Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
ESME
“Chloeeeee.” Dragging her name out did little to get the rodent off me, though the fact that I hadn’t been very loud since I could barely breathe might have had something to do with it. I’d fallen asleep on the couch and woken up with what amounted to a dense, compact human lying across my chest and stomach. To make matters worse, Stank was on top of Chloe. Fifteen pounds wasn’t that much until it was an extra fifteen pounds on top of a full bladder.
Neither animal moved and I finally had to push them off me, if not for air, then to make it to the bathroom before I pissed myself. The vet hadn’t warned me about just how attached Chloe would become when I’d adopted her. Eighteen months before, waking up to a tiny capybara and a fifteen-pound cat burrowing on my chest had been sweet. Now that she weighed more than the average German Shepherd, it was a different story.
While relieving my bladder, I thought about the house I’d made an offer on shortly after moving to Nashville. The yard was large and relatively secluded and the house was in the back of a gated neighborhood a few miles outside of downtown. I’d been warned by numerous people in the organization about how awful Nashville traffic was. It had been the Parliament’s GM who had sent me the link to the house in a neighborhood many of the coaches lived in, and I’d fallen in love with it as soon as I’d seen the pictures.
After living in a major city for my entire adult life, the wooded backyard and large front yard felt like a slice of heaven, yet the neighborhood was just a few blocks from shopping. The space was perfect to get Chloe another capybara friend. Then again, it would be my luck to wake up with two giant capybaras on me. Hell, at that point I probably wouldn’t wake up at all.
Death by capybara crushing. That would be a hell of a way to go.
I tabled the thought of another capybara as I washed my hands and headed to the kitchen in my short-term rental to make coffee and some breakfast. Finding a place that would accept a capybara hadn’t been easy, but thanks to Cass we’d found a townhome willing to accept Chloe, Stank, and me for a month or so until I closed on my new house.
As I went through my routine of making breakfast for the pets and me, I stared at my phone. This time last season it had rarely been silent. I’d gotten texts and calls from coaches and teammates at all hours of the day and night. Throughout the summer months, coaches had still texted regularly, teammates had kept in contact, and Cass had kept my schedule so full of sponsorship deals and promotional stops that my phone had rarely been silent for more than an hour at a time.
The constant texts and calls had abruptly stopped when I’d retired. For weeks, Cass had been the only one who called to check on me. I was finally starting to get some calls and texts again now that I was working at the arena. Still nothing from Boston, but the Parliament’s head coach, Tom Cernak, the GM, Daisy, Blaise, and even a few players had started to text me. Notably absent, though, had been Jake. He hadn’t sent me a single email or text and he hadn’t asked for my number in the weeks I’d been working there. Sure, it could easily be found in the staff directory, but I’d discovered most people asked for my number instead of looking it up.
Jake has no reason to text you.
And he didn’t. Unless there was a security issue, we had no reason to interact. He wasn’t technically an employee of either team but of the arena itself. I was thankful our jobs didn’t require us to work together but was still disappointed we didn’t have reasons to talk. Disappointed enough that I'd started creating reasons to stop by Jake’s office when he was in and sometimes when he was gone but had left his door open. I’d popped in while he was at lunch the day before and left a small dinosaur on his desk. I’d noticed the line along the front of his desk on my first day and I was convinced it had been growing steadily since.
An hour after I’d left the tiny plush dinosaur for him, I’d overheard him telling someone about how cute it was while trying to guess where it had come from. I’d worn a stupidly stubborn smile the remainder of the day, just knowing he liked it.
I really needed to call Cass and talk this crush through before I did something stupid like opening Grindr to see if he was active. I wondered if looking him up on Grindr would make it better or worse. Did I want to know he was out there looking for casual sex? It shouldn’t have mattered since we weren't together, but tell that to my brain.
Even more surprising than my obsession with Jake Robinson was how much I’d enjoyed getting to know people at the arena. Unlike Boston’s need-to-know status quo, the Nashville teams had been a wealth of both factual and funny information. Texts and in-office talks centered around everything from prospects to mental health to when a few players were finally going to admit they were dating and everything in between. No one batted an eye, no one turned their nose up, and most of all, not a single negative thing was said about someone’s relationship—gay, straight, or otherwise.
