Chapter 5 #2
He pressed his lips together. “I think McManning is a skilled player.” He opened his laptop. “He’s young, though, nineteen.”
We’d picked McManning out of juniors last year as a D-man. “Yeah, give him a year and he’ll be ready to move up.” I tilted my head. Little Hopkins and Carlson weren’t going anywhere, though. “Who would you pair him with?”
“Pair him with?” His brows swept up. With a shrug, he said, “I don’t know, Carlson?”
“Little Hopkins has a three-year, no-trade deal.” He hadn’t thought this through.
“You could pair Little Hopkins with Crosby, since they played well together with the Firebirds, but…” Lucas might see it as a step down, losing a top position to a rookie, especially when he was playing so well with Carlson. “You need to be careful about this.”
His hand clenched into a fist next to his laptop. “Don’t players move around all the time?” He opened his laptop, typed, and then glared at the screen. “What about Nolan Laine?”
“What about him? He’s a solid defender and during the playoffs last year, he ate it up with Crosby beside him.
” I stood and rounded his desk, coming up behind him.
As I peered into his screen, I read the list of names and positions he’d put them into.
My name stood out, reading center next to it.
“You want me to play center? Big Hopkins would shit himself.” I’d centered at Boston, but with Big Hopkins being the powerhouse he was, it would never work.
As a sharp laugh burst from me, I straightened.
“What?” Turning in his chair, he stood. “You don’t want to play center?” He stepped closer, our chests almost touching. “I figured you’d like that idea. Go out with a bang in your last years.”
“Hopkins is where he needs to be.” I eyed him.
Was he trying to be helpful? But why? “And I’ll go out with a bang playing wing.
You watch.” Did he think playing wing wasn’t as good?
“Listen, you need to position a team as a unit. Everyone has talents that lead to a win. And sometimes, you shake it up against a specific opponent, but not always.”
“This shit is so complicated.” With a huff, he shook his head, and his shoulders slumped. “What am I supposed to tell Coach Henderson when he asks? I’m no good at this.” He turned sideways to me.
Grabbing his shoulder, I squeezed the tight muscles.
Damn, he was tense. “I’m sure Coach isn’t expecting you’ll pick a winning combination.
It takes years to understand..” I massaged the muscle leading to his neck.
“You said he was evaluating you, but this isn’t like a final test at college.
There are no right or wrong answers.” It was nice to see him taking this seriously, though.
He relaxed into my hand and let out a soft moan, his eyes closing. “God, that feels good. You have such powerful hands.”
My dick sparked to life, and I stopped the massage, dropping my hand to the side.
I rasped, “Yeah, well…” Clearing my throat, I ambled to the other side of the desk.
How had we gotten so close? “Is there anything else you wanted?” I looked down at my cock, half hard and showing through my sweats.
No way to miss that, damn it. I clasped my hands in front of it and then faced him. “If not, I have, uh—”
His gaze dipped to my groin and returned. Curling the corner of his lips, he said, “No, that’s all. You’re dismissed.”
“Dismissed?” Like what, he was my fucking boss?
“Yeah, okay.” Shaking my head, I grabbed the doorknob.
“Look, whatever you do, have a solid reason for the choices you propose to Coach. He’ll want to understand your process.
” With a smirk, I strolled into the corridor.
I needed to return home for my salmon meal and Margot, who would pester me to stay up past my bedtime with her for a movie.
My boundaries talk had gotten me nowhere.
But once the season started, late nights would end.
We’d landed in Vegas and had taken a chartered bus to our hotel, the Four Seasons at Mandalay Bay.
Tomorrow was our first preseason game, and I was dressing, but it was questionable how much ice time I’d get.
Coach wanted to evaluate the new guys properly and didn’t want the top players injured. It was the same every year.
As I stood in the hotel lobby, full of marble, gold accents and lavish columns, Vegas-style, I held my duffel at my side and watched Julian argue with the hotel manager who’d greeted the team management with our room cards. What the hell was he complaining about now?
As a smirk tugged at my lips, I strolled toward them. “Is there a problem?” All I knew is I wanted out of my suit and into my sweats. I was looking forward to downtime before the team meetings and dinner.
Julian turned his glare on me. “She’s saying there isn’t a room for me.” He glanced toward the coaching staff, all huddled together and talking. “And I can’t book my own room because a conference is in town and the hotel is completely full.”
