No matter how gorgeous he was.
One good thing about my dad being my coach, I already knew a lot of the players on the team like I knew my own brothers. In fact, one of them was my brother.
Joe skated over as soon as my blades hit the ice. “You ready for this?”
“It’s just hockey, Joe. I’ve been playing since I was five same as you.” I jabbed my stick into the side of his skates, tripping him up and making him laugh. No mercy in the Parks family when it came to our favorite sport.
“You meet the new guy?” I followed his gaze to the place where Asher waited for practice to start, one elbow propped on the wall in front of the bench. He already wore his helmet making it difficult to see his face clearly even without a face mask.
“At school. He took my parking spot.”
Joe snorted. “Want me to beat him up for you?”
“I know. It’s silly.”
Joe hooked his arm around my neck. “You miss us.” I knew Joe would understand. “Wanna move in with Bobby and me?”
I wrinkled my nose and pushed his arm off. “Ew. No. Even if Mom and Dad would let me, it was bad enough when you lived at home and Mom made you guys clean up. I can’t even imagine what your apartment looks like let alone the smell.”
Joe cringed. “It is pretty bad. Especially, now-”
He didn’t have to finish his thought, I knew what he meant. Now he and Chelle, his girlfriend of two years, had broken up, he didn’t bother keeping the apartment clean.
“Sorry, Joe-Joe,” I reached up to ruffle his hair.
“It’s my own fault.” He batted my hand away from his head. “So, what do you know about the new guy?” He shot me a look. “Other than he took your parking spot.”
“Not much. His name’s Asher Sloane.” And he’s hot. Not something I’d admit to my brother. “He’s a senior.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw my dad stride out onto the ice, and put on my helmet. Kevin Parks waited for no man, or woman, if you weren’t ready when he said go, you could count on skating until your legs gave out and then he’d make you skate some more. “He had a guitar.”
“Huh. A guitar playing hockey player. Classy.”
Rolling my eyes, I adjusted my chin strap. Honestly, it had nothing to do with whether or not Asher played the guitar, he just didn’t fit the profile of a hockey player I had after years of being around a bunch of meat heads. He was just too pretty.
Joe skated in front of me and set his gloved hands on my shoulders. “Seriously, Jord, it’s cool you’re doing this. I’m excited your on our team. Don’t let these jokers give you a hard time. Play like we taught you and you’ll do just fine.”
“Thanks, Joe.” The sincerity in his eyes threatened to bring tears to my eyes. Thankfully, he broke up the moment by returning to his usual pain in the butt self.
“I’m not going to take it easy on you, though, just because you’re a girl and my sister. As team captain, it’s my job to make sure we play to win. No slacking.”
I pushed his shoulder. “When have I ever been a slacker?”
Joe laughed as he skated away from me to center ice where everyone else waited. Everyone except Asher.
And me.
Two outsiders.
Dad blew his whistle. “Line up!”
Asher
I watched Jordan flirt with one of the guys on the team and tried to ignore the stupid pang of jealousy making my heart feel heavy in my chest. At least, until the guy skated away and I got a good look at his face. Joe Parks. Her brother.
The relief I felt was just as stupid as the jealousy.
I wasn’t here to pick up a girlfriend. I wasn’t even here to play hockey. I’d shown up to practice for one reason and one reason only, the deal I made with my dad, the one where he let me keep pursuing my music if I kept playing hockey.
Pushing thoughts of my dad to the back of my mind, I focused instead on Jordan. I’d been right. Seeing her in hockey gear and skates was way hotter than it should have been. Hockey uniforms weren’t sexy. At. All. But I knew what it took to play against guys like the ones on this team and the fact she could keep up with them?
Hot.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Which was how I ended up beside her on the goal line when Coach began calling out drills.
“Stalking me, Sloane,” she asked.
“I showed up first every time today. Maybe you’re stalking me.” Coach blew his whistle and we both took off. Jordan had to be at least six inches shorter than me, but she was fast. We reached the goal line within nano seconds of each other, slid into a hockey stop, turning quickly to go back.
Once we’d all returned to the start, Coach blew his whistle again and we skated backward.
“Why would I want to do that?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
Why indeed? I knew a lot of girls found me attractive. I didn’t miss the way Jordan’s eyes widened when I got out of my car this morning. I liked the idea of her being attracted to me.
“You tell me,” I said, giving her my best smolder.
Her mouth dropped open before she could catch herself. She schooled her features into a bored mask. “Does that really work for you?”
I winked. “All the time, gorgeous.” I hadn’t meant to add that last part, it just slipped out.
She made a disgusted sound and I laughed.
“Something funny, Sloane?” Coach yelled over the noise of everyone’s skates.
“No, sir!”
Crap.
As my coach and Jordan’s dad, I did not want to be on Coach Parks’s bad side. Putting my head down, I focused on skating. After a few seconds, I glanced over at Jordan. She caught me. I widened my eyes with a grin. Instead of smiling back, she scowled and it occurred to me, for some reason, I cared.