Almost as though I’d thought my phone to life, a text appeared from Owen Belcher, a player on the Parliament. He was high on the list to be sent to the Grizzlies and from the little I knew of him, he’d be there soon enough. Owen was high-energy, talented, and driven.
Owen
Hypothetically, let’s say someone got drunk last night and looks and feels like shit this morning. Does that person have to come to the meeting at ten?
The message had me laughing out loud and shaking my head as I tapped out a reply.
Advil, coffee, and a greasy breakfast. I hear there’s a great greasy spoon near the arena. Might I suggest that for your hangover?
Owen sent an emoji with stars over its head and I couldn’t decide if it meant he was dizzy or his head hurt, though the middle finger that appeared next couldn’t be as easily mistaken.
Owen
You’re so mean! It’s not fair! Ugh, I’m going to go raid the medicine cabinet. Hopefully there’s something there that will help. Can you at least agree to keep the lights low?
I knew better than to answer and slipped my phone into my pocket, which reminded me I was still in yesterday’s clothes and hadn’t changed yet. With a groan, I turned to run up the stairs, have a record-breaking speed shower, and find new clothes before jogging back down the steps to leave the house. “I’ll see you guys later,” I told my animals and gave them both some extra attention before heading out the door and to my car. Ms. Donna waved to me as I walked down the sidewalk and I waved back, relieved to know Chloe and Stank wouldn’t be alone the entire day.
It would be many more weeks before I’d call myself settled, but after three weeks, I was starting to get the hang of the way the Parliament, and to an extent the Grizzlies, operated. Tom had been nothing but polite and welcoming. The first week I’d started I’d met the owner, Lincoln Lewis, who had warmly welcomed me to the organization too. He’d taken time to thank me for being there and had sounded genuine when he told me to reach out if I ever needed anything.
He hadn’t mentioned anything about Easton, and since I knew they were dating, I wondered if that was on purpose or a coincidence.
In over a decade with Boston, I’d only met the owners once and they’d been as standoffish as the coaching staff. Since starting my job, I’d seen Lincoln and the coaches and managers on an almost daily basis and was still trying to convince myself I hadn’t walked into a hockey fairy tale.
Every day had greeted me with something new. More times than not, the experiences had left me simultaneously laughing and shaking my head. More than once I’d questioned if what I’d witnessed was real.
My first encounter with Easton had been one of those head-shaking moments. I’d been walking toward my office and Easton had nearly lunged from a doorway, muttering about what a pain in the ass I was to lock down. There had been a moment where I’d worried he was getting ready to rip into me about something I’d said or done or maybe hadn ’ t said or done while he’d played in Boston. But then I’d landed on a plush couch next to a giant stuffed owl in his office.
Instead of peppering me with uncomfortable questions I couldn’t answer, he’d peppered me with questions so random they confused me into answering without much thought.
“Full name?”
“Esme Alexandre St. Claire.”
“Age?”
“Thirty-seven.”
“Height?”
“Six feet three inches.”
“Weight?”
“Two hundred twenty-five pounds… give or take.”
“Favorite things?”
“My pets.”
“Teeth?”
“Original? Twenty-three and a half.”
“Goals for the season?”
The hardest to answer had been the last question. The only thing that had come to mind was survival, though I knew that wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. I’d given a bullshit stock answer amounting to building relationships within the teams.
I hadn’t figured out what he was doing until he flipped what I now realized was a chalkboard around and thrust it into my hands. The team’s social media guy appeared next and took a few pictures of me with what amounted to a first-day-of-work chalkboard. It was similar to what my sister-in-law sent me of my niblings each year on the first day of school.
A photo of me smiling, albeit also looking confused, and holding the chalkboard had appeared on the teams’ social media accounts later that morning. It had been, hands down, the strangest moment of my life.
I had thought it would remain as such until I’d arrived at work today. I’d barely stepped off the service elevator on my way to the downstairs conference room when I was nearly taken out by a black blur I was pretty sure was the elusive Sergeant Jake Robinson before landing in a supply closet. My yelp drowned out his grunt as the door shut behind us with a quiet click and we were left shrouded in complete darkness.
I could already tell today would become the strangest day of my life.
