Chapter 3
THREE
ALEX (ALEXEY)
I’d been excited to hit the ice with the team and continue our winning dynamic from last season, and our first morning skate hadn’t let me down. We’d gelled as if the offseason hadn’t happened, except that everyone was injury-free and rested.
After cool-down routines and showering, I stood at my stall, a towel wrapped around my waist, and ready to dress for our afternoon meetings.
“Everyone, can I have your attention?” Coach Henderson strolled into the locker room with another man following.
I dropped my towel and slipped my briefs up my legs.
As my gaze landed on the other man, dressed in a fashionable grey suit with his hair slicked back, my breath snagged.
Holy fuck. What was Julian from Ocean Club doing here?
I covered my junk with my clasped hands. Had he just seen my naked ass? Fuck.
All the guys, in various states of dress, focused on Coach and Julian.
As Julian’s gaze lingered on me, his cheeks pinked and he coughed into his fist.
Yep, he’d seen my ass. I hoped he’d enjoyed the fucking show. The corner of my lips raised. “Go ahead, Coach. Looks like you’ve got our attention. I assume you’re here to introduce this fine young man you have with you.” I gave Julian my most charming smile.
Hopkins stepped toward me and poked my arm. Holding his hand over his lips, he whispered, “Hey, that’s the douche—”
“I know,” I said out of the corner of my mouth. This could be interesting.
“Yes, this fine young man is Julian Mercer. He’ll be my hockey operations assistant this season, and he’s here to learn from all of us how a proper Stanley Cup-winning team functions. I’ll be mentoring him, along with the other staff members, and I expect you to welcome him into our family.”
“Sure, Coach, but with the last name of Mercer, does it mean he’s Grant’s son?” Hopkins stepped away from me, planting his hand on his hips, eyeing Julian.
“He is. He’s also a Harvard graduate with an MBA and a strong work ethic.” Coach folded his arms across his chest.
Strong work ethic? Letting out a soft scoff, I shook my head.
I couldn’t help myself. I could only hold back so much.
Julian was a playboy and a partier. He’d probably paid other students to do his assignments for him at Harvard.
My attention drew to Julian, and he smirked at me.
The little fucker. Only two days ago he hadn’t even recognized his star offensive line. He probably knew nothing about hockey.
“You have a problem, Volkov?” Coach’s gaze grew hard as he stepped toward me. “As the team captain, I expect you to work closely with him as well.”
“Yes, Coach. Not a problem.” Pressing my lips together, I glanced at Julian, and his smirk widened.
Heat flickered through my chest. I’d like to rub that smirk off his face and shove it up his ass.
Not only had he not recognized us, but he’d also told me he could find better at the fucking Velvet Spur. I’d show him how wrong he was. Wait…
“Julian, would you like to address the team?” Coach gave him a warm grin.
“Yes, I would. Thank you, Coach Henderson.” He flicked his gaze to me and then scanned the room, clasping his hands in front of him.
“I’m new to hockey, even though my father’s owned the team for many years.
I’m eager to learn from you all, and I hope to bring a fresh perspective on the operations here.
Coming off a Stanley Cup win, you’ll be the team to watch this season.
I’d like to capitalize on that and bring in new fans.
I want them to be proud of our team and our players, proud to wear our colors, not just in the rink, but out on the streets in their everyday lives.
I want every game to sell out, the crowd roaring for you and for you all to experience the best season of your lives. ”
“Damn, I can get behind that.” Ace clapped his hands. “Let’s hear it for the new guy.”
With a grumble, I clapped my hands. Ace hadn’t seen Julian at Ocean Club. Hell, should I tell him? Spreading rumors wasn’t what a captain should do. I glanced at Hopkins. He’d certainly tell Ace. Fuck, I’d have to ensure this didn’t turn into a shit show. But how, when I had zero respect for him?
“Get dressed, and we’ll see you in the main conference room.” Coach turned on his heels and strolled from the room with Julian following.
“Fuck.” I scowled and dressed in my team sweats. What the hell would I do?
“Volkov, do you think he’ll shape up? He’s worse than I was before I came here. Except at least I was the best damn center in the NCAA.” Hopkins glanced toward Jarvis.
“Nobody can be that bad.” With a chuckle, Jarvis planted a kiss on Hopkin’s cheek.
“Save it for the bedroom, guys,” Ace called out.
“So, what, are you saying we should blindly follow whatever shit this douchebag comes up with?” Hopkins faced his husband. “A few days ago, he didn’t even know we were on the team. Who the fuck’s father owns a hockey franchise and doesn’t even know the star players?”
