Chapter 18
Cole
“Maddox, you're gonna eat ice tonight,” a Boston fan screams from the stands.
I grin. More insults follow. Insults that would make a sailor blush. The rivalry between our teams always brings out the best and worst in both sides, and tonight's no different as I glide across the ice during warm-ups.
For the tenth time, I swing my gaze to the family section, searching for one specific face. My heart gallops in my chest when I see Harper. She’s seated in the second row, wearing a navy blue sweater that brings out her eyes.
She's surrounded by other players' wives and girlfriends, but she stands out like a beacon. When our eyes meet across the ice, she gives me a subtle smile that sends warmth shooting through my chest.
“Cap, you're staring,” Ethan says as he glides up beside me during warm-ups. “Who's caught your attention?”
“Nobody,” I lie, but I can't keep the grin off my face.
“Bullshit. You look like a lovesick teenager.” He follows my gaze toward the family section. “Ah, the blonde in red? Nice choice.”
Wrong. I shoot him a warning look, but before I can respond, the horn sounds for the end of warm-ups.
Back in the locker room, Coach Mercer delivers his usual pre-game speech about playing with heart and determination. Then it’s game time.
The game is brutal from the first puck drop. The Commanders come out swinging. During a break in play, Brett sidles up to me at the face-off circle, a cocky grin on his face.
“Hope you're ready to get schooled, Maddox,” he says, tapping his stick against mine. “I've been saving up some moves just for you.”
“In your dreams, Hayes,” I shoot back. “Last time we played, you spent more time on your ass than on your skates.”
“We'll see about that.” He skates backward toward his position, still grinning. “Tell me, how's that fancy penthouse treating you? Still eating cereal for dinner like a bachelor?”
If only he knew his sister had been cooking for me most nights. “Wouldn't you like to know.”
By the end of the first period, we're tied 1-1, and both teams have taken enough penalties to staff a small prison.
During the first intermission, I catch sight of Harper again. She's leaning forward, completely absorbed in the action, and the intensity on her face makes me want to play even harder.
The second period is where we start to pull away. Logan makes three impossible saves that have the crowd on their feet, and Alex scores a beautiful goal on the power play. By the time the horn sounds, we're up 3-1.
In the third period, the Commanders get desperate. They're throwing everything at us, but our defense holds strong. Ethan delivers a bone-crushing check that echoes through the arena, and the Boston crowd falls silent.
With two minutes left, I get my chance. A perfect pass from Ryan finds me alone in front of the net, and I bury it top shelf. The goal seals our victory, and my teammates mob me in celebration.
Final score: Renegades 4, Commanders 1.
As we skate off the ice, my gaze finds Harper in the Commanders' family box. She's the only one standing and cheering in a sea of disappointed Boston fans, completely forgetting she's supposed to be rooting for the other team.
The sight makes me grin like an idiot. She's so caught up in celebrating our win that she's blown her cover. I just hope Brett doesn't look up and see his sister cheering for the enemy.
An hour later, I'm showered and dressed, heading to the rooftop bar we've rented out for the night. The team always goes all out after beating Boston, and tonight is no exception.
The entire top floor of this downtown hotel is ours, complete with an open bar and a view of the city skyline.
The party is already in full swing when I arrive. Music pumps through speakers, drinks flow freely, and the guys are riding high on our victory. Wives and girlfriends mingle with the team, creating a celebration that feels more like a family reunion than a typical hockey party.
I spot Harper near the bar, talking with Olivia, Theo's wife. She's changed into a black dress that skims her figure beautifully, and I have to force myself not to stare.
“Cap,” Jake calls out from across the room. “Get over here, you have to see this.”
I make my way over to where half the team is gathered around someone's phone, all of them laughing hysterically.
“What's so funny?” I ask.
“Novak's gone viral,” Ryan says, barely able to speak through his laughter. “Show him, Blake.”
Blake holds up his phone, and I see Liam's Instagram Live from two nights ago. He's in his kitchen at two AM, clearly three sheets to the wind, trying to make what he claims is the world's best grilled cheese sandwich.
“The key,” drunk Nova says to his phone, “is to butter the bread on both sides. Trust me, I'm a professional.”
He then proceeds to drop the sandwich on the floor, pick it up, and declare it seasoned with authentic kitchen floor spices.
The video has over two million views and thousands of comments calling him everything from hockey's Gordon Ramsay to the drunken chef we never knew we needed.
I'm laughing so hard my sides hurt when I glance around the room and freeze. The man himself is standing way too close to Harper, leaning in to say something that's making her laugh.
His hand is resting on her lower back, and the intimacy of the gesture makes my blood boil.
I don't even think. I'm crossing the room before I realize I've moved.
