Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
MAISIE
The following day, when I walk into the rink, there’s a flurry of nerves bouncing heavily in the pit of my stomach that has nothing to do with the actual event and everything to do with the man I’m supposed to be working with.
Who, thankfully, isn’t anywhere to be seen as I make my way toward the table I’ve set up near the stands and set my bag down.
A sense of pride swells beneath my rib cage when I see everything put together.
The banner I painted hangs above the table of books that the players will be reading, along with the bags that I made for each child to take home after the event.
I had Lennon help me cut out bookmarks that double as coloring sheets so they can create something special and then use it when reading.
The best part?
I was able to connect with a local children’s book author who writes books on Louisiana’s colorful culture, and she signed enough copies to give every single child a new book.
The program wasn’t able to fund that aspect, but after the next couple of months of fundraising with the team, we’ll be able to do so much more. I paid for it out of my own pocket without batting an eye because it’s worth it to me. Every child should have a book to read.
This work is so incredibly important to me. I’m already so proud of what we’ve accomplished so far, and I truly can’t wait to see what the rest of the year will bring.
I’ve been looking forward to this day for weeks. Even though it’s a small-scale event compared to the ones in the coming months, it still feels like all of the time and work I’ve put in is coming together.
I just keep imagining how excited they’re going to be, and it makes all of the late nights and hard work even more worth it.
It only takes a few minutes for me to put out the tray of cookies I brought and arrange the table, so I’m finishing up when I hear the doors of the rink slam shut, followed by the sound of someone walking up.
“What up, Mais,” Tyler Gravois, the Hellcats’ center, says as he drops his hockey bag onto the floor beside the boards.
I smile. “Hi! Thanks for coming today. Seriously, it’s so sweet of you to be here.”
Heat blooms along his cheeks, and I stifle a laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hockey player blush until now.
He reaches up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh yeah, it’s nothing. Coach Hawthorne said we had to be here.” I chuckle as he continues, stammering, “I mean, I would’ve been here either way, but you know, I just mean—”
He’s cut off by the sound of the heavy metal doors shutting again and his teammates’ boisterous conversations as they make their way into the rink.
I think I might see his shoulders sag in relief a little bit, and this time, I do laugh and make a mental note to ask Lennon more about him.
A handful of the guys say hello to me on their way to the locker room, and of course, there are a couple who try to swipe a cookie until I promptly slap their hands away.
“No, those are for the kids. Go away!” I laugh, shooing them from the table.
I glance down at my watch again and chew the corner of my lip. It’s almost time for the event, and I still haven’t seen Wilder.
Not that I was looking for him… I just noticed the lack of his presence. That’s all.
I guess I kind of expected him to be here with the team early.
The guys are standing around talking and playing on their phones as the kids start to arrive, and I pause from greeting everyone to check my watch.
“Hey, um, have you seen Coach Hawthorne?” I ask Bennett as I move my gaze around the room, scanning the area full of people. “We’re about to start in like five minutes, and I haven’t seen him.”
He shakes his head, lifting a shoulder. “Nope. I’m sure he’ll be here soon. Traffic, maybe.”
I nod.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
“If you need anything, let me know. Oh, and you better save me a cookie.”
I roll my eyes and huff out a laugh. “The cookies are for the kids.”
“I’m basically a kid.”
“In maturity level, yes,” I tease, his lips tugging up into a playful smirk, and he tosses me a wink before ambling off.
Walking to the front of the room, I glance down at my watch one last time before I speak.
“Thank you so much for being here, everyone. We—” I gesture to the guys with a wide smile.
“—myself and the team, are so excited for today, and we’re so happy that you could be here.
We have some fun things planned, but most importantly, I just wanted to take a second to thank the Hellcats team and coaching staff for being a dedicated partner to our program this year. ”
The guys whoop and holler, a series of over-the-top whistles and claps echoing around the room, and I laugh, shaking my head.
“Clearly, everyone is just as excited for the things we have planned as I am. Please make sure you sign up for our newsletter and information posts so you can keep up-to-date on the events over the next few months. And make sure to grab a bag before leaving. Marietta Fontenot, a local author, has signed her latest book for everyone, and they are included in the take-home bag.”
I can tell the children are starting to get restless, bouncing excitedly on their toes, tugging on the sleeves of their guardians, so I wrap my welcome up.
“So, who’s ready to play hockey and read?”
They all cheer and begin giggling loudly when one of the guys—Riley, I think?—hooks his stick around Saint and pulls him like he’s a sheep.
