Ruthless Player: A College Hockey Romance (Westfall U Series)

by R. C. Stephens

  Wolfe watches me like he has something serious to say. “Spit out whatever has you in a twist. Fuck. The sun hasn’t even come up.”

  Wolfe stays silent.

  “Well, what the fuck? You worried about moving to another state or something?” I ask.

  Wolfe takes a deep breath. “Of course I’m fucking worried. My sister is starting at Westfall in the fall, my mother is a fucking wreck, my father may be around a little more, but it still isn’t enough, and I don’t know how I’m going to get by with seeing Rebel so little,” he says. “But that isn’t what I want to talk to you about. I always have a fucking boatload to deal with.”

  “What is it then?” I ask. My foggy, sleepy head has cleared and I give Wolfe my full attention.

  “I’m fucking worried about you,” he says.

  “Oh that’s nice, sweetheart, but I’ll be just fine,” I laugh, mocking him.

  “Stop being an asshole. I’m being serious. You spent last season getting drunk too often. You fuck around too damn much,” he says.

  “That isn’t fucking fair. You were the same before you met Rebel,” I say.

  “True. But I brought it on the ice and I had to carry the responsibility of caring for my family too.”

  “Don’t throw that shit in my face. It isn’t fair,” I say feeling choked up.

  “I’m not blaming you for not having a family, asswipe. I’m worried that you’re on your own. No ties. I know you have Granny Mae but she’s thousands of miles away. You need to start getting your head on straight. You want to draft this year but you need to keep your head clean. Stay focused so Coach will put you front and center when the scouts show up,” he says.

  “Don’t you think that I want that for myself?” I ask Wolfe.

  “Yeah,” he nods. “You do, but you get pulled into throwing parties with Dec. He’s getting seriously out of hand. You don’t want him taking you down with him. I’ve tried talking to him too, but he’s angry at the world.”

  “Tell me about it,” I mutter. Beats me if I know what’s wrong with Declan.

  “I’m going to get my head on straight this year. You don’t need to worry,” I assure my best friend. “Let’s have some fun while we’re here though.”

  “We definitely need to have fun but we have a job to do. You can’t be a fucking guest here. You need to step up and help around here. This place needs to run like a fine-oiled machine. Don’t make Rebel and Holland do all the dirty work,” he says.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mumble. “Got it, boss.”

  “Fuck off and just be serious for once,” Wolfe says. He digs his teeth into his lower lip. “I wasn’t going to mention anything. . .”

  “But you’re obviously going to mention whatever it is,” I finish the sentence for him.

  “Rebel said that, uh. . .you and Holland possibly kissed at the party we had before you left,” Wolfe mutters. He’s never come down on me for a hookup before, but I get I touched the untouchable and will have to explain.

  But then his words process in my sleepy mind. Wait up. Kissed? Hell no. “We did a lot more than kiss,” I say proudly, then I remember that Wolfe is all about me keeping my dick in my pants when it comes to Holland.

  He tilts his head to the side. “Holland told Rebel you two kissed and passed out.”

  “Oh, we did a lot more than kissing before we passed out, but hey, I get it. It was a one-time thing and I totally plan on being a gentleman. She saved my life. You know what I mean?”

  “Rebel is seriously under the impression that it was just a little kiss,” he repeats.

  “Okay, we can go with that. Whatever makes the ladies happy.”

  Wolfe narrows his gaze on me. “Please don’t hit on her any more. She’s going through a rough time with her dad and has a lot on her plate, without things getting more complicated.”

  “I completely understand. I can be friends with her,” I say.

  “I don’t think she likes you, so friendship may be pushing it.” He winces.

  “She does too,” I reply, feigning insult.

  “Okay, whatever, man. Just don’t be pushy and don’t hit on her,” he repeats.

  “I’m on board with that. You know me. I only sleep with them once,” I remind, before I can think better of it.

  Wolfe’s brow furrows. “You didn’t sleep together. She would have told Rebel.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t forget a girl like her. Trust me when I say it was magic.” I wink.

  “Fucking hell, Cole.” Wolfe stands abruptly from the chair. “Do you think there is a chance Holland was too drunk to remember sleeping with you?”

