Chapter 14 Cassie
Cassie
After the game, I catch up on agency emails while I wait for the team to get out of the visitors’ locker room. There’s a while until the team bus arrives to take everyone back to the hotel.
I’d been apprehensive about the whole road game travel thing. But the hotel nearly changed my mind. It’s a point of pride for me that I’m not like the other rich, well-connected junior agents like Spencer at Legacy Sports. But I had the best sleep in years in the luxurious king-size hotel bed.
I glance up to see Cole walking toward me. My pulse skitters at how handsome he looks. He’s changed into a gray shirt and dark jacket over athletic sweatpants.
He nods a greeting. “Hey. Ready to head out?”
“The bus hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Confused, I follow Cole out through the doors. We’ve barely made it away from the building before I hear shouts.
Oh—this is where all the fans are waiting for the team to exit. There are a few cheers from a gaggle of people in New England jerseys standing behind railings. Surprise hits me. It doesn’t seem like something Cole would be into, greeting fans before the team bus arrives.
“Dad! Dad! That’s him!”
A little kid, probably about seven years old, rushes around the railings toward Cole and nearly bumps into his legs.
His dad follows after him, looking rueful. “Sorry about him, he’s excited—”
“Oh my gosh, you’re Cole Taylor!” the kid yells.
I brace myself for Cole being irritated. Instead, a warm expression touches his features. “You got that right. And what’s your name?”
The little boy looks star-struck for a second.
“Kevin,” he says breathlessly, pushing up the Nor’easters cap that’s way too big for his head.
“Kev, let’s not bother the man,” his dad says quickly, but Cole waves him off with a smile.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty excited to meet Kevin here myself.”
The boy blinks in awe. “Can I get your autograph?” He pronounces it more like autogwaph.
Cole nods. “Of course. I’ll write you a special message.”
I watch as Cole drops into a squat so he can talk to the kid a little closer to eye level. Kevin chatters away as Cole signs the game poster, nodding at all the right moments.
“I want to play hockey when I’m grown up,” the boy says solemnly. “I think I could be a really good goalie, just like you.”
Cole’s eyes crinkle. “I bet you could, too. Just remember to practice hard, and that family always comes before hockey. So you be good for your dad, how does that sound?”
Kevin nods enthusiastically.
His dad smiles and offers Cole a handshake. “Thanks, man. My parents are from Boston, so we’re big Nor’easters fans.”
Cole spends the next twenty minutes talking to every fan waiting for him—especially the little kids.
He walks back over to me as the team bus rolls into the loading dock.
I feel my smile tilt upward. “Thought you hate being bothered by fans in public.”
“Call me egotistical if you want, but it can be a big deal for fans to see us play live. The ones who live in different parts of the country only get a few chances to see us play in person a year. I remember what it’s like being a little kid hockey fan who lived a six-hour drive from the closest arena.
” He shrugs. “When we’re on the road, sometimes I like to put some time aside to sign autographs for the kids. ”
“That’s really kind of you, Cole.” I pause, thinking something over. “You know, you could tell Rick that you do nice things like that. That could definitely help your public image.”
His expression flickers. “I don’t want it to be a PR thing. It’s not about that.”
Shoot. I feel like I said the wrong thing. His expression loses some of its warmth.
“That’s okay,” I say softly. “Honestly, maybe it’s better that way. It’s just for you and them.”
Slowly, a grin spreads over his face. “That’s not very agent-y of you, 007.”
“Being sweet to fans isn’t very asshole goalie of you, either.” I flash him a smile. “Guess we’ll just have to keep surprising each other.”
Back at the hotel, Cole pauses outside the entrance to the lobby, letting the rest of the team stream past.
“I’m still wired from the game,” he says. “Thought I might go look at the view from the hotel roof. You want to come?”
“Oh.” I can’t hide my smile. “Sure.”
We take the elevator up to the roof. As we walk out, a rush of cold air touches my shoulders. I’ve barely had time to shiver, and before I know it, Cole is slouching off his jacket and draping it around my shoulders.
A flush runs up my neck. “Cole, you don’t have to do that.”
He shrugs. “Haven’t you noticed by now, sunshine? When I do something, it’s not because I have to. It’s because I want to.”
Chivalry and Cole are two words I’d never expect to go together.
And yet.
And yet, his jacket hangs around my shoulders. I can still feel his warmth on it, wrapping around me. His scent lingers on it too, something raw and masculine like wood and sharp winter air. I try not to stare at how his t-shirt clings to his muscles.
We both sit down in the deck chairs next to the edge of the rooftop. The city lights glitter on the water in the distance.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe. “I love the reflection of lights in the water. How colorful and shimmery it gets.”
“It’s no New England coastline. But I’d rather be by the water than basically anywhere else.” He shrugs. “I like the sea. It calms me down.”
“I’ll add that to the list of things you like. So far, the list includes hockey and… the sea.”
“There are other things on the list.”
“Yeah? Name one thing.”
He thinks, frowning. “Wait. Give me a minute. I can think of something.”
I laugh. “Spoken like a true man from a little Maine fishing village. Stoneport would be proud.”
His eyebrows raise. “How’d you know the name of my hometown?”
I draw my legs up and try to make my expression casual, unbothered.
The real reason I know Cole grew up in Stoneport, Maine, population 2,000, is that for years Cole was my very favorite hockey player. I read all his interviews.
But my stomach fills with dread at the idea of telling him that.
“You’re famous, Cole,” I reply lightly. “Duh. And anyway, my boss is your agent. It’s my job to know everything about his clients.”
“Everything?” he smirks. “Prove it.”
