Chapter 3 - Allison
The scanner lights up green when I scan my ID card to get through to my office located near the ice rink. I shiver as the cold seeps through my thin blazer.
I’m excited for today. This event has been in the works for three months now. Is it a little cliche? Absolutely. It’s still gonna sell like hot cakes. Half naked hockey players holding adorable little puppies for adoption? Everyone and their grandmas order one.
My heels click on the stone floor the entire way to the rink where Emalyn is waiting for me.
She’s already got her camera and equipment being set up by her dutiful intern. She grins when she sees me.
“Hey Allison! You ready?” She gives a little shimmy that makes her dark curls bounce. She doesn’t have to elaborate for me to understand she’s talking about getting paid to ogle the shirtless players.
I let a flirty grin spread across my lips and bounce my brows twice. “You know it!”
“Ladies, try not to get too friendly with the players. After last year, there’s a close eye on staff boundaries.” Andrew says, pushing his silver rimmed glasses up his nose slightly. His words are polite but there’s a hint of warning.
I give a single nod.
As a PR agent who is also running the team's social media platforms singlehandedly, I have little downtime. Though, even if I had the time, been there, done that. I have a no athletes rule now.
I need to stay focused, so Andrew recommends me to take his place as head of the department when he retires in June.
Less hours, less labour. More pay; more power.
Emalyn loops her elbow through mine and leads me away.
The players aren’t on the ice yet. They’re still getting ready in the locker room. I check my watch. Perfect.
“The puppies should be back from their walks any minute so it will work perfectly if we get started in about twenty minutes. Think you’ll be set?”
“Yes, we can do their ice shots with the pups for socials first. Then everyone's photo op with their month’s props and back drops in the flex room after. Sounds good?”
“Sounds great.” I flash a grin. I love how efficient Emalyn is. The girl doesn’t play around.
“Allison? TJ asked me to let you know he couldn’t be in today. Apparently, he has come down with the flu. Coach Randall told him to stay home so he doesn’t spread it to the other players.” My assistant Talia informs me with a grimace.
My ex-husband, TJ, who has my phone number because we share a son, decided to go through my assistant last minute?
I take a calming breath. If he had the flu, then there’s no way he can take Hudson for his weekend. They were supposed to go away for the weekend, and I had made plans with Emalyn and Dakota.
Obviously, I can easily cancel them but that’s not the point.
He seemed fine at yesterday's practice. Of course he didn’t text me himself.
He always finds the easiest way out of anything that requires basic communication.
And now Hudson’s weekend is probably off, which means mine is too. Great. Exactly what I needed today.
“Thanks, Talia. Let’s just get this show on the road without him. Do we have any other willing players? Maybe Ronan?”
Emalyn scrunches her face at the suggestion. “Ew, please no. Anyone else.”
“Actually, Em, He’s already in the lineup. Viktor had a previous sponsorship obligation,” Talia says slowly. She takes a cautious step back when Emalyn narrows her eyes.
“Okay, I’ll just have to go ask Coach Randall to choose someone else. Be right back.”
“Ooh, or you could ask Coach Randall to participate.” Emalyn's eyes actually twinkle as she bounces her brows and bites her lip. “What I would give to see that man shirtless. Talk about a silver fox.”
My jaw drops open even as a surprised laugh falls from my lips. She’s never been so brazen in her ogling before.
“Emalyn!” I cover my mouth to stifle my giggles.
“I don’t think he’s old enough to be a silver fox. His hair is still brown.” Talia frowns.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I shake my head trying to tamp down my smile. I shouldn’t indulge her inappropriate jokes, amusing as they are.
I turn to head to his office but run into a hard chest. I let out an oof as the brick wall doesn’t even move. The goalie is looking past me with his ice blue eyes narrowed on Emalyn.
“He’s a little old for you don’t you think Emmy?” Ronan's face contorts into a fake smile.
She is the picture of mock innocence as she fiddles with her schedule. She tilts her head and taps her pen to her mouth in consideration. “Hm, maybe but I think I'd like a man with experience.”
Ronan scoffs and leads me away by my elbow before I can protest. He raises his voice loud enough that Emalyn can hear, “Come on, Alli. Let’s go pick out an age-appropriate stand in.”
He practically drags me down the hall, past the coach's office and muttering under his breath all the while. “That girl is something else.”
He picks up speed, which is just rude because my heels are not built for emergencies. I roll my lips in, so I don’t laugh. Those two go at it like cats and dogs. It’s then that I notice the door he’s stopped outside of.