  “No.” I shake my head repeatedly. “No fucking way. I’m unforgettable and I asked her like five times if she was sure before her bathing suit came off.”

  “Fine,” he says, but I can see Wolfe’s mind working. “Just get dressed. You need to make the beds. Rebel and Holland are outside waiting on the food delivery.”

  “Okay. Done,” I reply. Wolfe leaves my room but his words stick to me like a thick coat of honey. Is it possible that the gorgeous brunette doesn’t remember our night together? It seems impossible. Now it grates on me and I need to find out, but how?

  Nine

  Holland

  Rebel and I stand outside of the inn at the ass crack of dawn, waiting for a lady named Sylvia. She apparently drops off all the fresh produce and food we will need to cook for the day. Wolfe’s uncle, Daniel, left daily menus that we are supposed to follow.

  “You know I can’t cook for my life,” I remind Rebel.

  “I know, but I can teach you. It doesn’t hurt to learn. I mean, eventually you’ll move out of your house and won’t have Mary cooking for you,” Rebel says.

  “Yeah, that may be happening sooner rather than later. I can’t believe I just took off on my dad like that. Guilt is eating away at me, even though I feel like he doesn’t truly see me,” I sigh.

  “I know you’ve been complaining that he spends too much time at work, but have things gotten that bad between you two?” Rebel asks.

  “They aren’t bad, per se. He just doesn’t spend any time with me at all. He takes his dinners in his office. It hurts that he won’t come to the table to eat with me in the kitchen. For years I told myself he’s hurting but it’s been so long, and I needed him to be my parent. Shit, Rebel, lately I feel like I’m locked in a cage and I can’t escape,” I explain, trying to take a deep breath but my chest feels so tight it’s hard to take an easy breath.

  “I wish I knew you were feeling this way. You’ve always been so driven, I’m used to you having a one-track mind where medical school is concerned,” Rebel says.

  “I didn’t want to burden you but I’m glad you invited me out here. Although, I think it’s been kind of awkward with Cole. Did Wolfe mention anything to you about the party?” I ask Rebel. At most I can remember kissing Cole in bed before passing out. Which is a lot more than I should’ve been doing with him. Even though, if my memory is serving me correctly, the kiss was hot as hell because Cole Davis is a walking, living, breathing Adonis who is supposed to be totally off-limits.

  “Wolfe didn’t mention anything. He said he’d try to find something out while we’re here, but does it really matter anyway?” she asks.

  “I guess not. Whatever happened was a one-time thing,” I assure my best friend.

  “So nothing to worry about then.” Rebel shrugs. “Anyway, according to Wolfe, he’s pretty strict about not hooking up with a girl more than once. I know it sounds awful but Wolfe explained that he used to be the same way too. He said, he didn’t want to spend too much time with someone because he felt like he didn’t have anything to offer, although according to Wolfe’s psychoanalysis of Cole, he thinks Cole is messed up from his mom dying,” she explains, and I feel that familiar pain right where my heart is.

  “That would mess a person up,” I agree. “Although, I kind of think it’s funny that you have Wolfe psychoanalyzing people with you. Are you sure you don’
t want to ditch kinesiology for psychology?”

  “Very sure,” she nods.

  A large white truck pulls up at the inn. A tall woman with curly black hair and rounded belly, wearing a polo shirt and knee-length black shorts, steps out of the truck.

  “You must be Rebel,” she says to my best friend.

  “Yes,” Rebel says. “Nice to meet you, Sylvia.”

  “You too.” Sylvia smiles wide. “I’ve tried to convince Daniel to go to Europe for years now, but there was no way he was hearing it. Glad he has you and that nephew of his to step in.”

  “We were happy to come out here. It’s a break for us too,” Rebel says and she laughs. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? This is my best friend, Holland. She’ll be working here too and Wolfe brought along his friend, Cole.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say to Sylvia.

  “Good you brought along some extra hands. This place gets super busy,” Sylvia says.

  “Yeah, we’ll be pretty much sold out every night we’re here,” Rebel explains.

