Taught by the Coach (Toronto Thunder #2)

1. Shane

One

Shane

S even months ago

Hands on my hips, I stand in the circular driveway of my new house, staring up at it as the June sun beats down on me from above. I knew it was big when I saw the listing and did a video walkthrough, but in person? It’s huge. Ostentatious even. It’s way more than I need, but my wealth manager told me it was a smart investment, since Toronto real estate only ever seems to go up in value. And it’s not like I can’t afford it. Plus, it has a pool, several bedrooms, an amazing kitchen, and a movie theatre in the basement, all of which I leveraged to entice my daughter Lilah to move in with me. So, bonus.

Sweat trickles between my shoulder blades as I heft a heavy box full of pots and pans and carry it into the house. I move through the foyer and into the kitchen, setting the box down on the marble-topped island. The windows that look out onto the backyard are open, letting in the warm summer air. Outside, the pool gurgles and leaves rustle in the trees dotting the property.

I rest my palms on the cool marble, looking around and letting it all sink in as movers haul furniture into the house behind me. It all feels a bit surreal—the mansion, being in Toronto, getting the chance to reconnect with my daughter.

A part of me still can’t quite believe that I’m the new head coach of the Toronto Thunder, the team I grew up watching and worshipping. I played almost fifteen seasons in the NHL, and I’ve been coaching ever since I hung up my skates. The game is all I know. It’s a part of who I am. And starting this fall, I’ll be coaching one of the most famous teams in the league.

Unreal.

Hockey is everything, but it also cost me my marriage. Although I’m pretty sure if the game hadn’t interfered, something else would have. Jessica and I stayed together longer than we should’ve for Lilah, and it was a relief when we called it. It was for the best when we split; we were never soul mates.

Soul mates. What a fucking stupid concept.

“Dad?”

I hear Lilah’s voice from behind me, and I whip around, beaming at my daughter. Adding to the list of things I can’t quite believe is how much Lilah’s grown up. I’ve done my best to be present for her, but my career hasn’t made it easy. Even though she’s technically an adult now at twenty, I want to make up for that. I want to be there for her now that we’re not only living in the same city, but under the same roof.

“Hey, pumpkin,” I say, pushing off of the counter and shoving away my brooding thoughts. She has a backpack slung over her shoulders, and a large suitcase at her feet. I sweep her up into a hug, holding her tight against me, and relief trickles through me when she hugs me back.

We had dinner together last night, but this is her first time in the new house, and I’m nervous. I want her to like it. I want her to want to be here as much as I want her here. “So,” I say, stepping back and shoving a hand through my short hair, which is sprinkled with more and more salt every year. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m going to get lost in here,” she says with a little smile, and I grin.

“Why don’t you head upstairs and check out the bedrooms,” I suggest, tipping my chin in the direction of the stairs. “Pick whichever one you like best and I’ll tell the movers where to put your things.”

“Okay,” she says, still grinning, and the sight of that grin makes my heart happy. She turns toward the stairs, her blond hair whirling over her shoulders, but then turns back. “Oh, by the way,” she says, adjusting her grip on her suitcase. “You remember my friend Sadie? She’s coming over in a little while to help me unpack and stuff.”

I nod. I vaguely remember Sadie from Lilah’s high school years. An image of a young teenage girl with a mop of dark frizz and braces springs to mind.

“That’s fine, pumpkin,” I say. “You can have your friend over whenever you want.”

She smiles. “I promise we won’t be in the way.”

At that, I stride toward her and give her another hug, then kiss her forehead. “You can’t be in the way. This is your home, too, Lilah. And you’re not a kid anymore. Okay? I want you to feel at home here.”

She nods and shoots me a smile. “Okay. Deal. I’ll be upstairs checking things out. Will you tell me when Sadie gets here?”

“Sure thing.”

She hurries up the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the house, and something inside me settles.

I head back out to the driveway and start hauling more boxes inside. Yeah, I paid professional movers, but I’m not a man who can sit idly by while others are working.

I deposit another box in the kitchen, and then open the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. I’m sweating with the exertion and the warm June day, and I down it in one go.

“Um, hello?” comes a sweetly feminine voice from behind me, and I turn and then freeze.

Oh, fuck. I can’t breathe. I don’t think my heart is beating anymore. It’s like I’ve turned to stone. Ice. Something hard and immovable, because all I can do is stare at this goddess standing in my kitchen.

Our eyes meet, and it’s as though time has stopped. But at least I know my heart’s actually still beating, because I now can hear my pulse slamming in my ears. Her eyes are the most gorgeous, fascinating shade of silvery gray that I’ve ever seen. Her hair is a mass of chestnut-colored curls that falls around her slender shoulders. And her face…It’s soft and round with full lips and a delicate nose.

All of her is soft and round, from her breasts, to her gently rounded stomach and her curved hips. I have to curl my fingers into my palms to fight down the urge to touch her. To find out if she’s as soft and deliciously yielding as she looks.

She’s the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Her cheeks have gone a little pink under my scrutinizing stare, and I clear my throat, forcing myself to look away. Tearing my eyes away from her hurts. Literally hurts. I feel the loss of it in my chest, in my gut.

“Can I help you?” I ask, shoving my hands into my jean pockets because I don’t know what else to do with them. They’re vibrating with the need to touch this complete stranger. I wonder who she is. A neighbor, maybe?

A slow smile spreads across her face, revealing dimples and a set of perfect, white teeth. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

My eyebrows inch up as my heart slams against my ribs. I don’t say anything. I can’t. I’m too busy staring at a woman who has to be half my age, wondering if she’s single. Wondering what kind of sounds she’d make in bed.

Wondering how to make her mine.

