Chapter 15
ARCHER
I’m on for my first shutout of the season when the Philly center—and my former captain—picks up a loose puck, reaching it just before Sawyer.
Shit. Their rookie winger is one of the fastest in the league as he comes barreling toward me, catching up to his captain and leaving me in a two-to-one situation and our slender one-goal lead at risk.
It’s only the preseason, but as I’ve learned over the years, good habits start early, and with only an away series in Boston left to play before the regular season starts, I need this final play to go my way.
Typically, their center likes to deke—faking to pass off to his wingman before taking the move on himself. I’m not falling for that shit though. I’ve played with and against him enough seasons to know where he’s going with this. Top right with a snapshot.
And that assumption is my first mistake. My second is ignoring the rookie and first-round draft pick when their captain fires a pass to him at the final second, immediately followed by a onetime slapshot, heading for the bottom left.
I keep the puck out, dropping into the splits, the very edge of my pad making contact with the puck, but not in the way I wanted it. It spills out with zero control or direction, only to find their captain’s stick and, consequently, the top right, just as I originally anticipated.
The lamp lights, and I flop onto the ice, frustrated. The only saving grace is the empty arena since tonight is a simple friendly away from the media rather than an exhibition game.
I look across at Coach as he scrubs a hand over his jaw before holding it out to shake with the Philly coach. The game ending one to one.
“I should’ve been on the puck. That goal’s on me, man.” Sawyer glides across, pulling up just in front of me as I climb back to my feet.
I shake my head. “Nah. They exposed my weakness. Coach has been talking to me about rebound control, and my low angle game has been off for a while.”
“That reach was wild! Unlucky on the rebound.” Jack slides up to me, chewing on the corner of his mouth guard.
“Yeah, Archer isn’t seeing it that way,” Sawyer replies for me, skating off to head for the locker room.
I should do the same, but right now, the only thing holding up my mood is the thought of finally seeing Darcy tonight.
I pull off my helmet, smiling at Jack. “I’m getting in my head over the shutout record I set in my rookie season. I should be way ahead of that by now.”
Jack looks confused. “You are way ahead of it.” He thumbs behind him toward the emptying ice, and it’s then that I notice Coach as he makes his way over.
“When I arrived at training camp at the start of my first preseason, all I could think was how fucking relieved I was, playing for you and not against you.”
I clamp a gloved hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.
In the brief seconds we make eye contact, the urge to tell him exactly what’s happening with Darcy overwhelms me.
The words I’ve got feelings for your sister are right there—teasing, taunting, telling me owning up and being honest is the right thing to do.
“All right, Morgan, nice play out there.”
On Coach’s approach, Jack spins around, a moment of pride passing between him and his stepdad before he skates off toward the tunnel, leaving me feeling anything but proud over my performance on the ice and lack of balls off it.
“Before you say anything, I know.” I speak first, eager to get to the point. “I fucked up and should’ve anticipated the pass. I also need to work on my rebound distribution.”
Coach runs a hand through his dark hair, zero signs of frustration.
“Yeah, it wasn’t the best, but the initial reach was excellent.
” He releases a long breath as I turn and grab my water bottle from the goal.
“I want to try a new approach with your training and was going to speak with you about it after conditioning tomorrow. However, now seems like the best time.”
Taking a pull from my bottle, I snap the lid shut and eye him for signs of being dropped to the farm team. “Should I be worried?”
Coach shakes his head with a dismissive laugh, and I heave a sigh of relief.
“Jensen Jones.”
“What about him?”
He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “He’s a good friend of mine and former Scorpions teammate. Recently retired from the game.”
“Go on,” I reply, already knowing all this.
“His rebound game is generally acknowledged to be one of the best ever seen, and I’m calling in a favor with him.
He’s agreed to temporarily join the coaching staff and work specifically with you.
I think if we can get this element of your game nailed down, then you’ll be unstoppable.
” He chuckles. “Maybe not the best analogy for a goalie, but you catch my drift.”
I nod once, taking another sip of water. This isn’t the worst news. I could learn a lot from probably the best NHL goalie in recent history.
“I told you I want to go deep into the playoffs this season, ideally lift the Cup. To do that, I need you locked in and focused on hockey and hockey alone.”
Not on your stepdaughter then …
“I told you I wanted this season to be my best yet, and I meant it.”
I begin skating off the ice, and Coach follows.
“Good. Since we have a short rest period coming up, I’m actually due to go see Jensen in Seattle tomorrow after our conditioning session. We’re going to discuss contracts and terms then. I’ll let him know you’re okay with the plan.”
“Oh my God, you weren’t kidding when you said you’d bring the snacks with you.”
With two brown bags loaded with everything I could think of, I follow Darcy down the hallway in her apartment, setting them down on the counter in her kitchen.
She spins around to face me, and I immediately close the few feet between us. When she opened the door a second ago, I wanted to pull her into me, but didn’t get the chance.
She’s wearing a purple dress I bought her with tights and a cute cardigan over the top. “You look amazing in my dress.” With a cocky smirk, I breathe her in like a drug I’ve been reluctantly detoxing from. “How are you feeling?”
She looks at her nonexistent watch. “Since you asked me a couple of hours ago? Still a lot better than when you were last here.”
There’s an easy silence between us as we stand in the center of her living and kitchen space, the light fading fast outside. Only a floor lamp and her under-cabinet spotlights are on, bringing a soft glow to her apartment that shines on her rosy cheeks.
I don’t feel the need to say anything as I appreciate her warm body against mine, dropping my face into the crook of her neck.