He’d somehow managed to keep us both upright by grabbing my biceps and pulling me toward him. It left my front flush to his, though I supposed it was preferable to falling on the floor. At least maybe. He hadn’t spoken and I hadn’t gotten a good look at his face, but I recognized his scent. It had been embedded in my brain as soon as he'd stepped next to me at the bar. The only thing missing was the oaky whiskey on his breath. At the moment, his mouth smelled of mint and chocolate.
“Shh,” he whispered, an almost frantic sound.
My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark, my brain hadn’t caught up with the situation, and my mouth was flapping open and shut at a complete loss for words. The only thing on full alert was my nose, which was telling my dick it smelled the man from the club.
It was early, so I couldn’t believe I was smelling mint and chocolate. “What did you have for breakfast?” I hadn’t looked at whiskey the same since the night Jake and I spent together, and now I was never going to think about mint chocolate the same either.
“ Shhh !” His warning was harsher this time, and the smell only increased. “You’ll get us found!”
“Huh? Aren’t you a cop? Shouldn’t you be going out there and arresting them?”
“What?” I still couldn’t see Jake but could imagine a furrow of confusion knitted across his forehead. “Arres…” He pushed me back gently, which was probably for the best since the more he spoke, the harder I was becoming in my slacks. “Not like that!” His voice was so quiet I had to step forward to hear him. “Hide and seek. Shh!”
Hide and seek ? This had not been on my life bingo card. Walk into a game of hide and seek at work.
I opened my mouth just as I heard footsteps nearby and Jake slapped his hand over my mouth before I could form a sound. “Shhh.”
I couldn’t tell for sure, but it felt like Jake had gotten closer to me. I had no idea how he could without touching me, but the smells of soap and mint chocolate had gotten stronger. There was barely enough room between us to hide my growing arousal from him.
Check mark two on the card: getting a boner for the cop slash hookup.
The only way I could think of to keep my arousal in check and maybe not embarrass myself was to start talking to Jake. I dropped my voice so low it was hard for even me to hear it. “Why are we playing hide and seek?” And why had no one informed me I ’ d gotten a job in a preschool?
A little giggle escaped the police officer in front of me and I could almost see the smile on his face. “Fuck if I know. The Parliament play hide and seek almost every day. It’s fun, though.” There was a hint of bashfulness in his voice. It felt like he was telling me a secret just for us to know, and for whatever reason it made my heart thump and my stomach swoop.
Check mark three: wanting to make him happy more often.
Hidden in darkness, we were silent too long and had moved closer still, so close I could feel Jake’s dusty blond stubble brushing my cheek. We were close enough I could easily lean forward a fraction of an inch and feel his lips against mine.
I didn’t think I was the one who moved first, but in one breath I was thinking about kissing him, the next, our mouths were pressed together. Our lips parted at the same time, and when Jake didn’t immediately take control of the kiss, I snaked my tongue out and let it trace against his lips before finally slipping into his mouth and finding his tongue.
He let out an unmistakable whimper and began to press his body against mine. Our hips worked together of their own accord, both of us chasing pleasure as we rutted, not caring about our clothes or what we’d look like when we were finally found.
I’d just moved my hand from the back of his head on my way to his crotch when Jake’s phone pinged loudly and he jumped back with a startled gasp as he tried to silence the device.
“Shit!” He managed to whisper the word just as the door flung open and Connor, one of the Parliament forwards, stood there with half the Parliament behind him, all looking at us in surprise.
“There you are!” Connor took another few seconds to look us over before waggling his eyebrows. “And I see you found yourself a man in there too!” He turned to the group behind him.
One of the other players looked around Connor and into the supply closet. “Any more men in there? I could use one!”
My cheeks flamed a brighter red than Jake’s had. I wasn’t out to the players—really not to anyone. No one but Cass, and I guessed Jake too.
“Chill, St. Claire, I’m kidding!” Connor’s voice was nearly deafening after we’d spent the last handful of minutes barely whispering. “I didn’t know you were playing with us, though.”
“I wasn’t.” I hoped my response didn’t sound too gruff or inappropriate. My brain was spiraling from the easy way Connor had alluded to Jake and me being together. And to top it off, my body was still trying to get itself under control from a fucking kiss. A mind-melting, passion-igniting, I-want-more-now kiss, but still just a kiss.
I really need to adjust my dick.
