Fire and Ice (Sticks & Hearts Book 2)

by Rhonda James

  All four of us wait for Coach to address us, and thankfully he doesn’t keep us waiting long.

  “Sounds like this guy needs to be taught a lesson.” He holds up a hand, halting me before I can speak up. “But that lesson shouldn’t have taken place on MY ice. Deserved or not, what you did tonight probably cost us the game. Son, at this point in our season, I need you on that ice. Now, as much as it pains me, I have to suspend you from next week’s game. And you won’t be practicing with us, at least not while we’re running game drills. But don’t think you’re getting off that easily. I’m going to make sure Coach Taylor works your ass hard. I can’t have the other players thinking you’re getting preferential treatment.”

  “Yes, Sir. I understand completely.” Cage stands and joins us at the door as we start to file out.

  “Cage, if Cassie ever feels like talking with someone, tell her she can reach out to my wife, Lisa. She works at the Women’s Center down on Fifth, and they offer some really great programs for women who’ve gone through similar experiences.” He walks a business card over to where Cage is standing beside me, and he accepts it with a quiet nod. “If everything you’ve said is true, I’ll need to speak with the Dean about notifying Coach Walker at Minnesota. His alleged behavior goes against everything I’ve ever tried to teach you boys about respect for yourself and others. I’m quite certain Coach Walker has tried to set the same example for his boys.”

  “Thanks, Coach,” Cage replies, his voice cracking slightly as he stares at the card while avoiding all eye contact.

  I sense things are turning far too emotional in here, so I drape my arms around Cage and Masterson’s shoulders and waggle my brows.

  “For crying out loud, get your asses out of here and go put on some fucking pants.” He chuckles to himself and slams the door behind us.

  Later, when we’re back at the house, the TV’s blaring, and everyone’s spread out on the sofas, Cage corners me in the kitchen.

  “Thanks for looking out for me with Coach. I know it probably wasn’t easy after that loss. You played a killer game.”

  “Word.” We made like we were going to bump fists but changed it up at the last second to avoid his bad hand. “No thanks necessary, man. We’re brothers. And brothers stand together, no matter how bloody the fight. You know I’ve always got your back.”

  There’s no doubt in my mind he would do the same for me. Cage. Rivers. Masterson. These guys aren’t just my teammates, or my best friends. They’re family. And no matter what direction our future may take us, I know if I ever need them, they’ll all show up, ‘cause that’s what we do.

  It’s not just who we are.

  It’s how we’re made.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  LANEY

  Ever heard the quote that goes something like, Too much of a good thing is probably bad for you?

  Well, I’m calling bullshit, because Derek and I have spent the last two weeks flirting shamelessly back and forth via text and cryptic photo messages, and all I can think about is I need more.

  I’m afraid to tell him this. Afraid to find what he’s offering may be all there is to whatever this is we’re doing.

  After all, what are we really?

  Two people who shared a night of stimulating conversation and hot sex?

  A part of me wants to believe there was something more. But believing in something like that requires hope.

  And hope is something I no longer put much faith in.

  While having hope allows you to dream the impossible, giving up hope in something or someone can be life altering. In fact, it may even turn you into someone you no longer recognize.

  That’s why this thing with Derek feels like it could be something more. Meeting him has changed something within me. And little by little, he’s wormed his way into my life, and the hope I once believed to be gone forever has slowly started making its way back into my dark and empty life.

  Nearly a month has passed since he last held me in his arms and opened his heart in the quiet darkness of his Atlanta hotel room. I think about that hotel. How we found each another. His relentless pursuit in spite of my futile attempts to try and deny him.

  Deny myself.

  I think about what a fool I was to try and resist his charms.

  A man like Derek is irresistible. And the worst part is—he knows this.

  I’ve come to rely on his daily texts. In fact, I’ve taken to checking my phone every five minutes just to see if I’ve missed one. They make me smile. He leaves me feeling desired. Then, one day last week, out of the blue, he picked up the phone and called me. We’ve talked every day since. Sometimes he calls in the morning, but he always ends the day with a phone call. He says he wants his voice to be the last thing I hear before falling asleep.

  I’ve never actually gotten caught up in a whirlwind romance before, but that’s exactly what this is. Sure, maybe it’s more of the fairy tale kind where knights come out of nowhere and rescue a wayward soul. After all, in some small way, hadn’t I been lost?

  I’d lost hope in my future.

