Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
MAISIE
God, I absolutely loathe being cold.
With every fiber of my being, or in this case, every frozen appendage on my body.
I’ve always been a sundress, sandals, sun-kissed skin kind of girl, which is why living in one of the hottest, most humid states in the country works for me. It’s quite literally in my blood.
So the amount of time I spend inside a freezing hockey rink, watching boys skate around in a circle chasing a puck, is far too much.
Usually, the only reason I’d find myself at the rink is because my best friend is dating OU Hellcats’ golden boy, Saint Devereaux, and I’ve been third wheeling their relationship from the very beginning.
Lennon has been dragging me to the Hellcats’ hockey practices and games for the last year, and I dutifully sat beside her in the stands with my teeth chattering, wrapped in a jacket that did little to fend off the cold in my bones. For the sake of my best friend, obviously.
But today, I’m here without Len.
The first time I’ve ever willingly stepped foot in a hockey rink that I wasn’t coerced or bribed into attending.
Today, I’m here for me.
I mean, well, like… sort of?
It turns out there are certain perks to your bestie dating the star of the hockey team, and I’m selfishly cashing in one of those perks by being here today.
I scan the inside of the rink as I search for the Hellcats’ head coach, Coach Taylor.
With it being early September, it’s the start of the hockey season, so it’s as busy and chaotic as I expected it to be.
The team is running drills, and the sound of sticks tapping and skates scraping across the ice fills the practice rink as I make my way to the boards, fighting back a shiver.
I probably shouldn’t have worn this dress today since I knew I had the meeting here, but even though it’s negative twenty inside the rink, it’s nearly ninety degrees outside.
Welcome to “fall” in southern Louisiana.
Our version of the season is experiencing all four seasons in a single day and it still being hotter than hell even when the sun sets.
At least I look cute if I’m going to freeze to death. The pastel eyelet yellow sundress I’m wearing is one of my favorites and always makes my light blue eyes seem brighter. The sleeves are short and ruffled, and the bodice is cinched tight with a ribbon, tied with a bow.
I rub my palms up and down my arms, which are now decorated with goose bumps, walking toward the players’ bench. I haven’t spotted Coach Taylor yet, but I do see Bennett Legros, Saint’s best friend, who’s now one of my very good friends.
Our unlikely friendship was forged out of solidarity over the fact that both of our best friends are disgustingly, sickeningly in love, and we’re perpetually the third wheels.
He also happens to be the world’s biggest flirt.
Cocky, self-assured, obscenely large ego.
But he’s also surprisingly sweet, kind, and thoughtful.
He is somehow all of these things combined, and honestly, I love being around him.
His personality is just infectious. You can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous and over-the-top he is, and every time we hang out, I leave with a smile that I can’t wipe off and my stomach aching from laughing.
Walking up to the boards, I prop my elbows on the top and drop my chin into my hands as he skates toward me.
He tucks his stick beneath his arm and then takes off his helmet, shaking his drenched hair like a dog, splattering me with sweat.
“Ew, Bennett, gross,” I screech, stepping back. “What the hell!”
He smirks, the corner of his lip turning up and revealing the clear mouth guard that he reaches up and pulls out before winking at me. “Hey, gorgeous. Come to watch me play?”
I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, but I can’t stop the smile. See what I mean about the ego… and the charismatic, over-the-top flirting?
Objectively, he’s hot.
Really freaking hot. Buzzed, dirty-blond hair, a gorgeous smile, piercing green eyes that are always bright, happy, with far too many muscles to count.
But as many times as he’s asked me out, which is an absurd amount, I still just can’t bring myself to say yes.
Mostly because I don’t… date.
But also because our friends are dating, and it could be messy if that didn’t work out between us. Plus, I really love our friendship.
And also, there’s the undeniable fact that Bennett is the kind of guy who loves the unseriousness of it all. I learned that very quickly about him.
He flirts with anything with two legs—literally, he doesn’t care if you’re a guy on his team or a girl who’s come to the boy aquarium to watch him. He’s a go-with-the-flow, whatever-feels-good-to-him kind of guy.
But it’s just that.
A temporary feeling.
Nothing serious, nothing that requires commitment from him.
As many times as he’s tried to date me, that’s not what he really wants. We both know that.
I’m pretty positive that he would be terrified and run in the other direction if I actually took him up on any of his offers.
For him, it’s just the fun of the game, the thrill of chasing but never catching.
So Bennett Legros is in the friendzone. Permanently.
But that doesn’t mean that I’m any less susceptible to his charm. I am just a girl, after all.
Reaching up, I tuck a wispy strand of hair behind my ear as I scoff playfully. “As if, lover boy. Corral your ego.”
His grin only widens. “You wound me, beautiful. Can you blame me for wanting to be the man to finally get the elusive Maisie Delacroix?” He leans forward, placing his elbows beside mine on the boards, much too close for someone who’s been rejected more times than I can even count.
“C’mon, Mais, lemme take you out. You know we’d have a blast.”
“Having fun isn’t the problem between us, Bennett.”
He lifts a brow. “Then what is it? I’m hot, single, and exactly your type.”
“I don’t have a type.”
I think that’s actually a lie. A small, tiny fib. I think my type might be older. Broody. A man who makes me question if he’s dangerous in the mysterious, hot kind of way, or in the “I need to run away because he might kidnap me” kind of way.
That realization makes my stomach dip. Whoops.