Jake had gotten his composure back faster than I’d managed to and shook his head when I didn’t say anything else. “I accidentally tackled him as I ducked into the closet. He was truly an innocent bystander in all this. I just wouldn’t let him leave because I didn’t want you to find me.”
“Your phone gave you away.” Connor winked and Jake pulled his phone out of his pocket, muttering about annoying friends and getting back to work.
While he was busy with his phone, I took a few deep breaths before looking at the men in front of me. “Okay, are you all ready to get down to business?”
They shook their heads and a chorus of noes filled the hallway. Connor filled me in. “We’re still missing one person.”
I was frustrated because I couldn’t get a team meeting started with a missing player yet simultaneously thankful I had a few minutes to go to the bathroom and adjust my dick. I shooed the team away. “Go find him and meet me in the conference room in ten. ” I turned, then remembered to look for Owen. “Where’s Belch?” I asked the group.
“He’s in the locker room hugging a coffee cup like his life depends on it,” Connor answered.
I shook my head. “Make sure you get him too.” At least he was here, though I didn’t know how much good a hungover hockey player was going to be as we discussed our next charity event.
I hadn’t made it ten feet toward the bathroom before Easton and Tom walked out of an office in an animated conversation about dry cleaning.
“No, I can’t take that call. I have to go pick up the dry cleaning.” Tom shot Easton a pointed look.
Easton put his hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture I was pretty sure was trying to be innocent but all I could see was poorly masked humor dancing in his eyes. I’d played on the same team with Easton for years, and the man had usually been behind the shenanigans inside the Bulldogs arena or on the plane. It had driven Coach Anders insane but Easton had always taken extra skates, benchings, and whatever else Coach had come up with as punishments for him with a smile on his face.
“You missed an epic paint fight,” Jake said from beside me. I had no idea when he’d caught up, but his sudden appearance made me jump sky-high. “Charity event turned paint war.”
I blinked in surprise, unsure of what to say and not trusting my voice to work yet.
Easton nodded his head, and the humor in his eyes hadn’t dimmed any. “It was amazing.”
Tom sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “By some definition of the word. I’m still mourning my credit card after this dry cleaning bill.” He elbowed Easton. “You still owe me that money. In case you’ve forgotten.”
Easton shook his head at Tom’s statement. “Shouldn’t you be hitting your son up for that money? It was his paint that got on you.”
“At your goading.” Tom tried to sound annoyed but the barely masked laughter in his voice gave away that his true feelings were anything but.
“I have no control over my best friend.” Easton raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders in faux innocence that no one believed.
If Tom had rolled his eyes any harder, he’d have gotten them stuck. “Easton Lafferty, you will be the death of me. Then you can deal with my husband on your own.”
Jake snorted a laugh at the confusion on my face. “Get used to this. I know there are a lot of sayings about not working with family, but I think they need to be amended to include your kid’s friends too. These two bicker like an old married couple. It’s pretty funny.”
Without missing a beat, Easton responded to Tom. “Have you guys found Vacation Guy yet?”
Tom turned an unhealthy tomato red and growled. “I’ve changed my mind. You’re fired!” Despite his attempt at sounding serious, there was humor and embarrassment lacing his words.
Easton opened his mouth and I was desperate to know what he was going to say, but Daisy’s voice rang out instead. “You don’t have the power to do that, Tom.” Halfway down the hall, she was walking toward us, eating up the distance between us with long, confident strides. In a well-tailored suit and tennis shoes, she was the embodiment of not only athletic power but business confidence. She had the don ’ t fuck with me vibe down to an art. Thankfully, she was smiling.
“Nice to see you again, Esme. It’s been a while.”
She’d been in Boston as a coach for a college there while I’d played. The only thing different about her now was her long black braids were dyed purple, pink, and blue at the ends. I had to admit she looked happier than she had in Boston.
“Just a bit.”
Jake looked between us. “Did you two date or something?”
We both laughed. “Hell no,” I said, answering for both of us. “We were in Boston at the same time. She coached a college team for a few years. Our paths crossed a number of times.”
“Ahh. That makes sense.”
Easton grinned. “Daisy can still outskate half the team.” He turned his attention to her. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your appearance today?”
“I’ve got a favor to ask.”
I didn’t stick around to find out more. My cock was pinched in the crease of my leg, and I was going to scream if I didn't set myself to rights before my meeting.