  And I’d lost my faith in humanity.

  And then I met Derek…

  Tonight when the phone rings, I don’t even bother checking caller ID. I already know who it is. My whole body knows, and I draw in a breath and hold it until I hear his deep voice on the other end.

  “Please tell me you’ve been thinking of me and couldn’t wait to hear my voice.” His words go straight to my belly and the butterflies begin fluttering. “Because I sure as fuck haven’t been able to get you off my mind today.” I hear a rustling noise and immediately picture him climbing into bed.

  “Reall-y?” My voice cracks, and I rush to clear my throat before trying again. “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. I had a freaking boner the entire time I was at practice. You have any idea how uncomfortable that can be? It’s a good thing I wear a cup, or I would have had a lot of explaining to do.” A ripple of laughter erupts from his throat, and I can’t keep from smiling.

  “Guess it’s a good thing tennis is an individual sport,” I retort, knowing full well he isn’t a tennis player. I’m willing to bet he’s never held a racket in his life. His snort confirms my suspicions.

  The fact we know so little about one another is not lost on me. I’m the reason for all the secrecy. I’m sure if Derek had his way, he’d already know the exact time I was born and my social security number. When we first hooked up, I told him I only wanted his first name. I felt the less we knew about each other, the easier it would be once we parted ways. Besides, a little mystery keeps things interesting. Right?

  There were so many things we didn’t know about the other. Last name, birthday, where we lived. Hell, I didn’t even know how old he was, but I assumed he was my age, maybe a little older. I decided maybe it wouldn’t hurt if I asked him to divulge one personal tidbit.

  “What sport do you play? ‘Cause I know it’s not tennis.”

  “What? You don’t think I can pull off the outfit?” he jokes then goes quiet. “You’re asking personal questions. Does this mean you want to get to know me better? Other than in the biblical sense, I mean.” His soft chuckle vibrates clear down to my toes.

  “I want to know.” I answer softly. “I just want to take it slowly. How about for tonight we each get one question?”

  “I’m down with that. So, if we only get one question are you sure that’s the first thing you want to know about me? Perhaps something along the lines of ‘You’re not a serial killer, are you?’ might be a better option.” The playful tone of his voice transports me back to the night we met.

  “I believe you proved that when you had me in your bed and the only thing you tortured me with was your tongue.” The sigh on the other end of the line speaks volumes. “And yes, that is my question.”

  “You’re killing me, you know that, don’t you?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “I play hockey. I have ever since I was little. I’m pretty damn good at it, too.”r />
  “Hockey, huh? Guess that explains things.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “Why you’re so good with your stick,” I deadpan.

  Laughter spills through the line, and I find myself longing to be back in his arms with my ear pressed against his chest. He has the best laugh. It’s warm and deep and highly contagious.

  “Well, I am a very dedicated player, and I take practice very seriously,” he says huskily, and I shiver, because his words remind me I’m one of many women he’s practiced on. As if sensing something has shifted between us, his voice softens to a whisper. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “No,” I clear my throat. “I get it. You’ve been with a lot of girls. It’s no big deal,” I say, somehow hoping if I say the words out loud, then maybe I’ll start believing them. Why should I care that he’s been with a lot of girls? We’re just fooling around here. Just passing time until he gets bored and moves along to someone else. Hell, for all I know, there could already be someone else.

  That shouldn’t bother me. But it does.

  It bothers me a lot more than I care to admit.

  “Hey, listen to me. I’m not going to lie and tell you there haven’t been girls in my past. The number is insignificant, anyhow. For the past month there’s only been one girl consuming my every waking thought. And that’s you, Laney.” The conviction behind his words erases any and all doubt I was feeling only moments ago.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you, either,” I quietly admit.

  “Really?” He sounds surprised, and I can hear the smile behind his voice. “What are you doing right now? Where are you?”

  I take one look around the space I’m in my bedroom. Not the dorm. This is my space. My home. The only home I’ve ever known.

  “I’m in bed.” I rustle the blankets a little just to prove it. “Talking to you. And smiling. I’m smiling.”

  “Smiling, huh? Have I told you how much I fucking love your smile?” he rasps, and my smile broadens.

  “I’m not sure,” I giggle. “You may have mentioned loving a few things about me.”

  “I guarantee I meant every word,” he says with sincerity, pausing for the words to sink in, then his tone turns more serious. “There hasn’t been anyone else since Atlanta. You know. In case you were wondering.”