“Can I ask you something?” Darcy’s voice cuts through the silence.
I hum into her soft hair, nodding once.
“How many girls have you slept with?”
I pull my head back up and study her closely. “Why do you ask?”
She twists her hands around in front of her, and I take them in mine—confident I’m, once again, crossing fuck-buddy boundaries. That said, so is she with her question. She knows I’m tested for STIs by the team.
“Why do you ask that, Darcy?” I softly repeat.
She looks down, and I release a hand, bringing a finger under her chin.
I need to see her right now. I get a sense that ensnaring this girl in my world involves her understanding the real me, which isn’t what the rest of the world sees.
I know it isn’t because I’ve never treated a woman in the way I do Darcy.
Her soft breath dances across my lips.
“I guess I’ve never had a fuck-buddy arrangement before, so I don’t know what they usually look like. I will say, I never expected it to look like this though.”
Finger still looped under her chin, I can’t prevent my rogue grin. “How does it look, Darcy?”
“Different.” She chuckles softly. “Do you know all of your former hookups’ favorite snacks?”
She cocks her head toward the brown bags I set down earlier, a packet of Bugles just visible at the top.
“How honest do you want me to be with you?” I ask.
Darcy shakes her head like that shouldn’t even be a question. Trouble is, if she knew the depth of my feelings and what I want, the full truth might not be so appealing.
This is just fun for her, Archer.
“I want you to be really honest with me. Always.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind her left ear while my stomach knots with a barrage of emotions—mainly anxiety—as I search for the best way to put this.
“You want to know how many women I’ve slept with?
” I brush my thumb across the hand I’m still holding, and I see the goose bumps as they rise on her bare arms. “I don’t think I can give you a number because I don’t know myself.
My past is littered with bad decisions and one-night stands, some of which I’ve buried at the back of my memory. ”
Her eyes search my face. Fuck, what is going on in that head?
“I mean, this—you and me—we’re a risky hookup, aren’t we? Will you bury us …” She pauses for a second. “Me. Do you plan on burying me at the back of your memory when you’re done with whatever this is?”
Up until this moment, I’ve done a good job of hiding the way her assumptions about me cut deep. Assumptions I can’t blame her—or anyone else—for having. It’s a reputation I’ve built up since my college years, and now it’s biting me in the ass.
I can’t hide my frustration or hurt any longer, and as a result, I feel the mask disguising the true depth of my emotions slip a fraction.
“I have no plans to be done with you, Doll. And what we’re doing, I’ll never forget it.”
She nods once, never taking her eyes off mine. “What did you mean when you said you buried some of your one-night stands at the back of your memory?”
This is a conversation I wasn’t expecting to have today, and my anxiety kicks up a notch. “Some of the women I got with weren’t single.”
Her eyes flare wide, and I quickly rectify her spiraling thoughts about me.
“I didn’t know that they weren’t, and if I had, I would’ve never gone there. Ever.” I punctuate the last word to get my point across.
“Kassie, the last woman I was with before you, was engaged to a guy I used to play with. When I found that out, I could’ve buried the knowledge and let him go ahead and marry her. That didn’t sit right with me though, so I told him what happened.”
Darcy grimaces. “How did he react?”
I can still feel the sting as his fist collided with my jaw.
“Not that great. After that, I made a vow to quit playing around and grow the fuck up. Choosing to be with multiple women or men is nothing to be ashamed of, even if the reckless way I was going about it was questionable. I was literally hooking up with strangers I knew nothing about, other than they were hot and I was horny.”
The words burn my mouth like acid as I voice them, unease creeping up my neck in a crimson rash I know is visible.
I want to tag on that I also stopped sleeping around because I couldn’t stop thinking of her.
It’s not the right time though, and I force down another admission, my throat burning as I do it.
With everything she knows, I wouldn’t blame Darcy if she ended our arrangement right now, although I keep holding on to her body, waiting and hoping she won’t back away.
“So, you haven’t slept around for a while?” she asks, no judgment or malice in her voice, only a simple question.
I shake my head, the truth spilling from me in easy waves. “Not for a while, no.”
Her surprise is obvious, or maybe it’s relief that causes her shoulders to relax. I can’t be sure.
“You have nothing to feel guilty about or ashamed of, Archer. You’re a good person, and you did the right thing in telling that guy about his unfaithful fiancée. I’m not sure how many times Liam went behind my back. I can only hope I found out after the first time.”
This time, it’s my shoulders that drop with relief as I place a chaste kiss on the bridge of her nose, working my way down to her mouth.
Just like that morning we shared in my bed, nothing about this moment feels like a fuck-buddy arrangement, and I let that reality sit between us without words. I don’t know how much she shares of what I’m feeling. All I can do is keep showing up for this girl.
When I go in for another kiss, she pulls back a little, something more on her mind. “So, this, what we have”—she motions between us—“I get to call time on it?”
Releasing her hand, I wrap my palms under her ass and lift her up. She loops her legs around my waist, interlacing her fingers at the nape of my neck.
“I’ve told you from the beginning that you’re in control of us. Nothing has changed that.”
Beneath the dress I bought her, I feel the heat between her thighs.
Goddamn, I want her so badly.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” I ask, thinking she’s probably not up to much with being so sick this week.
“No,” she whispers, pupils dilating. “I don’t want to watch a movie or eat snacks.”
My heart rate kicks up, pumping blood to my dick. “Well, given you’re in control, tell me what you want.”
She looks over her shoulder, gazing through the open bedroom door and then back at me. Her skin’s flushed red, chest moving more rapidly. “I want you to take me to bed.”