  “Daniel has some regulars who come up the same time each year. He’s thought of selling the place so many times. That mechanic shop is his main source of income, but this place belonged to his wife, Mia. It was her dream to open the inn. She was a good friend of mine. Passed before her time,” Sylvia shares.

  “Oh, I hadn’t realized.” Rebel palms her heart.

  My stomach sinks. Why is death everywhere I turn? It is starting to make me feel insane. I miss my mom like crazy, so I get it. I just hate how many people around me have dealt with loss. I came here to escape, yet it feels like there is no escaping.

  “Yeah, anywho. Let’s unload for today. I can come in and show you how to set up,” Sylvia says.

  “That would be really nice.” I’m feeling nervous now about taking on the responsibility of running this place properly. What if we don’t do as good a job as Daniel? What if his repeat customers complain that the food sucks? Rebel and I help Sylvia unload the crates of fresh fruits and vegetables. Rebel then helps her unload the fresh fish and meat because I think it smells gross.

  Sylvia walks into the inn like she is very familiar with the place and shows us around the kitchen. Her tour is much more thorough than the one Wolfe gave us last night and I’m grateful.

  “Let me help you get started on breakfast,” Sylvia offers.

  “That’s really nice of you,” Rebel says.

  Sylvia shows us how to cut watermelon and strawberries into really fancy shapes. We prepare cheese platters and Danish platters, and then she gives us a rundown on how to make large quantities of eggs and bacon that will actually taste good.

  “Okay, I’m guessing you two don’t have much experience cooking fish,” Sylvia says, looking between me and Rebel.

  “Honestly, I don’t,” Rebel winces. “My sister and I cook a lot of pasta.”

  I frown when Rebel makes that statement. I know she and Blossom have been pressed for cash for years. It’s something that never sat well with me, yet I know my friend would never want a handout from me, even though I try to treat her to meals or gifts when I can.

  “Okkaayy,” Sylvia says, drawing out the word. “Daniel sets up breakfast and dinner on the back terrace. Sometimes it’s too hot to have lunch there. I’ll be back before noon. Did you have a chance to set up the beds?”

  “Uh, our friend, Cole, is taking care of that. Wolfe already left for the garage,” Rebel explains.

  “Aw, too bad. I was hoping to congratulate him. Heard he’s going to be a professional hockey player. Daniel is so proud,” she says, and she washes her hands and dries them on a rag. “See you later.” She waves behind her as she leaves the kitchen.

  I look at Rebel. “That woman just majorly saved our asses.”

  “Yeah, I mean when I told Wolfe I could handle cooking I didn’t think it had to be this fancy,” Rebel exclaims waving her hand toward the food.

  “But we got this,” I say to her.

  “We do,” she agrees.

  “Would you mind checking to see if Cole has the linens under control?” she asks.

  I pause.

  “It felt like things were a little awkward on the car ride up yesterday. Maybe I should, you know, keep a distance from him,” I suggest.

  “You guys shared a kiss. It’s no big deal. If it didn’t mean anything to either of you then why should it matter?” she asks.

  She’s right. It shouldn’t. My mind drifts to the night the Westfall hockey team won the Frozen Four and we went out to celebrate. Cole’s and my lips accidentally locked. Then my memories travel to the night Wolfe and Cole hosted a party over a week ago. I piggybacked on Cole as we slid down the slip and slide, that much I remember. Along with his broad sculpted shoulders and the way my legs wrapped around his waist so easily.

  “Holland?” Rebel pulls me from my thoughts.

  “Hmm?”

  “You don’t have feelings for Cole, do you?” Her light brows dip, causing a crease between them.

  “Hell no,” I say and it’s true. I don’t have feelings for him. Am I attracted to him? Hell to the yes. But feelings, definitely not. “Okay I’ll go upstairs and check on him.”

  If we are going to be staying here together, I better be friendly. Besides, it’s not like we would ever hook up again. Cole has his rules and I have mine.

  Ten

  Cole

  The guests who arrived had their fancy breakfast and have checked into their rooms. That’s two guests in each room with five rooms, making for ten guests. Not as bad as I thought it would be but now that our job is done, I’m itching to get to the beach and relax.

