Power Play (Nashville Assassins: Next Generation Book 2) Read online

  I scrunch up my face. “I do not!”

  Aiden giggles like a schoolgirl. “Ha! Or he’s intimidated by her.”

  Wes nods, and I’m flabbergasted. “Fuck you both.”

  “Yup. He’s attracted to her and intimidated by her. He wants her to blow him instead of that whistle,” he teases and then shakes his head. “But for real, can someone take that thing away?”

  “You guys have lost your fucking minds.”

  Aiden laughs. “We’re just teasing you,” he says as he puts on his shirt. “But for real, she’s a good girl. You’ll see. I believe in what Shelli is doing here. She’s so smart. And gorgeous. And hot—”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, go suck her ass somewhere else,” I groan, and Wes chortles beside me as Willy shakes his head.

  “Leave him be. He’s in love,” Willy sings, and I roll my eyes.

  I point to them as I look at Wes. “How can you hang with these two? I feel we need to vote them out of the group.”

  The three of them laugh. “Then I’d be stuck with you, and you are an asshole most days.”

  “I am not.”

  “You are,” they all say in agreement. Wes shrugs.

  “But it’s part of the reason we like you,” Aiden says, grabbing his bag. “And you’re loyal as hell.”

  Willy nods. “True story.”

  Blah, makes me sick. Assholes. The pair of them walks off toward their perfect relationships and happy lives, leaving me to dwell on my confusing thoughts of Posey Adler.

  I look at Wes to find he is grinning at me. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he says with that shit-eating grin that means way more than “nothing.”

  I glare before getting up to put on my sweats. I don’t have time for this shit and I need a nap, but apparently a nap isn’t going to happen. Nope, not when my mind is going at speeds unknown, trying to figure out if I’m intimidated by Posey, attracted to her, or fuck…both.

  I hate the dudes I call friends.

  I dislike playing the Devils. Massively.

  The reason being, I was drafted to them, played for two years before I asked to go free agent to be traded. That was right around the time Julia and I reconnected, and we started dating. When the Assassins came sniffing, I gave them full access to my ass. Anything to get me out of that organization. Because of this, they hate me. I swear the coach has it out for me and sends his goons after me like I’m a sweet piece of chocolate and they’re all Willy Wonka. It’s really a pain in the ass, honestly.

  I go to send the puck to Aiden when a goon slams his 270-pound body into mine. I make the pass, but it hurts to do so. I’m not slim—my mom may, in fact, call me husky—but this dude is made to mow people down, and he mows me down just fine. As I slide across the ice, I look down to make sure Aiden is off. He is, so I pop back up to follow suit. I cross the blue line, going straight for the net. No one is screening, and since I already have one bruise coming in, might as well add a few more.

  I set up in front of the goalie as I fight my man for coverage while my team moves the puck around. We’re down by one and need the equalizer. I didn’t sleep well, so I’m cranky and saying whatever is going to piss this dude off. We need a power play, we need that chance to tie it, and if I can get this dude to retaliate, I’ll be good to go.

  Since I slept with his sister many moons ago, it shouldn’t be hard.

  “How’s Beth?” I ask as our hips slam into each other. “Is she still as wild as I remember?”

  “Fuck you, Hoenes!” Mattis yells, and when the goalie, Ellizet, clips my ankle, I grin.

  Loud enough for Ellizet to hear me and maybe throw off his focus, I ask him, “And how’s your mom? Is she still making those muffins?”

  I may also have slept with Ellizet’s mom. But in my defense, I was young, horny, and she made these really bomb-ass banana muffins. She, too, was lonely and newly divorced. Now that I think of it, I don’t know that it was my leaving the team that made them hate me, but rather that I slept with all the females who meant something to them. That’s all in the past, though. I’m an adult now.

  Or something of that nature.

  “I’m just asking. You know, I’m newly single. May have to call Beth or even Ellizet’s mom.”

  “I’ll fucking kill you,” Mattis says, slamming his shoulder into mine.

  “It wouldn’t be serious, just some mindless fucking,” I tease, and like I wanted, the retaliation comes. I just wish it hadn’t been the shaft of his stick in my mouth. My head is forced back, and I cover my mouth with my glove as I taste the blood. Fantastic. I probably deserved that. Beth is a sweet girl, treated me real good, and I would be lucky for her to accept my call. But I’m not telling Mattis that. When the whistle blows, I thank the awesome hockey gods and lean into my trainer’s towel to clean up the blood.