Coach blew his whistle again. And again. Back and forth, we completed warmups, skating forward, backward, forward again but jumping the lines, then with the puck. Jordan skated as though she had something to prove. With her shorter legs, she had to work harder to keep pace with me and I wondered if she’d done any speed training. My dad could be a bit of a fanatic. He sent me to every kind of training for speed, strength, agility. He even made me do yoga.
Little did he know I had no intention of pursuing hockey after high school. His dreams of me playing at the next level were just that, dreams. I’d play by his rules until I graduated, but then I had every intention of following in my mother’s footsteps straight to microphone. All without worrying about my dad and what he wanted.
I didn’t hate hockey. I’d been playing long as I could remember. The hockey stick felt like an extension of my arm. Like a basketball player dribbling the ball, handling the puck required skill, practice. And like basketball players, some had better skills than others.
Jordan knew what she was doing.
“You’re good,” I murmured just loud enough for her to hear as we crossed the line.
She shot me a dirty look. “For a girl, you mean.”
I shook my head. “I’d never say that.”
Girl or not, she had to be good to play for Kevin Parks even if she was his daughter. He didn’t have the winningest record in the state for nothing.
We were teammates and I hated that we’d gotten off on the wrong foot. That meant we needed a truce.
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t know that was your spot. And at lunch, too. Can’t you cut the new guy some slack?” We’d just finished the last of the skating drills. Around us, everyone breathed hard. If you didn’t sweat off five pounds at hockey practice, you weren’t doing it right.
Jordan bent slightly at her waist, sucking air. She lifted her head, settling her gaze on me. Her eyes moved from the top of my head, over my face, down my neck and shoulders until they stopped.
Her eyes flew to mine.
“You’re left handed.”
I glanced at the offending hand before meeting her blue-eyed gaze again. “Yeah. So?”
“
I’m left handed.”
I’d noticed, but still didn’t understand what she was getting at.
“Don’t you get it?” She clenched her jaw, shaking her head just a little. “How many left-handed players do you think there are on this team, genius?”
Frowning, I wondered where she was going with this. “Not many.”
“That’s right. Not many. Only three including you and me.”
She slung the words like mud and they hit me, splattered across my face. There were two left handed positions on the ice at a time.
We might be teammates, but every week, Jordan and I would be in competition for the same spot. And from the look on her face, if I hadn’t already earned the title, I’d just become public enemy number one.
Chapter Three
Jordan
Usually I didn’t wait for my dad after practice. I had my own car and he had things he needed to do before he could leave. I waited just outside his office door until he glanced up from his computer.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he rose from his desk and walked around it with his arms outstretched.
“You probably don’t want to hug me, Dad.”
He wrapped me in a familiar hug. “I’m not scared.”
I held him tight, basking in the security of his embrace. I needed it after today.
“What’s the matter, kiddo?” he asked, planting a kiss on the top of my head before pulling back to search my eyes.
I shrugged, wishing I knew the answer myself.
Dad frowned, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You worried about something? Did something happen at school today?”
I shook my head.
“You’re worried about the team?” His expression hardened. “Did anyone give you a hard time today? The new guy? I saw the two of you talking.”
“No, Dad. Nothing like that.” Asher kind of was the problem, but not in the way my dad thought.
“Then, what?”
I bit my lip, glancing down. But Dad wasn’t having it, chucking my chin until my eyes met his.
I shrugged again. “I just-” How could I explain how I felt, how much I wanted this? Playing hockey had been my dream all my life. I knew he understood, but- “Asher. He’s left handed.” He already knew, of course.
“Ahhh.” Dad’s eyes narrowed. He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest, visibly changing roles from ‘Dad’ to ‘coach’. For a long moment, he studied me with an expression I recognized. He wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to hear, he’d tell me the truth whether I was ready or not.
“I told you when you asked me to help you talk to the commission, I couldn’t give you any special favors, Jordan. You’d have to earn your spot on my team, same as everybody else. I make the decision before every game about who will put us in the best position to win and they start in games. But that doesn’t mean anyone will ride the bench all season. You know as well as I do this is a demanding sport. I need my bench to be just as strong as my starting lineup.”
I nodded, because I did know. “But, Dad-” I swallowed hard against the emotions clogging my throat. “Dad, if I don’t start, what are my real chances of getting noticed by anyone? I want to play at the next level. I don’t want to be done when I’m too old to play in the junior league.”
Dad reached a hand up to the back of his neck and sighed. “I know, sweetheart, and I think you made the best decision to get you there by coming to play for me. But, Jordan, I have nineteen guys on this team who deserve the same shot you have. Asher included. I can’t show you any special treatment even if I want to do just that. But what I can do is give you the best training and coaching I know.”
“I know. I just-” I sniffed, rubbing the back of my hand under my nose.
Colleges didn’t look at second string. They wanted the best. And the best started. Justin Painter, the only other left handed player on our team was a bruiser, perfect for left side defense, leaving left wing to me. Until Asher showed up. Now it would be a competition every week for the starting position. Dad would never put me in the defensive position, I didn’t have the build. But I had what it took as a winger, fast, tough, smart. I knew the game of hockey inside and out. You didn’t have to be left handed to play on the left side, but it provided a clear advantage, one I’d planned to exploit.
