Chapter 12 Emmett
EMMETT
Idon't do parties, it's not my thing. People tell me I'm gruff.
The guys tell me I always look angry. But that's just my face.
I can't make it do anything else. But this is literally a couple of steps down the corridor, so technically I'm not really leaving the comfort of my own home.
And it's for Pierre and Felix and they've both been solid teammates.
They also asked me to keep an eye on their sister when each of them moved out.
Collette keeps to herself and works in the social media team.
I see her when she's harassing me with a mini microphone.
But she's a good laugh. They have another sister, I forget her name, who moved over from London and is joining us as one of the team's physios.
As the captain, I should try, especially as we'll be working closely when we injure ourselves.
I'm staring at my closet, overthinking what I should wear. This is why I hate parties, I'm either underdressed or overdressed for the occasion. Jeans and a tee should be okay. Shouldn't it? It's just friends. Nothing formal. I decide on a navy Henley and dark jeans. It's good enough.
My phone buzzes.
Sully: Where are you? Party started 20 mins ago.
Shit. I didn't realize the time.
Emmett: On my way.
Sully: Bring more beer.
I grab a six-pack from my fridge and head to the door. Deep breath. Let's get this over with.
Pierre's apartment is at the other end of the hall. I knock, and the door swings open.
"Cap! Finally. Get in here," Felix answers enthusiastically.
He pulls me inside the apartment where music is playing, there are people talking and laughing together.
The apartment is packed. Well, packed for a small gathering.
Sully, Fish, Bouch, Nelly, Evan, and a few other guys that must be friends of Pierre and Felix that I don't know.
I notice Harper and Issy, their partners, talking to Collette and a couple of other beautiful women I've not met before.
Before Felix has a chance to introduce me to them, Pierre spots me from the kitchen.
"Emmett!" he calls out, waving me over.
"Catch up later, Cap," Felix says as he pulls his partner into his side and kisses her.
I head over to where Pierre is.
"Glad you made it." He grins. "I can take those if you like.
" He looks down at my beers. I let him take the six-pack from my hands, he gives me one and puts the rest in the drinks’ fridge.
I look around and everyone's mingling, drinking, and having fun.
I need to relax and stop being so awkward.
Pierre takes a swig of his beer and joins me.
"You must be happy that your sister is close by now," I say.
His face lights up. "I am. This will be the first time since we were kids that we've lived near each other.
I left when I was a teen and came to New York to live with my agent.
Then as my career took off, I moved around a lot while she stayed back home and studied.
" I nod as I sip my beer. "Do you have siblings?
Can't remember if it's ever come up before? "
"I have a sister back in Wisconsin. We're twins actually."
"No way. Twins. I'm guessing she doesn't have a beard," Pierre teases, which makes me laugh.
"Don't ever let her hear you say that. She has a mean right hook."
"Noted." He smirks, then his eyes widen behind me. "Finally. Hey, I want you to meet the team's captain, Emmett Black."
I turn around.
And freeze.
No.
No fucking way.
It's her.
London.
The club.
The hotel.
The girl I've been thinking about for months.
She's standing there. Staring at me. Same dark hair. Same hazel eyes. Same face that haunts my nights.
But now she's here. In New York. In my teammate's apartment.
How?
"Cap, this is my sister, Joelle. Or Jo," Pierre explains.
Oh fuck.
She's Pierre and Felix's sister. The team's physio. My new neighbor. For a moment, neither of us moves, and we just stare at one another. Her eyes are wide and she wears the same surprised expression I'm probably wearing.
Pierre looks between us, wondering why we are acting weird.
"Nice to meet you," I force out, extending my hand to Joelle.
She stares at it like it might bite her before taking it. Her skin is warm. Soft. Tingles race up my arm as images of her chestnut hair spread out beneath me flash through my mind.
"Nice to meet you, too," she says through gritted teeth.
We shake. It's brief. Polite. But neither one of us looks away.
"Jo just flew in from London yesterday," Pierre says. "Jet lag's probably killing her, but I appreciate her letting me throw this party."
"It's fine," she says, pulling her hand from mine like I burned her.
"Pierre," Issy calls out.
"My girl's calling." He disappears.
The second he's gone, she steps back, putting distance between us.
"You're fucking kidding me right now," she hisses.
"Wish I was," I answer, sipping my beer. It’s kind of funny but also not.
"You're the captain. You play with my brothers." She looks angry.
"And you're the new physio," I say, draining my beer. I need another to deal with this.
She crosses her arms, defensively, as if this was my plan all along. But it just pushes her tits up and I remember the way they bounced when I fucked her. I force my eyes to her face. It's much safer there. That's a lie. Her face is fucking stunning. But ... anyway. It doesn’t matter. Focus.
"You could've mentioned you were a professional hockey player," she hisses.
"You could've mentioned your last name was St. Pierre."
"Why would I tell some random hookup my real name?"
"Some random hookup?" The words sting more than they should.
"That's exactly what it was," she argues back.