“Sure you do.” Bennett chuckles. “Me. I’m everyone’s type.”
Once again, I roll my eyes and then reach forward, shoving him back lightly. “You’re ridiculous. I have no type, and I’m not looking to date anyone. Contrary to what your ego forces you to believe, I’m not here to see you. I’m actually looking for Coach Taylor.”
My gaze flicks out onto the ice, then to the players’ box and around the rink in search of him.
“Whatcha need Coach for?”
I look back at him. “We have a meeting at ten. Saint talked with him about the team partnering with the Lagniappe Literacy Initiative for their philanthropic work this year, and Mrs. Boudreaux wants me to be the lead and the team’s liaison for the program.”
“Hell yeah, Mais. That’s awesome.”
“Thanks,” I say, raking my teeth over my lip to hide the shy smile. “I’m really excited. It feels like a good opportunity, ya know? Exactly the kind of work I want to do.”
Bennett nods. “For sure. Coach is around here somewhere. Been kind of a shit show with the new assistant coach starting this season though.” He slips his helmet back on his head before putting his mouth guard in next.
“Oh yeah, Lennon mentioned something about that the other day.”
“Found him,” he says, nodding behind me, his gaze following the same path. I turn, finally finding the man I came here to see. “Good luck, Mais. And you know you can come watch me play anytime.” With a cocky smirk and a flirty wink, Bennett turns and skates back toward his team.
“Bye!” I call out, but he’s already halfway across the ice.
I reach into my lavender striped backpack and pull out the folder of information I brought with me today as I cross the rink to Coach Taylor. The sooner I can get this meeting over with, the sooner I can get out of the cold and start to thaw.
Orleans University’s head hockey coach, at least from what I’ve heard both Saint and Bennett say about him, is a damn good coach. They say he’s fair, and tough in all of the places he needs to be.
I just hope that means he’s going to be easy to work with because this program and this year’s project with the team are something that means an incredible amount to me.
There’s nothing I’m more passionate about than reading.
I’m majoring in information sciences for undergrad, and then I’ll return for a few more years to get my master’s to become a librarian.
Most kids wanted to be superheroes or celebrities growing up. They wanted to be exciting things like doctors, astronauts, or scientists.
Not me. I never wanted to do anything other than work in a library, surrounded by books, lost in stories that feel like home.
The older I got, the more I realized that I didn’t want to just be surrounded by books though. I wanted to bring the magic of reading to others. So, now I want to be an elementary school librarian. To make sure other kids cultivate the same love and respect for literature that I have.
I distinctly remember the moment I first stepped into the library when I was in kindergarten.
Or maybe my parents had brought me before then, but it’s the first time I can actually recall being there.
I was in awe at the sheer amount of books in the space, the smells, the feel of the worn paper pages between my fingers.
When I got my first library card, I was so proud and excited to discover what new stories I could find. Worlds I could lose myself in.
Obviously, Matilda was my favorite book as a child because I truly believed I was the blonde version of her. Minus the magic.
Working with OU’s literacy program is personal to me, something close to my heart. It feels like the most important thing that I’ve ever done.
I want kids of all ages, backgrounds, and circumstances to have access to stories that will encourage their imagination. Grow their minds. Give them a place to dream in.
My little brothers say I always sound like an information pamphlet when I get started talking about it, but that’s what happens when you feel so passionate about something.
“Coach Taylor?” I say after I make my way across the room.
He’s tall with broad shoulders and a thick frame that makes it clear that even though he’s older and retired from playing professional hockey, he remains an athlete.
His stark black hair is peppered with salt throughout, much like the short, kept beard on his face.
Though I’ve been to the rink what feels like hundreds of times now, I’ve only seen him in passing and never really had the need for an introduction until now.
“Maisie Delacroix?” he asks.
I nod, offering him a small smile and my hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Coach Taylor. I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. I know how busy this start of the season is.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He smiles before crossing his arms over his chest. “The coaching staff and I are big advocates for our players giving back to the school and community. This community does a lot for our program; the least we can do is support other OU programs that are giving back. Especially when it comes to the kids.”
My stomach does a happy little swirl upon hearing that, and a wide grin breaks out on my lips.
“I’m so happy to hear that. This… This program and these kids mean a lot to me.
I had the privilege of getting to know a lot of them during the summer, and it was truly a joy.
I know they’re going to be so excited to meet the guys in person for some of the events we’ll be collaborating on. ”
The small space at the corner of his eyes crinkles as he smiles. It feels like a real, genuine one. “Absolutely. I’m sure there’s some things we need to go over to get the ball rolling?” He pauses, his gaze drifting off somewhere behind me before he says, “Ah. Perfect timing.”
My brow wrinkles in confusion as he continues. “Just who I needed you to meet. Maisie, I’d like you to meet our new assistant coach, Wilder Hawthorne.”
I slowly turn as Coach Taylor continues speaking, but my pulse is suddenly pounding so loudly in my ears that I hardly hear him over the woosh. “He’ll be taking the lead on behalf of the team on this project with you.”
My heart is thrashing and my stomach twisting so tightly that I feel like the floor might be swaying beneath my feet.
Wilder Hawthorne isn’t just the Hellcats’ new assistant coach.
Oh no.
He’s also the man who took my virginity in the bathroom of a bar two weeks ago.
The one I left without even a goodbye.
The man I haven’t stopped thinking about since that night.
The handsome stranger I had no intention of ever seeing again.
I guess fate had other ideas.