I step right into their space, my body language leaving no room for doubt. I drape my arm around Harper’s shoulders, pulling her firmly into my side. She looks up, surprised, but then relaxes against me.
Novak’s eyes flick from her to me, a smirk spreading across his face. “Well, hey, Captain. You staking a claim here?”
The words are a challenge, wrapped in a joke. I meet his gaze dead-on, no humor in my own. “Yes.”
The smirk on his face falters, replaced by a flicker of genuine surprise, then something like respect. He raises his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Alright. Fair enough. Message received.”
He looks at Harper and gives her a friendly smile. “See you around, Harper.” As he turns to saunter away, he throws a final tease over his shoulder. “Damn, Cap. Guess you’re not a complete robot after all.”
He saunters away, leaving Harper and me alone.
“Cole,” Harper says, her voice low and warning. “People are going to see.”
“I don't care anymore.” The words come out rough. “I need to see you. Privately.”
Her breath catches, but her eyes are full of the same hunger that I'm feeling. “I should leave soon. My flight is in three hours.”
“Harper. Please.” I take her hand and pull her towards the exit. I need some time alone with my girl.
The stairwell is blessedly empty. We're halfway down when I spot a door with supplies written on it. I pull Harper inside and press her against the closed door.
“Someone could see us,” she whispers, but her hands are already reaching for my belt.
“I don't care,” I growl, capturing her mouth in a kiss that's desperate and hungry.
The danger of discovery only makes it hotter. My hands slide up her thighs, pushing her dress higher as she works at my zipper. We're frantic, desperate, like teenagers who've snuck away from a school dance.
“I've been thinking about this all night,” I murmur against her neck, my voice rough with need. “Watching you in that family section, knowing you were there for me.”
“Cole,” she gasps as I lift her, pressing her back against the door. Her legs wrap around my waist. I shove my pants down just enough, my cock hard and straining. My fingers find the edge of her panties and tear them aside.
“Fuck, you’re always so ready for me,” I groan, guiding myself to her.
I thrust up into her in one sharp, deep motion. She cries out, a muffled sound she buries in my shoulder, her whole body clenching around me. I freeze for a second, both of us listening, our ragged breaths the only sound. When no one comes barging in, a reckless energy takes over.
“That’s it,” I rasp, setting a brutal rhythm, fucking her hard against the wall. “You’re mine, Harper, just like this sweet, tight pussy is all fucking mine.”
“Yes,” she whimpers, her nails digging into my back through my shirt.
“No one looks at you like that but me.” The words are torn from me, possessive and raw. I drive into her harder, each thrust punctuating my claim. “You understand me, Harper?”
“Yes. Oh God, yes,” she breathes in my ear, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Faster, Cole.”
I comply, driving into her with a punishing rhythm. The sound of our ragged breathing fills the small space, along with the distant music from the party above.
“You're mine,” I grit out again. “Tell me you're mine, Harper.”
“I'm yours,” she whispers, her inner muscles clenching around me. “Only yours.”
I can feel her starting to unravel, her inner muscles fluttering around my cock. I slam my hand over her mouth to stifle her cries, my own release coiling tight.
Moments later, Harper shatters around me, a silent scream against my palm, her body shaking violently. My control snaps, and I bury myself inside her one more time, with a guttural moan as I spill into her.
For a long moment, we stay like that, pressed together in the dark, panting, our hearts hammering against each other’s chests. Slowly, I lower her legs, my arms trembling with the aftershock.
Harper lets out a breathless laugh. “I've never had sex in a storage closet before.”
I laugh too. “First time for everything.”
“God, we're insane,” she says, still laughing as she smooths down her dress. “What if someone had walked in?”
“They would have gotten quite the show,” I say, grinning as I tuck my shirt back in and fix my belt.
Harper shakes her head, trying to finger-comb her hair back into place. “You're terrible. Absolutely terrible.”
“You love it,” I say, reaching over to help her fix a strand that's sticking up.
“Unfortunately, I do.” She stands on her tiptoes to straighten my collar. “There. Now we look less like we just had a quickie in a supply closet.”
“Speak for yourself.” I smirk at the flush in her cheeks and her kiss-swollen lips. “You look thoroughly fucked.”
She swats my arm playfully. “I really do have to go catch that flight.”
“I know.” I cup her face in my hands, pressing one more kiss to her lips. “Text me when you land.”
“I will. Enjoy the rest of the party.”
“The party won't matter once you leave.”
She laughs, the sound light and beautiful. “Flatterer.”
I want the whole world to know that this woman is mine. Tomorrow, after the charity auction, I'm telling Brett everything.
It's time to stop keeping her secret.