  “Need stitches?” Ryan Justice asks, and I tilt back for him to see the damage. I feel the cut at the base of my gums, and it would really suck to get stitches there. I’ve had them. They hurt worse than the damn cut itself. Luckily, though, he says, “Ah, no. It’s a little laceration. You’re good. Shake it off.”

  I love this dude. Being an ex-hockey player himself, he’s got our mind-set. I head to the bench with him and take a mouthful of the salt water he hands me, and then I spit it out on the ice. When the red flow stops, I know I’m good. Just in time, too, because we’re on the power play.

  Time to put to work what we spent all of practice working on.

  A play by the person who kept me awake all day.

  Not that I’m thinking of her right now. I haven’t even seen her. I assumed she’d be here. I knew she wouldn’t be on the bench with the other coaches since she’s just an assistant coach, but I thought I’d see her at least. Not that I wanted to. I’m just saying I thought I would.

  Coach Titov leans over the boards, screaming our play as we head to the face-off circle.

  Wes looks me over. “You good?”

  “Fine.”

  He scoffs. “Maybe next time, don’t talk about sleeping with a dude’s sister?”

  I whip my stick to the jumbotron. “Hello, double minor penalty. If we can’t score, we need Jesus.”

  “We all need Jesus,” Willy says as he sets up, and my mom would agree with him.

  I would too, but right now, I need to score.

  Fuck, anyone can score and I’d be happy.

  Once the puck is dropped, Aiden loses the damn face-off, and the puck goes sailing down to our end. I watch as Willy chases after it, and we get out of their zone to reset. As he comes down the ice, he’s yelling the play, and then he drops it back to Reeves. Reeves passes it up to Aiden, who is ready to enter, and when he does, Wes and I join him. We set up, passing the puck between the five of us. I draw in a forward, and when he lays out to block my shot, I lift it up over him and off to Wes.

  Wes takes the puck and dekes the goalie one way before pushing the puck with one hand on his stick into the goal. When the light comes on, I throw my hands up.

  That was a pass with a fucking purpose, as Posey Adler would say.

  We all hug up, and the feeling of scoring on this damn power play is unreal. The whole crowd is screaming at the top of their lungs. We’ve struggled—they know and have been talking mad shit—but we gave them what they wanted. A power play goal. We skate toward the bench as our fight song plays before trading out with the second special team since we are still on the power play. I lean on the bench, sucking in air as Titov comes over and slaps me hard on the back.

  “Smart play, Hoenes. Great fucking pass.”

  I nod and look up at him. “You would even say, one with purpose?”

  He gives me a pointed look. “Yes, smartass.”

  I grin as I look back on the ice where my boys are fighting just as hard as we were. Time is winding down, but the boys are still pushing. The pressure is there, and we are getting so many chances. But apparently today, Ellizet has decided to be a good goalie. He never did that wh
en I was with Jersey. When our line gets called out again, it’s just as Willy and Reeves are carrying the puck in. I wait at the line, and when the pass comes to me, I redirect it to Aiden, who, like the fucking boss he is, dekes around one player, totally spins around another one, brings the puck between his legs, and shoots it up and over Ellizet’s shoulder.

  Talk about a gorgeous highlight-reel shot. Best play of the year? You’re damn right!

  I basically lift the dude off the ice in my arms as we run into the boards from the guys all hugging. We’ve been fighting for this, and hell if we don’t need it for morale. We just wanted one, but we got two. As we skate toward our bench, the place is rocking. The team is pumped, the crowd is pumped, and I’m pretty sure Coach is, but he doesn’t ever change his face. He just chews his gum either really fast when he’s upset, or calmly when he’s happy. Right now, it’s calm. So, I assume we’re good.

