Chapter 11 Cassie
Cassie
I’m going to kill Cole Taylor.
But not before I save his career.
Those two thoughts might seem in opposition. Cole’s been making me feel all sorts of contradictions the last week.
Frustration and admiration.
Familiarity and surprise.
Irritation and lust.
Cole has stormed off down the hallway, and I’m left standing on the spot, watching Brad cry to his dad about Cole’s insult.
Admittedly, Cole’s comment was pretty funny and pretty accurate. But why couldn’t he have just played nice and kept it inside?
“Good luck with this one,” Miller says, tapping me on the shoulder on his way past. “You’re gonna need it.”
It takes twenty minutes of apologizing, bargaining, and negotiating with Sterling before the situation is resolved.
By the time I’ve shaken his hand, we’ve agreed that Cole was just having a bad day, and that the front office doesn’t need to know about his comments.
We’ve also agreed that Cole will apologize to Brad, do a complementary commercial for Sterling Insurance, and attend their charity gala in the new year—all while on his best behavior.
I walk out of the suite and back down the stairs, furious.
Glass half full, I try to remind myself. Imagine beating the hell out of some cupcake batter right now. Stay positive.
But it’s not working. I can’t keep bailing Cole out for the rest of the season. We’re supposed to be on the same team here. I’m going to make Cole get the message.
Because otherwise, both our careers will be up in flames by the time the trade deadline rolls around.
I march back down the hallway. I spot Coach Reed, scowling down at his iPad.
“Where’s Cole?” I ask him.
Coach Reed jerks his head toward a door next to us. He looks slightly alarmed at the warpath expression that has replaced my usual sweet smile.
“He’s in there, but—”
I don’t process what he’s saying; I just burst through the door.
“Cole Taylor, we need to talk.”
My tunnel vision fades, and—
Oh no.
Oh no.
The New England Nor’easters look back at me.
Right. I just barged into the team’s locker room.
Heat flushes my skin. “Oh my god. I am so sorry—”
There are gaggles of laughter and a few whistles.
Miller, shirtless and wet-haired, cackles at me from the corner. “Damn, Cassie. I think you got the wrong room. Magic Mike is down the hall and to the right. But I can see how you made that mistake. We’re a sexy bunch of fellas.”
Heat floods my face as my eyes quickly land on Cole, where he sits on the bench. He looks up, his dark brows flexing in surprise, before his expression turns distinctly stormy, and—oh god.
My eyes slide down. There’s a white cotton towel wrapped around his waist.
And nothing else.
He’s broad, muscular, huge. I knew that just from looking at him, but seeing him shirtless really drives it home.
My stare traces the slope of his shoulders down to his taut six-pack abs.
Fresh from the shower. Water drops from his hair, sliding down the line of his throat, over his Adam’s apple. It glints on his skin.
Heat curls in the depths of my stomach. Oh god, the number of times I imagined what it’d feel like to have those arms wrapped around me.
I thought my crush on him was dead and buried, but maybe I’m wrong.
There are ten other ripped hockey stars in here, but I can’t tear my stare off him, and only him.
I blink, remembering I’m in a room full of half-naked Nor’easters.
By some miracle, I rip my stare back up to his face.
“What do you think you’re doing in here?” he asks, voice low and tight.
Great question. But sometimes in life, you just have to double down.
“We need to talk about what just happened back there.” I plant my hands on my hips as if this is exactly how I’d intended the situation to go down, ignoring the flush of warmth running from my face right down the collar of my blouse.
Cole’s expression darkens. Before I know it, he’s rising to his feet. His strong fingers close around my arm, and I’m being tugged after him through a door at the end of the locker room.
“Bye Cassie!” Miller yells behind us. “Come back anytime!”
“Pipe down, horndog,” Landon scolds.
But I don’t hear any more of their chirps. Cole slams the door behind us.
I glance around; we’re in an equipment storage room. At least the parade of half-naked hockey players is gone. But now we’re in an enclosed space and Cole is very much still shirtless, towel around his waist.
“Congratulations,” he says sardonically. “You just fulfilled half of a lifelong fantasy of an entire hockey team.”
My mouth is dry. “Half a fantasy?” I repeat.
“Step one: a beautiful woman walks into the locker room.” His voice roughens. “Don’t ask me about step two, because that’s where the fantasy gets X-rated.”
Beautiful.
My heart flips. Even though he’s mocking me.
Right?
“I’m really sorry about that. I just barged in without thinking. But I really do need to talk to you.”
I blink hard, trying to regain my anger. But it’s been slapped out of the way by exactly what I don’t want to be feeling. Desire, hot and insistent and so unprofessional.
“Well, sunshine? What is it?”