"Right." I step closer. She doesn't back down. "And now that random hookup is your boss."
She laughs. "You're not my boss. You're the captain of a team I work for. I report to the medical staff, not you." She looks at me with disdain.
"Semantics."
"Facts."
We're close now. Too close. I can smell her perfume. It’s different from London but just as intoxicating.
"Let's pretend London never happened," I say through gritted teeth. It's a lie, but it's one I need to tell myself to forget her.
"Already forgotten. It was hardly memorable," she spits back at me.
Her words cut me deeper than I'd like. "Liar." My eyes narrow on her.
Her eyes flash. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You haven't forgotten shit."
"You have a high opinion of yourself."
"Please. The way you were screaming while I fucked you tells me everything I need to know."
The icy look she gives me tells me I’ve crossed the line. "Fuck you." She seethes.
"You wish."
"No, you wish," she argues back. "I know you haven't forgotten either."
"No. I haven't. Not even close." My confession silences her. She swallows slowly, not expecting my truth.
"The past doesn't matter. We're colleagues now. That's it," she tells me.
"Agreed. I've got rules. Team policy."
"Good thing I've got rules, too. I don't fuck hockey players," she says, looking me up and down.
"Could've fooled me. You seemed to rather enjoy fucking this hockey player."
"Shh," she hisses at me as she looks around to see if anyone has noticed our conversation. But everyone is busy talking amongst themselves, too distracted to notice us arguing.
"That was before I knew what you were." Her voice drops to a whisper.
"And what's that?"
"A mistake."
Ouch.
"Right back at you, Trouble."
"Don't call me that." She steps closer, looking all angry and beautiful.
"We're not doing nicknames. We're not friends.
" Those hazel eyes sparkle with fury, then they dip to my lips for the briefest of moments.
I notice the pulse at her throat, remember licking my way across it, feeling it throb underneath my tongue.
Fuck. My dick twitches.
"You left," I say, my voice rougher than I intend.
"What?"
"London. I woke up and you were gone. No note. No number. No name. Nothing."
She looks at me with confusion on her face. "We said one night," she answers me softly.
"I know what we said."
"Then why does it matter?"
"Because ..." I stop, unable to finish that sentence.
"Because what?" Her brows pull together.
"Forget it," I tell her, feeling the heat race up the back of my neck. I'm not good with all this shit.
"No. Say it," she pushes.
Fine. "In the morning, I wanted more." The words are out before I can stop them.
She stares. "What?"
"You left before I could ask for your number. Before I could ..." I run my hand through my hair. "Doesn't matter now."
"I had a flight to Italy to catch for Pierre's wedding."
Right. The wedding that didn't happen. "You could've woken me up."
"Why? So, we could have an awkward morning after conversation? Make promises we wouldn't keep?"
“No. What I wanted to do was fuck you again.”
She stares at me, mouth slightly ajar, then she shakes her head. "It doesn't matter because look where we are now. You're my colleague. My brother's captain. This ..." She gestures between us. "This can never happen again."
“No shit.”
"Glad we are on the same page.”
"Me too.”
But neither of us moves.
"Stay out of my way while at work," I tell her.
"Gladly. Try not to get injured. I'd hate to have to touch you."
Images flash through my mind, her hands on my skin, my mouth on hers, the sounds she made. I'm getting hard, right here, at a party full of my teammates.
"Won't be a problem. I'm in peak physical condition."
"I know," she mumbles. But I don't think she was supposed to have said that out loud as her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Good. Because I plan to do my job and nothing else."
"Wouldn't expect anything less," I bite back.
"Perfect." She moves to leave, but her shoulder brushes mine as she passes.
The contact shoots straight to my dick. Lord, help me. "Joelle," I call out to her.
She stops. "What?"
"For what it's worth ..." I pause. "London was the best night I've had in years."
She tenses. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
She doesn’t answer and walks away. I watch her go. Watch her join Collette and the other women. Watch her laugh at something Harper says.
"Cap!" Sully appears. "You good?"
"I'm fine."
"You and Pierre's sister talked for a while. And now you're staring at her like you either want to kill her or fuck her.”
“Sully!”
"You are, luckily, Pierre is distracted by his woman. Otherwise, if he caught you lusting after his sister, you'd be toast."
"I wasn't. She's fucking annoying if I'm being honest."
Sully raises his brows at me. "What the hell, bro?"
I shake my head. "Well, she is."
Sully looks at me like I've lost my mind. Then his eyes narrow. "She's hot."
"What the fuck? You're the one who's toast if they hear you talk like that," I warn him.
"What? You can't tell me you don't think the St. Pierre sisters aren't cute?"
"They are off-limits," I warn him.
"No shit. But I have eyes."
"You're treading on thin ice."
"And you're avoiding the question," he pushes.
"Fine. They're hot. Happy? But I will deny I ever said that."
This makes him smile. "Lighten up. It's a party." I glare at him. "I think you need a beer to loosen up."
We head to the kitchen. But I can still feel her, even across the room. This is going to be a long fucking season.