  When the buzzer sounds for the end of the period, we head off the bench on cloud nine. We could lose this game, and I would still feel like a winner. That fucking power play has been our mountain to conquer. We still have work to do, but we’re getting there. When we get into the locker room, I sit down and undress my top half to cool down. I put a towel over my shoulders to soak up my sweat as I down a whole bottle of water. Wes and his baby bladder rush to the bathroom. I swear the dude pisses at least nine times a game. It’s insane. I don’t pee but maybe once, and that’s only if I really have to. Right now, I’m good, and as the nice cold air hits my burning body, I close my eyes and let out a long sigh. Coach is proud, telling us how we impressed him that period and how he wants more. I can do that. I’m a fucking beast.

  But then I hear her voice.

  My eyes fly open, and there she is, standing right outside of the Assassins emblem wearing some fuck-me-stupid high boots that go to her thighs. Her black skirt hits right above them, showing just enough skin to make it real hard to cool off. The purple blouse she’s wearing is loose and billowy, and she’s got a black scarf at her neck. There is only that little bit of skin showing at her thigh, and fuck, she might as well be naked with how my pistons are revving up. Her hair is down, curled, the deepest color auburn I have ever seen. She wears dramatic makeup, her lashes long, and her lips a candy-apple red. She stands there with such purpose. Owning the room. The fact that she can do that in skates or in heels is quite terrifying, to be honest. No telling how she is in the bedroom.

  Aw hell, I’m so fucking hard, and the cup I wear is entirely too small.

  “Like Coach said, I’m proud. You took what I gave you, and y’all executed. Exactly what I wanted. What a goal, Brooks. And Wes, wonderful shot. Great four minutes, boys. Way to play.”

  Her eyes meet mine, linger, but divert quickly before she turns on those naughty red-bottomed shoes and heads out of the room.

  I realize two things in that moment.

  One, where is my recognition for my pass with purpose?

  And two, I am fully and utterly attracted to my very intimidating female coach.

  Well, this is a turn of events I was not mentally or physically prepared for.

  Chapter Six

  Boon

  Like we do after every game, we head over to Aiden’s mom’s restaurant.

  Mrs. Brooks stays open late, and we get free food. For the rookies, this is the only good meal they get. Hell, who am I kidding? It’s the only good meal I get unless I pay for it somewhere else. One thing is for sure, I don’t turn down free food, especially penne with white sauce and sherry reduction, but I do tip the waitress real well. I know what it’s like to work through college and even high school. When I wasn’t on the ice, I was working, helping my mom. Now, though, she doesn’t worry about a damn thing. I pay for everything and let her enjoy being a single woman in her fifties. She still works, but not even a fraction of how much she did when I was growing up, and only now because she wants to.

  When Aiden holds up his froufrou glass of wine, I reach for my beer as he says, “Great game, boys. Let’s keep it going.”

  We all cheers in the middle of the table before taking swigs of our respective drinks. Aiden is converting some of the guys to wine, but not me. I want to hold my drink glass and know I can’t break it. Kinda like how I want my women. I want a woman I can hold in my hands and know I don’t hurt her. I was too strong for Julia. I always had to be so careful. I bet that dumbass Phil is all gentle and soft-handed. He doesn’t have man hands like I do. Why am I thinking of her? We just won a game after not being able to score on the power play in months. Fuck her, fuck Phil—I’m beyond happy without her.

  That game. Man. By the end of it, we were up by three. They were full-strength goals, but we were so hype and our confidence was so insane that our boys were scoring like no other. I even got one, a sweet five-holer that really pissed off the goalie. Probably as much as it had when he found me in bed with his mom. Ah, to be young and stupid.

  I sorta miss those days; I shouldn’t have settled down with Julia. Now I’m too old to live the rookie sort of life. Aiden is only a year younger than me, and he’s getting married. Willy is five seconds from it, and Wes, well…he is Wes. I should probably try to find someone to get serious with.

  Unfortunately, my mind wanders to a certain someone who had a sexy little strip of thigh showing tonight.

  “So, what was up with Adler?”

  The boys all look over at me, and I’m surprised I actually asked that.

  Willy’s brow goes up as he asks, “Coach Adler? What are you talking about?”

  “Yeah,” I say around my beer. “I had one hell of a pass that was full of purpose, and she only nodded to Aiden and Wes.”

  Wes grins. “Aww, is Boonsie jealous?”

  I point my beer at him. “Shut it before you walk home.”

  He scoffs. “I’m not going home tonight. I’ve got a date.”

