chest expands with a tender sensation. I turn left instead of right.
“Okay.”
She gets comfortable, tucking one of her legs up. It bumps against my hand. She says nothing when I slide my palm over her knee.
“Hungry? You slept through dinner.”
“Sure. Something with french fries, please.”
After we stop for food, we drive without a destination in mind. She holds my drink up for me to sip from and feeds me fries. It doesn’t matter that I could do it myself, I’m enjoying the small touches of her fingers against my lips.
My hand doesn’t leave her leg.
I take us down streets at random while she talks energetically with her whole body, telling me stories and getting lost in her side tangents. My smile is permanent. I absently rub her knee with my thumb.
Riding with her while she slept was nice. This is even better.
It feels like we’re the only two people in the world.
The arena is packed for tonight's home game. UMass is putting up a good fight, but we’re not backing down. The guys dressed to play on tonight’s roster are on fire from the moment they hit the ice for the first puck drop.
I keep an eye on our defensive pairs when they swap for their shifts through first period.
They’re providing great support for Cameron’s first time officially tending the net in a game.
My eyes narrow near the end of the period when Hutchinson takes a hit, the puck snatched away by their left wing that tears up his open lane.
He evades Brody and Higgins. Cameron watches like a hawk to read him.
My fist presses to my mouth as he shoots. Cameron moves in a flash, sliding into the puck’s path to stop it.
“Way to hustle, Reeves,” I tell Cameron when he comes off the ice.
“Feels different than practice.” His eyes gleam. “Better, just like you said.”
The edge of my mouth lifts and I pat his helmet. “Good. Keep it up and remember what we’ve practiced.”
“Right. Thanks, coach.” He joins his teammates and they give him their own congratulations for a solid first period.
It’s inspiring watching them doing well. I might’ve joined them in the middle of their season, but no one’s prouder of these guys than me. I love working on their individual strategies to figure out how they can improve their coordination as a team.
Our overall ranking in the Hockey East conference is fantastic. This is one of our last regular season games and we already know we’re heading for playoffs with our seed position from Heston U winning the national championship last year.
Early in the final period we’re up by two from the goals Keller scores. I’m distracted from the action because Eve keeps sending flirty messages.
CraftyCutie: Making coaching look sexy in that suit. The view of your ass from here is [fire emoji]
MightyPuck: Are you watching me or the game?
CraftyCutie: Both. Pretending it’s you out there, hot stuff. Two goals in a row. Will we get a hat trick tonight? I forgot to bring a hat. I guess I could throw my bra on the ice.
MightyPuck: Don’t you dare. No one gets to see that but me.
CraftyCutie: Want me to go take a picture? The lighting in the bathrooms here suck, but maybe I can sneak into the coaching offices.
MightyPuck: You’re being bad, baby. Are you going to shut up and take it like a good girl for me later?
CraftyCutie: If you make me. We both know how good you are at handling a big stick.
MightyPuck: I’m thinking you need that mouth stuffed while I fuck your pussy hard. Your toys better be charged because we’re going all night.
CraftyCutie: Ohh, fuck, I want that. Keep talking and I might have to sneak away to get started without you. You’re making me wet.
I slide my gaze to her section. She’s seated with her mom and Jess a few rows behind our bench. Her Heston U Knights shirt isn’t one I recognize from the regular merch sold to fans. She must’ve made it herself.
She looks damn good in those stands. I almost imagine she’s here for me, as if I’m out on that ice with my girl watching. It gets me fired up.
The wink she flashes me sends a sizzling crackle of heat down my spine.
“Cole.”
David’s clipped tone makes me freeze. He’s right at my shoulder. Shit—did he see my screen? I hope fucking not. I shove my phone in my pocket.
“Yes, sir?” It’s a miracle my voice is even.
“Give me that.” He motions to the iPad tucked under my arm.
Jesus. Nothing like looking your boss in the eye moments after talking dirty to his daughter to give a man a heart attack.
My pulse returns to normal and I unclench everything including my asshole. I hand it over. He was still using a whiteboard and printouts until I put this together with everything we need for easy reference during games like stats, clips from game tape, and adapting our strategy on the fly.
While he’s reviewing it, I glance at Eve. She waves without a trace of remorse.
We’ve safely avoided getting caught for now.
She doesn’t send any messages for the rest of the game. At one point she disappears from her seat for a while. I keep checking my phone on the down low, expecting to get a sexy little surprise that will drive me crazy.
MightyPuck: Are you getting into trouble?
CraftyCutie: Long bathroom line. Making new BFFs though. They liked my shirt. I told them about my online shop and sold them on my motivational and mental health stickers.
My lips twitch. I’m not surprised she’s easily making friends. Her warm, bubbly personality could draw anyone in within moments. She’s the shining light in every room she enters.
The entire arena goes insane when Alex Keller’s wrister sinks into the net for a hat trick that secures our win with minutes to spare on the clock. Hats rain down on the ice.
I have no doubt his name will be on this year’s NHL prospects list when it releases soon. It’s not easy for college players to make it all the way to the pros, but he’s got what it takes.
After the game, we have a meeting in the locker room to review it before we let the team loose for the night. Everyone’s in high spirits.
“Did you see that assist?” Easton shakes Cameron. “Man, I was on fire tonight.”
“We know, rookie. You won’t shut up about it,” Theo snarks playfully. “Good job, though.”
“I’d say MVP for this game goes to Reeves for defending the crease excellently,” I propose.
They erupt with cheers, ruffling Cameron’s damp hair and patting him. David nods in approval. I grin, struck by a sense of belonging.
“Alright, that’s all,” I say.
“Be ready to get on the team bus early tomorrow,” Steve announces.
David turns to me. “Come on.”
“What’s up?” I follow him from the locker room to his office where we get our coats.
“The girls are waiting. Aren’t you coming with us to The Landmark to get a drink?”
“Sure.”
We head outside and find them. Mrs. Lombard gives David a congratulatory kiss and Jess holds up her hand for a high five. I accept it.
Eve shifts as close as she dares with everyone right there. A chord ties around my heart, pulling me to her.
“Congratulations on another win. We’re looking good for the championship,” she says.
“That’s all them. The team’s working hard.”
The back of my hand grazes hers. Her fingers are chilled. I make sure no one’s paying attention and take her hand to warm it up. Her breath hitches and she peeks up at me through her lashes.
This is the hard part.
Playing our little game is addicting. Yet when we’re near each other the best we get is a brush of our hands and fiery stolen looks when no one’s watching, all while pretending we’re nothing more than friends.