  “Who’s coming with me to the beach?” I ask, looking between Rebel and Holland.

  Rebel yawns. “I need a nap.”

  “Of course you do.” I roll my eyes playfully.

  “Don’t be a jerk,” she says, punching me in the arm.

  “I’m joking,” I say.

  I turn my attention to Holland. Beautiful Holland with her round doe eyes, plump lips, and smoking body.

  “I’m going to go for a run. I need to blow off some steam,” she shares.

  Normally I would offer to help her blow off steam but I tapped that once; I won’t be doing it again, no matter how hot that night was.

  “Okay. So I’m off to the beach alone. Probably better that way. Easier to pick up chicks.” I grin.

  Holland’s nose scrunches. She shrugs and turns out of the kitchen. I wait a few beats before heading to my room to change since her room is next door to mine, and I want to give her space or maybe I need to give myself space from her. Whatever.

  I throw on some board shorts and take a towel, sunscreen, and sunglasses and head out of my room just as Holland is leaving her room.

  The fuck.

  I check her out in her too short shorts and barely-there sports bra.

  “What?” she asks.

  I snap my jaw closed.

  “Nothing,” I say and walk past her. Why the fuck does she have to be so damn hot? A picture of her in that hot bikini at our house party enters my mind, along with the memory of her grinding on me as we made our way up the stairs to my room that night. Does she seriously not remember how hot that night was? Usually chicks are always coming back for a piece of me yet she seems uninterested, which has to be impossible.

  Again I wait a few beats to give her a head start out the door. On the way out, I stop at the kitchen and take a plastic bag. I throw in a water bottle and a couple of apples. Then I head out to the beach. The sun is shining and it’s burning hot, but there is a light welcome breeze that brushes off the water.

  I find myself a spot in the sand next to a group of chicks who must be around my age. I set down my towel and watch as they notice me. It usually doesn’t take too long for the opposite sex to realize I’m near. I spray some sunscreen on my shoulders and lean back on my arms and watch the water. This is fucking relaxing but it’s also boring. I check the chicks out of the corne
r of my eye to see if any one of them catches my interest. There’s a cute blonde and a hot redhead. I don’t really have a preference when it comes to girls. They need to be good looking and willing. That’s my criteria. I think back to my convo with Granny Mae. She’s worried about me but she doesn’t need to be. Wolfe also seems concerned about me too. I don’t know why. I’ve gotten by just fine. Although, it did kind of get to me when he mentioned entering the draft in June. Do I really want that? I’ve loved being a part of hockey teams. When Mom died, I had hockey while dad had Amber. My teammates have been more like family than friends. My coaches have also been role models who’ve given me direction. Even now at Westfall, the team is my family. Though now with Wolfe gone, it won’t be the same. Thinking about entering the draft next year, and ending up in a new city where I don’t have anyone at all but new teammates and a new coach, makes my stomach turn, but what’s the alternative? Working with my asshole of a father? It’s not that I hate the company either. It’s a huge pharmaceutical company which has come up with drugs that help with many diseases. My mom was passionate about the company and got involved in all kinds of philanthropy work through it. I don’t hate the company per se. I just hate what my dad stands for today.

  The redhead makes eye contact and I smile. She smiles back. Good, we’re getting somewhere. I nod for her to come on over.

  She gets up and pats the sand off her behind. Her skin is creamy white and she has on a hot red bikini. She turns to tell her friend something and I see that it’s one of those bottoms that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

  She walks over to me and I invite her to have a seat beside me. She happily obliges.

  Her name is Katerina but she tells me to call her Kat. She and her friends are here for a little mini vacation. They go to U of Boston.

  I tell her I’m from Westfall and she says, “Wait a second. You’re Cole Davis, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I nod, “you a hockey fan?”

  “Not exactly,” she says and she tilts her head from side to side. “Maybe a little. My brother plays for the University of Boston so I follow the games. We may also have a small gossip column on campus. They tend to cover the teams that play Boston. You’ve come up once or twice. You’re friends with that player that’s going to the Rangers, right?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Wolfe something.”