Absolutely not. Nothing good happens past this point. Nothing.
I dig my heels in.
“Oh no, I’m not going in there.” I pull my arm back. He keeps his loose grip on my arm but assures me it’s fine. He pokes his head in first. “Everyone decent? Visitor!” He shouts and not even a second later is dragging me into the room.
When my eyes snag on very muscular and broad shoulders that taper down to a sculpted and tan ass, my soul leaves my body. Just exits the chat. There should’ve been a warning sign or a foghorn or something before getting hit with a full HD view of that.
Wait, is that a…? I slap my hand over my eyes.
I let out an indignant squeak as heat shoots up my neck so fast, I’m surprised I don't trip the emergency sprinklers. Ronan lets out a snort because he knows I'm two seconds from fainting.
“Texas, what part of ‘visitor’ don’t you understand?” Ronan barks out but I hear the smile in his voice.
“Sorry, Cap. I’m ready n-oh.” A familiar southern draw hits my ears and trails down my spine like honey. “Christ, what happened to the five-minute rule?”
Ronan ignores him.
“Everyone not already participating in the calendar, line up against this far wall. Let’s go!” Ronan peels my hand from my face. I blink a few times as they adjust to the light again. My eyes betray me as they seek out… wait, did he say Texas?
My eyes snap up to scan the now lined up players.
I go down the row until my eyes land on, yep, my neighbor.
My stomach tightens. Tate. Just standing there like this is completely normal.
The one man I should steer clear of in every possible way, and here he is, half naked and looking right at me.
I am not prepared for this. Standing there in his black Calvin's like he was sculpted by the angels.
Of course, the first man I'm attracted to after my messy divorce is off limits in all areas of my life. Not only does he work for the team, but he also lives right next door. And if I know my son, Tate is his new best friend's dad. No way am I going there.
But damn, does he look like he would know just what to do with a woman like me.
Oh my God, Allison. Stop staring, you creep.
His gaze falls to where I'm biting my lip and he smirks. I quickly avert my eyes. For a shirtless contest everyone but Tate is fully dressed.
“Okay! Alli here is gonna take a look at you studs and decide who is gonna stand in for TJ in the calendar shoot.”
A chorus of boos and complaints go up in protest. A lot of people voice my own concern which is that he did it on purpose.
“You need to get your man on a leash, Alli!” The rook and left winger, Ryan Quade calls out. He doesn’t mean any harm. At nineteen, he’s just still got some growing up to do. He flashes me a boyish grin to show me his joking.
A few of TJs friends on the team however guffaw and act like that’s the most outrageous thing ever.
“Yea Right. He was hardly on a leash last night at Escapade.” Tony scoffs loud enough for the entire team to hear.
My face heats and I dip my head. It stings—way more than I want it to.
I hate that hearing about TJ’s extracurriculars still lands like a punch to the ribs.
The man can’t show up for our kid’s weekend, but he can sure show up for the VIP room.
I laugh with the guys, but that ugly twist in my stomach doesn’t go away.
They think it’s all jokes but hearing the man who once promised me forever turned into a locker-room punchline is… exhausting.
“He’s not her man anymore. It’s called divorce.” Liam Fitzgerald, a first line defenseman, calls out and then folds his hands in prayer and dramatically groans. “Thank God for it, right Alli?”
I shoot him a grateful smile.
“It’s kinda like fishing huh? Throw the small ones back and all that.” Tate surprises me by throwing out. The locker room explodes in laughter. Ryan and Jordan clap him on the back.
“Texas got jokes, huh?” Jordan shakes his shoulder a couple of times. Tate grins and throws me a wink.
“Texas has something that’s for sure.” Ronan mumbles under his breath where only I can hear. “It’s the same as what Emalyn has for me.”
I snort. “Indifference, then?”
He rolls his eyes. Then in a moment of instant karma, he orders the shirts off. “It’s a shirtless photo op, gentlemen.”
Shirts fly off like we’re in some kind of sports-themed Chippendales revue.
Any other woman would be drooling. Honestly, I would too—if I weren’t too busy dying inside.
Hearing my failed marriage broadcast in a locker room is…
great. Just fantastic. Exactly how I wanted to start this day.
I shouldn’t be thinking about any of these men’s bodies, especially not Tate’s, but my traitorous brain is already filing away details for the lonely-night archives.
“Pick your victims,” Ronan elbows me lightly. “Your eye candy over there can't be all twelve months.”