My brows rose. Fuck, should I do the right thing, or let the staff manage this? “Uh…”
“Mr. Volkov, I can give you a suite if you’ll let Mr. Mercer room with you.” The woman gave me a placating smile.
Julian’s eyes grew wide. “No, I want my own room. Give me the suite.”
She held up the card keys and said, “Then Mr. Volkov will need to—”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll share the suite.” I grabbed the cards from her and handed one to Julian. “Don’t be an ass.” I might regret this later.
“An ass?” He snatched the card from me and stuffed it into the breast pocket of his suit coat. “Who’s responsible for this mess?”
“There’s an entire team that plans our travel arrangements. It was a simple mistake. Now let’s make the best of it.” I gave the woman a warm grin and stepped toward the elevators.
“Is there a problem here?” Coach Henderson walked up to us.
“No, not anymore. It’s resolved.” I didn’t need to worry Coach about Julian’s drama. He’d have enough on his mind. I glanced at Julian, his cheeks burning red.
“They lost my hotel reservation. Who should I contact to ensure this never happens again?” He clenched his jaw with a huff.
“Probably Shelby in travel. But you got it sorted out?” Coach glanced at Julian and then focused on me.
“Yeah, it’s all worked out. He’s staying with me.” Why the hell was Julian so upset about it? “Come on, Mercer.” Grabbing his elbow, I hauled him toward the elevator. I was done with this shit.
As we waited for it to arrive, he ground his molars.
“You know, when you travel as much as we do, shit happens. Learn how to roll with it.” When the doors slid open, we stepped inside, and I pushed the number for our floor. We were on a higher level, so we should have amazing views. Nighttime Vegas offered spectacular lights.
“But…how could they forget about me?” He leaned against the beige-painted wood on the elevator’s side. “I’ll bet they did this on purpose.”
“Why? Does someone in the office have it in for you?” I let out a soft snort. It wouldn’t surprise me.
“No, I don’t know.” He snuck a peek at me. “Thank you for letting me room with you.”
“You’re welcome.” When the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, I stepped into the hallway. “We’ve stayed at this hotel a lot. Most teams do.” The suites were at the ends.
He followed me down the hallway and past the other players entering rooms.
When I stopped at our door, I held my keycard to the lock, and it clicked. “I hope there are two beds.” Shit, I hadn’t thought of that. But she wouldn’t have given me a room with one, right? As my heart hitched, I opened the door.
“If there’s only one bed, you can sleep on the couch.” He sniggered as he walked inside behind me.
“Me? I’m playing tomorrow. I need to be well-rested. You get the—” I halted in my tracks. There was only one, king sized bed. “Fuck.” The rest of the room held a sitting area and a dinette, in grey hues and rich wood.
He bumped into me, stumbled, and then grabbed my arm. “What?” He peered around me. “Oh, hell no.” He threw his bag onto the carpeted floor. “I am not sleeping on that fucking couch.” He stepped around me, throwing his arm out. “It doesn’t look comfortable at all.”
“We can order a rollaway bed.” I glanced at the expanse of the king bed, resting against the wall with crisp white sheets and a tufted grey headboard. We’d both fit…but fuck no. I’d never sleep. Judging by my reaction to him every time we got close, my dick would never stand down.
Hanging his head, he planted his hands on his hips and chuckled. “What the fuck? Is the universe trying to tell me something?”
I tossed my duffel onto the luggage rack, next to the closet. “What do you think the universe is saying?” That we should fucking sleep together and get it over with? Tonight would be nearly impossible. But I’d expected the woman would have given us a suite with two beds.
He turned on his heels, a wicked grin playing on his lips. “The universe is fucking with me, obviously. It knows I haven’t been with a man in almost three weeks, so now it’s giving me a hot hockey player and one bed. What do you think?” His eyes popped open. “Fuck, I mean…”
“Um, thanks?” Hot hockey player? He thought I was hot? I sat on the edge of the bed and slipped my sneakers off. Now we definitely needed a way out of this. “I’ll bet that couch folds out into a bed. Why don’t you check it?”
He lifted the cushions on the couch and dropped them. “It does. But they always have rails that dig into your back all night.” He fell onto the couch. “Guess I’ll have to sleep with you.”
“We can get a rollaway bed.” After slipping my socks off, I wiggled my toes. Removing my shoes after traveling always felt so good.
“They’re not wide enough. I’ll fall out.” He peered at me, his grin widening. “I roll around a lot when I sleep.”