  Aiden laughs. “Who cares? It’s a team effort, no matter what. She was just giving us a nod. We couldn’t have done it without you and we all know that, so why are you hung up on that?”

  I give him a dry look. “I was just asking, seeing what you guys thought. I thought it was bullshit. Hello, can’t score without a pass.”

  Aiden raises his hand. “I can. And I do. A lot. On and off the ice.”

  Wes snorts while Willy nods, giving him a high five like they’re two frat boys. Losers. “As do I—”

  I’m interrupted by Wes laughing very violently. He smacks the table, throws his head back, and guffaws from his soul. This makes everyone else laugh—except me. When he looks at me with mischief in his eyes, I glare. “You haven’t gotten any in months. Stop lying.”

  “You don’t know my life!” I yell at him, and that only makes him laugh harder. “I’m just saying. Give credit where it is due. We wouldn’t have gotten that first goal if it weren’t for me.”

  Wes gives me a dry look. “Yes, Boon, we all cannot survive without you. Please don’t ever leave us. We need you. You’re the best player on our team. We need you to teach us your ways.”

  “I hate you,” I say over the laughter of my teammates, and I guess they’re my friends. Though, they’re tiptoeing the line right now. “I just thought it was in bad taste. We’re all getting to know one another. She could have given me a nod.”

  Aiden rolls his eyes. “You just want her to stroke your ego.”

  “Yeah, ’cause you like her,” Wes sings. “You want to kiss her, you want to touch her booty—”

  “But don’t. Shea Adler has tried to kill men for less,” Aiden warns, and I look at him wide-eyed.

  “What the hell? Don’t bring him into this!” I yell, and it’s for one simple reason. Shea Adler. I don’t think I need to explain myself on that one. The dude is terrifying. Just like Posey. “None of this matters. I don’t like her. Nor do I want to kiss her. I just want her to tell me I did good.”

  I’m a fantastic liar.

  Or so I thought.

  “Because you like her. You want h
er to stroke you,” Wes sings. He even adds a little body roll and chest rubbing.

  He’s an idiot.

  Aiden and Willy are laughing at the annoyance on my face, and I want to kick all their asses. But my mom says I can’t do that anymore. Apparently it’s a part of that adult gig. Not sure I’m made for it. Wes stops suddenly, and I glance over at him with my fork to my lips to hear him call out, “Hey, Coach. Wanna eat with us?”

  I look up just as Posey stops at our table. A small smile pulls at her lips as she moves her hair off her shoulders. She’s still dressed from the game…and looking mighty delicious in this soft lighting. She looks down at our nearly empty plates and then shakes her head. “Y’all are almost done, and it’s late. You need to go home and go to bed.”

  “You’re out,” Aiden teases, leaning back in his chair. “You can’t make us go home.”

  She grins. “I had meetings after the game to talk about y’all. I deserve carbs and wine.”

  Aiden nods. “Still no carbs at home?”

  No carbs? Why can’t she have carbs?

  She scoffs, her hair bouncing along her shoulders as she shakes her head. “No, and I’m still convinced that’s why Shelli moved out.”

  She leans on the table, and I notice her nails aren’t done. I don’t think she likes being done up. She’d rather be in sweats. I’d rather see her naked.

  “For sure ain’t for your stanky ass.” The way she says stanky is really sexy. It’s all drawn out, and she’s absolutely adorable. A fit of laughter moves through us, and how she smiles when she finds something funny is gorgeous. Her whole face lights up. Her eyes sparkle, and her jaw is taut from how hard she is smiling. Fuck, she’s lovely. “Seriously, though, don’t stay out late. We have morning skate.”

  Willy salutes her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Proud of y’all. Real good goals on the power play, Brooks and Mac.”

  I’m really not trying to be dramatic or even assume the worst, but I have a feeling this chick doesn’t like me. I scored tonight, yet she makes sure not to mention anything about me. What in the hell? I’m a fucking pleasure to be around. I’m talented, and I’m damn good-looking. I’ve been told I have the jaw of a Greek god. No, you can’t see it right now because of my stubble, but I’m still fun to look at. As she turns, she slides her eyes along me, and I feel as if she scorches my body. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m getting really annoyed.