I tense. I hadn't even realized my gaze kept drifting back to Tate. And his delicious V…
Fantastic. I’m basically eye-fucking the man and didn’t even notice. Real smooth, Allison. Truly thriving. Next thing I know, I’ll be doodling ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ in my planner like a full deranged teenager.
I let out a breath and chance a glance at Ronan. He's wearing a shit eating grin he had no hopes of even trying to hide.
I elbow him much harder than he did me and roll my eyes.
“Ow! Stop, I’ve just never seen you actually show interest in anyone. I thought you were a nun trapped in marriage.” Ronan rubs the spot that I elbowed.
“Keep it up. I'll have Emalyn come take care of this for me.
You know how she is too. She'd have to get up close and personal to make sure she chose the best candidate.
Maybe even run her hand over all those abs–“I wiggle my fingers in the direction of the players and Ronan snatches my hand out of the air.
“Hey, don't you dare. The only abs Emalyn is allowed to touch are mine, ok?” While he's scowling now, I shoot him a smug smile.
“You wish.” Turning to the players now I tap my finger against my chin. I have to pick two men and I'm pretending I don't already know who it's going to be.
My heels click as I walk closer to the massive men lined up like good little soldiers. They're all quiet now as I walk past each one, deciding who's a good balance of handsome and defined muscles. Ryan Quade and Liam Fitzgerald are trying to out flex and out-pose each other.
Ryan has that boyish type of handsomeness. He's got the blonde hair and the blue eyes that earn him plenty of attention from women. The happy go lucky personality that his coaches and teammates love. I think he’s just a bit young for the photo shoot.
Liam's all tattoos up to his jawline with a short fade and stands a few inches taller.
A horizontal scar cuts just below the arch of his eyebrow.
He's a playboy through and through. This is his second season in the NHL at twenty-two. Not much older than Ryan. Still, it’ll be good to have a variety in the calendar.
“Hmmm. Fitzy you can go see Emalyn to get set up for October.”
Fitz blows Ryan a kiss and jumps away to narrowly avoid the towel swat that comes his way. I pretend to evaluate Tony, TJs buddy. I give him a slow appraisal, and I can tell by the way he lifts his chin he thinks he should be on the cover itself.
“Eh.” I move on.
He scoffs and heads to his locker, pretending like he didn't want to do it in the first place.
I stop in front of Tate's chest still tan from the Texas sun even though it's already the beginning of December.
There's a light dusting of dark hair across his chest and cursive writing on his ribs that I would have to examine closer to be able to read.
A cross made up of two iron nails on the inside of his left bicep catches my eye as he runs a hand intentionally through the brown hair that seems to toe the line between perfectly mussed and messy.
I let my eyes glide over his torso, down to the delicious happy trail that disappears into his briefs. The air in the room thickens.
Attraction is perfectly normal. It doesn’t mean anything. I can appreciate his physique without jumping his bones.
I feel the intensity of his gaze even though I avoid it.
“You'll do, I suppose.”
Instead of taking it as a hit to the ego like I expect the corners of his lips twitch. He leans down - close enough I can smell the manly yet pleasant scent of his body wash. His breath hits my ear as he drops his voice.
“I will. Whatever you tell me to.” My breath stutters. I feel that promise in a heat that blooms through my core and shoots out to my fingertips.
My eyelids flutter closed.
And just like that he’s taken back the power. Again.
Tate saunters past me wearing nothing but confidence and boxer briefs.
Stupid athletes and their stupid confidence. Why couldn’t my type be accountants or something?
This is exactly why I have my rule in place.
I fight the urge to stamp my foot like an incessant toddler.
Ronan has an elbow propped on his other folded arm and covers his mouth to hide his delight. He loves to see me on the receiving end of the same shit Emalyn has been dealing him for years.
“Don’t even.” I jab a finger into my brother’s chest as I stalk past, cheeks on fire.
He huffs out a laugh and holds his hands up in surrender.
“I didn’t.” His grin says it for him. It drops when Emmalyn bursts in the door with no warning.
Suddenly he’s swinging his arms about in outrage. “What are you doing in here?! Try knocking! And then waiting five minutes! Any one of them could’ve been naked!”
I delight in the way his voice cracks like a teenager.
“Damn, I missed it.” She snaps her fingers and grabs me to haul me back for the event.
“Hey, I’ll give you a show anytime, anyplace.” He trails along behind her like one of the puppies up for adoption. Tongue hanging out and all.