I can’t help it; the stupid nickname makes heat flare in my core. By instinct, as if I’ve been burned, I shrink away and my back hits the stand behind me with a thud.
Shoot—the stack of gloves above me wobbles, and I feel something shift. But Cole’s hand flies out, hitting the stand to the right of my face.
I tear my eyes away from his face and glance to my right. He pinned a pair of gloves to the stand before it hit me.
The swell of his biceps is to the side of my head, bracketing me in. I can see the veins and corded muscle running along his forearm. He’s close enough now that his scent hits me: fresh soap from the shower, mingling with the powerfully masculine scent of clean skin and something raw and earthy.
His eyes are dark, looking down at me from his height, and I can feel the soft warmth of his breath against my skin.
“You were saying?” Cole mutters.
I puff out a sharp, staccato breath of air.
In a rush, the anger floods back into me and the words tumble from my mouth.
“Yes, actually. I have good news and great news. The good news is that I just saved you. Sterling isn’t going to complain to the front office.
” I point an accusing finger at his chest. “Didn’t you listen to what Rick said?
This is your future with the Nor’easters on the line.
Not only that, but the future of my career is in the balance here too.
So get it together, or we’ll both be in serious trouble. We need to be a team for this to work.”
My chest rises and falls hard. For a second, silence hangs between us. Tense and coiled.
Then…
Cole laughs. He actually starts laughing. The sound is deep, rumbling up his chest as he leans his head back against the shelf.
Who knew that Cole laughing was a thing that could actually happen?
“Are you serious?” I ask, exasperated. “This is practically the first time I’ve seen you crack a smile in my presence, and it’s when I’m yelling at you?”
Slowly, his laughter fades. But his grin remains, and the sight makes my chest flutter.
That smile—it’s so perfectly not perfect at all, all crooked and a little coarse but utterly handsome.
It’s suddenly all too easy to see the face of the man I hero-worshipped so hard for years.
The strong, quiet, effortlessly dominant star goalie.
The one who seems to be lost somewhere inside the swirling storm that makes up the man I’ve witnessed over the last week.
Maybe the old Cole is still in there somewhere.
And why can’t I stop thinking about how it’d feel to kiss that crooked smile, to feel his breath on my lips, to be the kind of woman he wants?
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’m laughing because I didn’t think it was possible for Little Miss Sunshine Cassie Wells to get angry.”
“I didn’t think it was possible for you to laugh,” I retort, “so I guess we’re even.”
If only he knew how hard I’ve worked to shut away the angry parts of me so only the optimism remains. I suddenly feel the urge to tell him just that. If I can do it, then he can too. But I keep my mouth shut.
“So, what’s the great news?” he asks.
“You’re going to attend a photoshoot for a campaign and the sponsor gala in the new year.”
He stares at me. “That’s terrible news.”
I shrug. “It was that or get traded.”
He huffs out another laugh. “Okay, fair enough.” His voice turns gruff. “Thank you for dealing with Sterling. You’re right. I just lost my temper and left you there, and that was shitty of me. I shouldn’t have done any of that. What his son said about drinking just… well, it got to me.”
My heart unexpectedly softens. I search his face for the bits of the story he’s obviously not telling me, but I can’t read past the guarded expression in his eyes.
“I put you in a difficult position,” he continues. “I’m sorry for that. From now on, I’ll try to remember you and I are on the same team.”
I’m so shocked I can’t even form a sentence before he’s swinging open the equipment room door and walking back into the locker room.
Cole laughing and Cole apologizing.
This is a day to be remembered.
For that, and for the half-naked hockey team.
I follow Cole out, shielding my eyes. “Sorry again, everyone,” I call out.
Miller bounds up to me and blocks my hurried path. “Relax, Cassie. We’re all dressed now. But that’s totally going to go down in team legend.”
“Great,” I say weakly, letting my hand-shield drop.
“How were your seven minutes in heaven with Cole?” he teases.
“Hell,” I deadpan. “Seven minutes in hell.”
Miller just smirks. “Lucky woman. We all know Cole is gifted down there.”
My face heats. That’s information I could have done without knowing. It’s just going to make my fantasies all the bigger—
I mean, stronger.
“Shut it, Miller,” Cole says. I jump, turning around. I didn’t know he was still within earshot.
I quickly make a beeline for the locker room door, but before I can slip out, Cole gently catches my arm, leaning in.
“Trust me, sunshine,” he murmurs. His voice is coarse with something I’ve never heard from him before. “I give women a hell of a lot more than seven minutes.”
I don’t reply. I just hightail it out of there, because heat is fluttering through every inch of me.
I count the minutes all the way back to my apartment.
Just to see how many sets of seven the journey takes.
And I’m thinking about Cole during every one of them.