Chapter 3 #2
The dream a few nights before tumbled into the forefront of my stressed-out brain. It had been so vivid, so… real. Then the mud stuck between my toes. I’d seen no evidence of where I’d been the morning after, which bothered me even more than the graphic details lingering in my mind even now.
The combination of being unable to heal and the damn dream wasn’t only unusual. The situation could become critical. Sadly, I didn’t know how or why. Maybe a private conversation with my father was in order.
I rubbed my shoulder, hissing as a jarring jolt of electric prods skittered all the way down my arm.
“Look, bud, I’m not your keeper but maybe you need to listen to the coach. For once.”
All I had the energy for was tossing him a look. “There’s too much riding on this.”
“Did you hear the news?” Danny came to a skidded stop in front of us, ice shavings tossed.
“What news?” I wasn’t really in the mood to hear of some hot new bar opening in Seattle.
His grin widened, covering most of his face. “That rumor we heard about Portland getting a franchise. Might be true.” The last words were singsong, Danny shrugging before he did his own version of the moon walk.
“We’ve heard that rumor for years,” Finn tossed out.
We had. Portland had a solid fan base, enough the entire town, including the town council had been clamoring to create a franchise for years. “What have you heard?”
“The city council is in final talks with the NHL board of governors. Could happen this year.”
“Fuck me,” Finn said. “If only I were a free agent.”
“What’s wrong with Vancouver?” I threw out.
“Nothing. If you like cold weather.”
I lifted my eyebrow, snorting as I did. “And you think Portland is any better?” I headed off the ice, already trying to figure out my next excuse. At this point, I was close to my bag of tricks being empty.
“I heard the puck bunnies are cool,” Finn called after me.
Puck bunnies. That’s all he cared about. Sure, having women hang all over us at games and afterwards, being able to choose one for a night had been fabulous in the beginning. We were horny guys after all, sowing our wild oats.
But we were also serious about playing hockey and moving up in our careers.
The girls had suddenly all started to look alike.
Then the shit had grown old very quickly. At least for me. For Finn? Well, he was a regular man-whore. I laughed as I tossed my skates into my locker. I’d take a shower after being reprimanded. The coach had the patience of… A wolf during a hunt.
I lifted my head toward the ceiling, squeezing my shoulder. Why the hell wouldn’t the ache calm down? After taking several deep breaths, I slammed my locker door just as Finn popped into the locker room.
“You wanna grab a burger and a couple beers tonight?” he asked. “Maybe it’ll take your mind off everything. I got a text from a hot as shit blonde. She has a friend.” He peered at me sheepishly, the same shit-eating grin on his face.
Yeah, he was a man always up for a party. He could afford to dick around for another year or two.
Not this guy.
I grabbed my bag, tossing it over my good shoulder. “Not tonight. I’ve got a few things to do. Maybe you can handle them yourself.”
“You know I can.” Finn laughed, doing a little dance that did nothing but annoy me.
Why? Because lately it felt as if I had the weight of the world on my shoulders.
My mood had slipped into the toilet. Maybe that was why when I noticed a stunning woman standing with the coach just inside his door, I also flipped.
Now the fucking puck bunnies were being allowed near the locker room?
She was a looker. I’d give her that and not typical either.
Lately, it seemed that every girl eager to hunt and hook a hockey player wore either tiny miniskirts or jeans painted on so tight they left nothing to the imagination.
This girl had taken a different approach, her boot-legged, hip-hugging wrangler jeans reminding me of a choice my sister would make.
Casual. Rugged.
But on the mystery girl with blonde hair that under the ugly fluorescent lights appeared kissed by strawberries…
Christ, I was sounding more and more like Finn.
She also had a killer body going for her.
Not that stick-thin crap made famous by some drug beginning with an O, but rounded curves meant for a man with large enough hands to appreciate an hourglass figure.
Fuck me, if my cock wasn’t aching to be placed on full display.
However, there was no doubt why she was here given her animated hand gestures and the grim look on Coach Stryker’s face. He was none too happy.
Neither was I. Since it was likely I was getting a lecture, I wanted to get it over with. To say I was in a bad mood wasn’t close to strong enough.
Maybe I needed to shift and spend time in the forest. Hell, there were scattered highly secured recreational parks across the United States and even a few other countries for shifters only.
Where we could let loose. A little hunting.
Some chasing. Being free of prying eyes and criticism.
However, when you lived in the Pacific Northwest where forests were everywhere, you didn’t need a trumped-up kiddy park.
Something had to give. Every muscle in my body was suddenly tense, my pulse skyrocketing. Sure, I ran hotter than humans, but I was burning up alive.
While neither of the two formally acknowledged me, as soon as I was within a few yards, the unknown girl’s skin took on an effervescent shimmer. I had to roll my eyes on that one. Finn’s romantic bullshit was rubbing off.
Even before I walked closer, I could tell they were talking about me. The coach wasn’t amused, likely since he was being hounded. I knew how much he hated when a fan charged him.
“I’ll take care of this, Coach,” I told him.
Coach Stryker’s right eyebrow lifted. “You will, huh? Then by all means. Go ahead.” He backed into his office, giving me some room.
I’d been on this scene for long enough to tell what the pretty girl was thinking. She leaned her back against the coach’s door, as if not planning on budging. She was shorter than me, although most humans were and she was decidedly human.
Through and through.
When she moved, her soft curls bounced off her voluptuous breasts, drawing my gaze from her tight tee shirt to her slender waist and rounded hips.
I might be tired of dealing with puck bunnies, but that didn’t mean I was a dead man.
When I noticed a beautiful woman, I looked.
And this woman deserved all the accolades out there.
She had a perky nose with a few freckles dotting her cheeks, her lips lush and kissable, and her dazzling cerulean blue eyes held a shimmer that reminded me of a golden halo. They were alight with fire.
A spunky woman. I liked that too.
The way she stared me directly in the eyes held my attention for longer than it should. Eye contact meant someone was interested. Not this guy.
“Hey, babe. I appreciate the support, I really do, but I’m just not interested. But I might be able to swing a couple tickets for this weekend’s game if you’d like.”
When she didn’t answer right away, I couldn’t help myself, placing my palm on the door over her head.
She didn’t react at first, still holding eye contact, but I could sense a hint of amusement. But there was something else hidden beneath her slight, alluring smile, an entirely different sensation than I usually felt around any woman. I found it tough to explain.
If the girl felt anything other than amusement I’d be surprised. She lifted her chin to glance at my hand, a slight sigh for my ears only. “Thanks, but… no, thanks on the game. I’m not a fan. Including of hockey players. Hint. Not all women like a jerk.”
I’d heard just about everything, but her retort was more of a shock to my system than it should be. I’d been turned down before, but from her? It felt like a punch to the gut.
She folded her arms, sticking her nose up at me as if disgusted. And her smile had turned into a smirk.
Making me out to be an asshole in front of the coach wasn’t cool. Backing away, I shrugged as if I didn’t give a damn. “Your loss, kitten. Now, why don’t you run along and rub against another guy’s leg while the coach and I talk important business?”
To her credit, she didn’t get angry. She barely even reacted. Just stared at me. “Hmmm… I’m trying to figure out if there’s anything but bluster inside that big head of yours. I’m surprised it can fit through a doorway.”
She did not just say that shit.
The coach cleared his throat. “Maybe now would be a good time to introduce our new massage therapist. Georgia Wallace, Ford Kendrick, the player I was telling you about. Or maybe I should say warned you about.”
What?