But now?
Now, I’d have to work doubly hard to earn my spot. I didn’t fear hard work, I’d put in the time, but would it be enough?
Dad took a deep breath. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t worry about Asher or anyone else. All you can do is play your game, do your best, and I’ll be really honest, honey, if your best doesn’t cut it to start on my team, then you aren’t ready for what’s out there.”
That hurt and did little to calm my anxiety.
“Jordan, look at me.” He waited until I did. “You have the one thing I can’t teach these other guys, and that’s heart. You want this, so go get it. Work harder than anyone, listen to what I teach you, and the rest will take care of itself. Okay?”
I nodded and he hugged me again. I inhaled his comforting scent. I’d always been a daddy’s girl. I used to love sitting on his lap as a little girl while he watched hockey on the television. My love of the game intertwined with my love for my dad.
“Thanks, Daddy.”
He squeezed the breath from me making me laugh.
“I’ll see you at home,” he said, releasing me to sit behind his desk again while I headed toward the door. “Hey, Jord?”
I turned to face him. “Yeah?”
“I love you, kiddo. As important as this is to you and as much as you want it, hockey isn’t everything. Don’t forget to live your life while you pursue your dreams.”
“I love you, too. And I’ll try.”
Dinner used to be my favorite time of day, when everyone finally got home and we sat around the table talking and joking. I’ve always loved the sense of security when we were all together. I didn’t love change under most circumstances, but especially when it came to my family. First Bobby moved out, then Joe. Now they only came around on Sunday afternoons for Mom’s pot roast and to use the washer and dryer. I’d see Joe everyday at hockey practice, but it wasn’t the same as it used to be when we were younger. With only the four of us at the table, the silence just felt awkward.
“How was the first day of school?” Mom asked, her eyes flicking between Payton and I.
The scowl on my younger brother’s face answered well enough. Mom looked at me.
“Oh, um,” I stammered. “It was fine. Good.”
Mom set her fork down on her plate. “Fine? Good? That’s all I get? How were your classes? Did you see Natalie and Kelly?”
Okay, we were sharing. I liked it better when the older boys were around to make a joke of everything.
“Classes were fine. I have some homework. Natalie and Kelly were there. I don’t have any classes with them, which kind of stinks.”
Mom picked up her fork again. “Well, that’s okay. You’ll have an opportunity to meet new people.”
“Not many new kids when you’ve been going to the same school since kindergarten, Mom.” Except Asher who I’d run into more times than I wanted.
“We have a new guy on the team,” Dad spoke to Mom but winked at me. “His name’s Asher.”
I narrowed my eyes. What was he up to?
“He’s new at school, too, isn’t he?” Dad held back a chuckle.
I rolled my eyes. Dad got a kick out of teasing me.
“A new boy at school?” Mom asked, overly interested. “What’s he like?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him much.”
I kicked Payton under the table. He looked up, ready for a fight. I widened my eyes at him, praying he’d understand my silent communication to join the conversation and save me.
“What about you, Pay? How was your day?” I asked when he remained quiet.
“And he plays hockey?” Mom asked as though I hadn
’t even spoken to Payton.
I shot my brother a dirty look, but he just grinned. “Yeah, he plays hockey. And he’s a senior. That’s about all I know about him.” That and he wanted to steal my starting position.
Darn, Asher Sloane!
“Did you know his family moved into the Cunningham’s house behind us?”
My fork clatter to my plate. “No way.”
Dad nodded, continuing to eat as though he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on my dinner. “I didn’t make the connection until last night when I went over everyone’s registration paperwork and noticed the address.”
Awesome.
My teammate/enemy was also my neighbor.
For the next two hours, I avoided my favorite place, my bedroom. Being the only girl had it’s benefits, the best, having my own room. It served as a haven away from my brothers when the got on my nerves, a place to secretly stalk Shawn Mendes on Instagram without getting teased. In short, I loved my bedroom.
And suddenly, because of one Asher Sloane, I also feared it.
Why?
Because it faced the Cunningham’s old house.
Asher might have been on my last nerve, but I couldn’t deny the guy intrigued me. He had his good looks. He played hockey. And who didn’t like a guy who played guitar?
Which was why I didn’t want to go in my room. I knew if I did I’d be tempted to stand at my window to try and catch a glimpse of the new family who practically shared our backyard.
Who was I kidding?
I didn’t want to see his family.
I wanted to see Asher.
So, I stayed downstairs and worked on my homework at the table. Then, I took my time in the shower, shaving my legs and giving my hair a good wash until the steam filling the bathroom grew so thick I could barely see.
With my shower finished, I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to go into my room or spend the rest of the night in a bath towel. After slipping through the door like a thief in the night, I tiptoed over to the window. I left the light off and made sure to stand to the side because getting caught half naked by my new neighbor would just be the perfect ending to a perfectly crappy day.
Playing to Win (The Trouble with Tomboys Book2) Page 3