“We should give him a chance. He’s been at Harvard studying.” Jett pursed his lips. “I understand that pressure—the need to fulfill your father’s expectations.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t like him.” Hopkins gave him a quick glare.
“What’s going on here?” Ace lumbered toward us. “Tell me.”
Fuck, the shit show was starting. Holding my palms up, I said, “Guys, let’s settle down and follow Coach’s orders. Bring Julian into the fold and teach him what he needs to know.” I couldn’t believe what came out of my mouth.
“What. Happened.” Ace’s glare turned on me. “Tell me.”
I tipped my head for a beat and then focused on Ace. “We saw Julian and his friend at Ocean Club on Saturday. He was out partying and didn’t recognize us.” And…he propositioned me in the bathroom.
“Oh…So, he knows absolutely nothing about hockey.” Ace scoffed.
“What’s the skinny over here?” Archer Carlson stepped into our circle, followed by Lucas Hopkins.
Here we go…I’d be on repeat the rest of the day.
The team meeting ended, and as Coach closed his laptop, he said, “Volkov, I’d like you to stick around and meet with Julian.” His gaze found mine.
“Yes, of course.” Alone? Great. I stood and watched the other guys disperse.
Julian stood from his chair in front of the conference room and arched a brow. “Will you be meeting with us too, Coach Henderson?”
“No, I’ve got some things I need to take care of.
” Coach patted Julian’s shoulder. “Volkov will take good care of you.” Coach lifted his laptop from the table, and as he passed me to leave, he said, “He’s pretty green, but he picks things up quickly.
I think he could use some insights from a player’s perspective. ”
“Sure thing, Coach.” Fucking hell. I walked past the rows of tables and chairs to where Julian stood. “Well? Take a seat and let’s chat.”
Pushing his lips together, he dropped into his chair. “I suppose I should say something about what happened on Saturday.”
I glanced at the open doorway. “How about I shut the door first? The rumor mill has already started about you, and it’s not great.” With a scoff, I strode to the door, shut it, and returned to sit next to Julian.
“What rumors? Who’s talking?” He furrowed his brows. “You? What the hell did you say about me?”
“I didn’t say shit.” My chest filled with heat.
“And who doesn’t matter. The problem is, you didn’t recognize us at Ocean Club.
You, the guy who’d be working with the team in two days.
Do you know anything about hockey? Anything at all?
” I couldn’t help myself, but he had to understand the players would never respect him this way.
His gaze turned hard, and he straightened his spine. “I know things. I…I studied my ass off yesterday.”
“Oh, yesterday?” My brows flicked upward. “How long have you known you were coming here?” If his father was the owner, he must have known for a while now.
Shifting in his chair, he wrung his hands on the table. “Since probably last year. My father let me know he’d place me with the hockey team before my last year at Harvard.”
Leaning in, I said, “You’ve known for a year? Did you watch our games last season? The Stanley Cup? Anything?” Holy fuck, was this guy unprepared. There was no way he’d watched our games and not known me, Mason, and Jett.
“N-no.” He flicked his glare at me. “I didn’t need to know that shit right then. I had other things to worry about, like—”
“Where to get your next hookup and what gay bar to go to?” With a scowl, I shook my head.
“You know, there are guys who would have done the work and come prepared for this position. You…” I inhaled deeply as my chest clenched.
I should tone this down, but he needed to hear it.
“You’re only here because your father owns the team. You did nothing to deserve this.”
“Fuck you, Volkov.” As his gaze burned, he jumped from his chair. “I can see you’ll be useless to me.”
“Sit your ass down, Mercer.” I slapped the table. I didn’t care who the hell his daddy was. “And don’t go crying to your father about the team captain, or you’ll have even bigger problems.”
He plopped into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t tell my father about this. I’m not like that.”
“Good, because for this to work, we need to speak frankly with each other.” My stomach fluttered.
Damn, I liked it when he listened to me.
He had a defiant streak, and taming it was delicious.
I ran my gaze across him, his long, dark bangs slicked back, the greenish tint of his eyes and the brown ring surrounding his pupils.
He had hazel eyes…Then his mouth, plump lips but not overly so. How many men had tasted him?
“Well, I’m waiting for your amazing insights.” His lips curved on one side. “Or are you just going to sit there and eye-fuck me?”
My jaw fell. I had to focus here. “I’m not eye-fucking you. Why the hell would I do that?”