“I know you hate having a babysitter.”
“What a mind reader,” Cole deadpans. “I thought I’d been so subtle about my feelings on Rick’s scheme.”
“Okay, then,” I challenge. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“What do you want to know?”
I bite my lip, but the words still tumble out. “How about you tell me more about home?”
His jaw clenches. I don’t know why, but this is a subject that is sore for him.
I think he’s going to shut it down and tell me no.
But he doesn’t.
“Home is… it’s six hours north of Boston.
It’s got a fishing pier, a diner, a library, and not much else.
I haven’t lived there since I was seventeen.
The town stayed still while I moved on. My parents still live up there, with my little sister, Jess.
” Warmth bleeds into his deep-green eyes.
“She’s six years younger than me, so I’ve always been protective of her.
She’s smart. Rebellious and a little chaotic, but very kind. ”
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She is. I just wish I’d been around more.
I sacrificed home for hockey. My dad’s a fisherman up there, and he expected me to help run the business, until it turned out I was pretty damn good at the hockey thing.
Before I knew it, I was in the NHL. I’d visit home when I could, but with such a demanding job, it’s hard to find the balance.
Part of me is scared I can’t undo all that time I lost.”
My breath catches. I’ve never heard Cole use the word ‘scared’ before. I thought it wasn’t in his vocabulary.
“It’s good you chased your dreams,” I say softly. “You belong in the league.”
His eyes have darkened as if he’s somewhere else.
I wish I could reach inside and see where he’s gone.
“Anyway,” he says abruptly. “Your turn to answer a question. Why do you want to get that promotion so badly?”
I stare out at the lights dancing on the water.
“I could tell you it’s because I’ve always loved hockey. Or because I enjoy advocating for athletes. Or because I have a brain that perversely enjoys contracts.”
Cole laughs, rough and deep. “That is perverse. Dirty as hell.”
My stomach dips at hearing Cole say the word dirty.
It would sound so much better in a very different context.
I force myself to continue.
“But really, I want the promotion because sometimes I’m afraid I don’t belong in the hockey world at all. I’m afraid that it’s going to reject me. If I become a real agent, then I think I can finally let go of that fear.”
“Why do you think you don’t belong?” he asks. His voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it, and it makes me turn to him in surprise.
My voice fails me.
How do I tell him I’m the abandoned child of a beloved retired hockey star? That I’m terrified the industry that loves him and might put a black mark next to my name if they knew I’m his buried secret?
“It’s complicated.”
Cole assesses me. I’m struck with the feeling he sees right through me, like he knows for certain I’m holding back.
He shrugs. “It’s okay, I get it. Talking about feelings sucks.”
I laugh, despite myself. “Once in a blue moon, it’s okay to open up to someone, I guess.”
He glances up at the sky, smile crooked. “Doesn’t look blue to me, sunshine.”
For a moment, I consider this.
Then I reach into my purse and grab my cheap sunglasses. Yep. Tinted through the glass, the curved slice of the moon looks pale blue.
I hold the glasses out in front of his face, triumphant.
“That doesn’t count,” he says, stubborn.
“It totally counts.”
He stares through the glasses. “Hey, look. It’s the Seven Sisters. Hard to see with the city lights, but it’s there.”
“You know the constellations?”
He lowers the glasses and lies back further against the chair. “Used to get a great view of them back home at night. I’d watch them as a kid.”
Cautiously, I lay my head down too. Our chairs are pressed up against each other. Heat trickles along my spine as it hits me how close I’m lying next to him.
“Where? Over there?” I point toward a faint cluster of stars.
“No. Here.”
Cole’s strong fingers loop around my outstretched hand. Shivers explode across my skin. He guides my hand left, closer to his body, and lines it up with a glinting pattern of pinpricks in the sky above.
“There,” he mutters, voice rough in his throat.
Slowly, he traces out the shape, guiding my hand.
“I see it,” I breathe. “It’s beautiful.”
He’s so close to my body. I pray he can’t feel my heart, its pace beating harder and needier against my ribs.
It’d be easy for him to shift his huge muscular body and roll over so he was on top of me in the dark. Covering me. Swallowing me up.
For a second, there’s silence. I barely dare to pull my gaze over to his face.
But when I turn, I find he’s already looking at me. Dark hair, looking even inkier in the low light. Eyes, just a glint of green. Pupils wide.
He lowers my hand, gently placing it by the side of my face.
I think he’s going to return his own hand to his side. But instead, his fingers skim over my jaw.
His thumb settles on my lower lip. A soft gasp leaves my mouth.
“The view down here on earth is pretty beautiful too.” His voice comes out deep and rough. “More beautiful, actually.”
My pulse goes wild, but I can’t move. He doesn’t look away for a split second.
Slowly, he drags his thumb across the soft curve of my lip.
Though it’s been a few years, I remember what it’s like being touched by a man all over my body. Not just my lips. But this feels more intimate than any other touch I’ve ever experienced.
“Cole…” I whisper. I’m not sure how the sentence is going to end. Something about professional boundaries. Something I probably don’t really mean.
But Cole rises to his feet before I can find out. The sudden space between us instantly feels freezing cold.
He heads for the door, only turning back once. “Goodnight, Cassie,” he says over his shoulder.
And I’m left alone, my heart still racing. What just happened? I sit up, drawing my knees to my chest, and it hits me I’m still wearing his jacket. I should probably take it off. Return it. But I just pull it closer around my shoulders. Imagining it’s his arms instead.
Maybe it’s okay if I fantasize about the NHL star I’m supposed to be supervising.
But only once in a blue moon.