Even Saint, who’s perpetually the quiet, broody one of our friend group, cracks a hint of a smile at the ridiculousness.
The rest of the guys break away from the group and head over to where they’ve got the goals set up off the ice in stations.
Our idea was to have them “teach” the kids how to shoot a puck without the logistics of actually getting them on the ice.
That’s a whole different thing with liability and permissions because they could easily get hurt with skating blades or falling on the ice.
This was much more doable, and judging by their squeals of delight when the guys extend a kids-size hockey stick to them, it was totally the right move.
One of the kids, an adorable little girl with bright red hair who looks to be around the age of six, if I had to guess, swings the stick through the air, narrowly missing Bennett. I don’t even bother stifling the laugh that spills out of me.
He jumps back, his eyes wide with slight panic as she giggles uncontrollably and tries once more.
This time, he catches the stick mid-swing, and crouches down.
“Hey, so let’s not do that, ’kay? I need all my body parts so I can play hockey, and you almost took me out.
You know, you might have a future in baseball, kid. ”
She giggles again but nods, lowering it to the ground.
Honestly, it’s so freaking adorable, seeing all of the guys interacting with the kids, and my face hurts from how hard I’m smiling.
That is, until I look up and see Wilder slipping into the building through the double doors.
The smile falls from my face, my lips pulling into a scowl as I cross the room and make a beeline for him.
I ignore the way my heart picks up speed, racing wildly in my chest when I get close enough to smell his fresh bodywash, his scent invading all of my senses.
Screw that.
I’m far too annoyed to be turned on by him.
“Really, Coach Hawthorne?” I whisper yell when I come to a stop in front of him, noting the tense set of his jaw, which is covered in stubble.
His eyes flare with something, something I can’t even place because I’m too busy being annoyed that he’s conveniently decided to show up.
“You know this is something that we were supposed to be working together on, right?”
I’m not even pissed that I handled the setup and everything to do with the event. I’m completely fine with being the one to do all the heavy lifting and just leaving him to be the liaison for the team.
But he could at least show up for the kids, if nothing else.
On time.
“Yes, Maisie, I do know that,” he grunts, his voice low and rough as he glances around at the busy room before stepping closer. “I was taking care of something.”
My brow arches. “Something more important than a bunch of children who are excited to meet you? Sorry, but what is so important that you don’t show up? These kids need people who show up for them, Wilder.”
Who gives a shit about the Coach Hawthorne bullshit.
He’s not acting like an adult right now.
The muscles in his jaw flex before he blows out a sigh, reaching up to rake his hand through his hair.
“It was unavoidable. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
I glare at him. “Yeah. You are.”
Something irrational washes over me when a thought flits through my head.
What if it was… a woman who made him show up late. His dark hair is wet, as if he’d just showered before walking out the door.
Clearly, he had time for that, so I’m very unclear about what else would prevent him from showing up to an event that we’ve had planned for weeks. From being here when his own boss told him he had to be.
The thought of him touching someone else makes my blood simmer in my veins, something ugly tearing free in the pit of my stomach, something I don’t bother to hold back.
“Next time you make a promise to be here, be here, or don’t bother showing up at all. They deserve more than that. Make sure you tell your new bathroom hookup that you’re a flake while you’re at it.”
It’s mean and catty, but the words are out of me before I can stop them.
It’s the first time I think I’ve ever been so confrontational, and I’m blaming the hot torrent of jealousy pouring out of me.
He steps even closer, almost to the point that it’s going to appear inappropriate, his full height towering over me as his gaze darkens, his irises appearing nearly black. “It won’t happen again.”
When I turn to walk away, I feel his fingers curling around my arm, whirling me back toward him.
The contact causes my stomach to dip, my pulse to hammer erratically, and I push down a swallow.
I can’t help my body’s reaction when it comes to him. It’s both frustrating and exhilarating, and part of me wishes that he didn’t have this hold over me. Especially now.
“And just so we’re clear, I wasn’t with a woman. But the next time that you want to act like a jealous little brat… just know that it does nothing but make me want to bend you over my desk and spank the fuck out of your ass.”
He holds my gaze for a beat, the air crackling between us, the rest of the room, the noise, the people, everything drowning out.
“I think we’ve already established that my restraint is razor-thin when it comes to you, so please do not fucking try me, Maisie.”
Bolts of hot, searing thrill run down my spine, that spot in my lower belly cording tight until I feel like I’m going to burst.
Without another word, he brushes past me toward his team, leaving me with my thighs pressed tightly together and my heart still racing against my pulse.
What the hell was that?