When I don’t say anything, she shifts on her feet. “I’m Sadie, Lilah’s friend.”

Those four words are like a bucket of ice water over my head, and I blink rapidly. This sexy as fuck goddess is Sadie? My daughter’s best friend?

Correction: My daughter’s twenty-year-old best friend.

Twenty. She’s fucking twenty.

I force myself to breathe and offer her a smile. “Of course I remember you,” I say, which is only a half truth. I do remember Lilah’s friend Sadie, just not this grown-up version of her.

She’s not grown up, I chastise myself. She’s the same age as your daughter. Get it together.

I clear my throat again and then open the fridge, pulling out two more bottles of water. I offer one to her, which she declines with a shake of her head. I open mine and take a sip just for something to do with my hands. I have to keep them busy so I don’t do something absolutely batshit insane like slide them around her waist and pull her against me.

“Of course I remember you,” I say again, forcing myself to make polite conversation with Sadie. It’s a battle, given that the thoughts raging through my brain are anything but polite. “How have you been? It’s been…what? Five, six years?”

She leans a hip against the counter and tilts her head, grinning. “It has. I’ve been good. Staying out of trouble, studying hard.”

“That’s right…I think Lilah mentioned that you’re both at U of T?”

She nods. “Yeah. Starting my third year in the fall.”

“What are you studying?”

“Psychology,” she says easily, her gray eyes glittering.

“Following in your dad’s footsteps, then?” I ask, remembering that her father is a shrink of some kind.

“In a way,” she answers, shrugging. The movement draws my attention to her absolutely luscious tits, safely contained in her light green crop top. There’s a sliver of skin exposed between where her top ends and her jeans begin, and I want to lick it.

Let’s be honest. I want to lick more than just her skin.

The image of hauling Sadie up onto the counter, tugging down her top and burying my face between her breasts sears through me, making my already heavy cock thicken.

I swallow hard, shoving the image aside. What the fuck is wrong with me? Do I have heatstroke, or something?

“I’m more interested in the research side of things rather than clinical practice.” My eyes move back up to meet hers, and she bites her lip. Did she notice me ogling her? Fuck.

Get. It. Together.

I don’t know what’s happening to me right now. I’ve never responded to a woman this way. Ever. But one look at Sadie has turned me into a drooling cave man.

I need to shut this down—whatever the hell this is.

“What about you? How have you been?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. Once again, our eyes meet and the world around me disappears.

God, she’s so fucking beautiful.

“Good,” I force myself to say. “Busy with the move and getting ready for the new season.” The words come out gruffer than I intended, and I don’t miss the way she flinches slightly. I can’t miss it because I feel it like a knife between my ribs.

Seriously, what the actual fuck is wrong with me right now?

“I can imagine,” she says, her eyes flicking back to mine. “A new team, a new city. That’s a lot. It must be stressful to have to uproot your life like that, and to have the pressures of an entire city on your shoulders.”

It sounds crazy, but for the first time in a long time, I feel…seen. To everyone, I’m a leader. I’m the head coach. I’m the father. I’m the guy with the answers who isn’t aloud to feel the stress and pressure put on him.

“It is,” I admit, my heart slamming hard against my ribs at the way she tilts her head. “But change can be good, too. Sometimes a fresh start is…” I trail off, and the corner of her mouth quirks up, giving me another glimpse of those dimples.

“Full of opportunity,” she finishes for me, and I nod. Our eyes lock again, and then hers drop, traveling slowly down my body, making my skin heat and prickle in the wake of her silvery gaze.

I swallow thickly, my throat dry and hot at the way she’s looking at me. Is Sadie Brennan checking me out? No. I’m imagining it. I’m projecting my own fucked up thoughts onto her.

She takes a step closer, and I find myself leaning toward her. It’s like I’m a planet and she’s the sun, pulling me effortlessly into her orbit.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back. It’ll be nice to get to know you,” she says, her voice low and sweet, like honey. I want to gorge myself on it. I want to hear that voice moan my name. I want to hear that voice beg me for more as I feast between her legs. I want whispered conversations with heads on pillows, bodies sated and entwined.

I want everything with a girl half my age that I barely know.

Fuck. This is bad. Really bad. I can feel how much trouble I’m in in my bones. In my blood. In my cock, which is already half-hard just from being in the same room as her.

I should get a cat scan because I’ve clearly lost my mind.

I take a step back, needing to put some distance between us before I do something I’ll regret, like kiss the fucking daylights out of her.

Oh, god. The thought of kissing Sadie takes my cock from halfway to fully hard.

Again, what is wrong with me? I’ve thought of eating her pussy, sucking her nipples, how she sounds when she comes, but it’s the thought of kissing her that does me in.

I’m fucked. In every sense of the word but the one I want.

“I should probably get back to unpacking,” I say, forcing more of that gruffness into my voice.

Her smile falters for a second, and that knife is back, sliding between my ribs over and over again with every breath I take. But then she grins at me and nods.

“Of course,” she says easily. “I guess I’ll head up and find Lilah.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Because the words lodged in my throat would ask her to stay and talk. To tell me every single thing about herself.

Because the truth is, while I don’t really know her, I want to. Badly.

And that can never happen, because she’s my daughter’s friend. Because she’s twenty-four years younger than me. I’m forty-five years old. Old enough to be her father.

And sick fuck that I am, that turns me on.

Sadie turns to leave, giving me a view of her luscious, peach-shaped ass. But she pauses in the doorway, looking back at me over her shoulder.

“See you around, Shane,” she says with a sweet little smile, and then she’s gone, leaving me staring after her like a lovesick fool.

Because that’s exactly what I am. From this moment on, Sadie Brennan owns me, whether I like it or not.