  My heart softens, melting away any doubt that may have momentarily crept in. “I wasn’t thinking that. After all, what are we really doing here? It’s not as if we’ve staked claim. We fucked and we shared naked pictures, which you better destroy at some point in time. What could this possibly amount to? You’re free to do as you wish.”

  As soon as the words are out there, I can’t believe I’ve finally spoken them aloud. But the fact remains that everything I just stated is true. I don’t own him. What if he’s just toying with my emotions?

  You don’t really believe that, my subconscious quietly reprimands me.

  “Christ, Laney. Is that what you think? That you’re just another girl I’ve fucked?” he asks incredulously. When I don’t immediately respond, he huffs loudly into the phone. “Screw this!”

  “Wait! Derek?”

  He doesn’t answer. All I hear is silence, and I fear he may have hung up.

  “Derek?” I eek out. This time he grunts, so I know he’s still with me. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think. All I know is if I allow myself to think there may be more to this than there really is, there’s a greater risk I’ll get hurt. From the moment we met, I’ve tried so hard to be strong, but there’s really no sense fighting, because you’ve charmed your way into my life. You’re already in my heart, and that scares me so badly.”

  “Oh, Pookie,” he says sweetly, and that one word soothes me as if he’s physically reaching through the phone and cupping my face in his hands. His voice drops low, and the longing I feel for him increases tenfold. “You’re in my heart, too, only I’m not afraid. I like having you there. The only thing better would be if I could see you again, and not just for sex. I want to hold you. Kiss you. Cradle you in my arms. Run my fingers through your hair. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you realize I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”

  His use of that ridiculous nickname makes me think of Atlanta and the way he protected me from Noah. I remember the tender way he rocked into me, and the sweet words he whispered after.

  With every memory, my heart softens a little more, and while deep down I know he could potentially break me, I’m secretly hoping he’ll also be there to put me back together.

  “That all sounds amazing, but do you honestly see this going anywhere? I mean, you’re there and I’m here. If people are going to kiss and do all those things you mentioned, don’t they have to be in the same room?” I laugh softly, wishing he could be here right now, lying next to me on the bed.

  “Hells yeah, I do, and I have an idea. My birthday is this weekend. Why don’t I book a flight to Atlanta this Friday? I’ll get a room at the same hotel. Hell, I’ll even book the same suite. All you have to do is say yes. Please, say yes,” he pleads, his voice hoarse.

  This is where things get really tricky. See, along with the other important points of conversation we’ve avoided, where we both live lies right at the top of that list. It makes sense for him to assume I live in Atlanta, and I find myself not jumping in to correct him. I figure I can pick up a few extra shifts over the next few days to cover the cost of the plane ticket. I know it’s wrong to lie, and it may come back to bite me in the ass, but passing up the opportunity to be with him one more time feels like it would be the worst decision I could ever make.

  “Just tell me what time to meet you, and I’ll be there.” I close my eyes and silently hope he never discovers the truth.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  DEREK

  Now that a plan to meet has been set in motion, I can’t stop thinking about her.

  She’s always on my mind, but this time, it feels different. Walking around, knowing in less than twenty-four hours I’ll be able to hold her again. Do all the things I’ve been dreaming about. All the things we’ve been texting about. The promises we both whispered during intimate moments over the phone.

  I love listening to her fall apart. The breathy sounds that slip past her lips when the orgasm rocks her body. Knowing I’m the one taking her there.

  That kind of power is heady.

  And I’m not gonna lie, it makes me a little crazy.

  Almost to the point of mild obsession.

  I keep going over our time in Atlanta and how quickly things progressed. I don’t understand how it was that in a short span of time I’ve allowed her to get to me. I wasn’t looking for anything more than casual sex, and in the beginning, I think that’s how it started between us. For me, anyway.

  From the first moment I touched her skin I knew I had to be inside her. The alcohol we both ingested only fueled our desire. Her skin was soft and smooth. I couldn’t stop touching her. When I slipped my fingers between her legs and felt the heat generating down there, I couldn’t help but plunge inside. The feeling of her soaked core squeezing my fingers…I swear to God, I saw stars. Seeing her fall apart, knowing it was at my hand, gave me a rush that rivaled any game-winning goal I ever scored. I knew then I’d never be able to get enough of this girl.

  Her running out on me, and the look in her eyes when I tracked her down, solidified what I determined back in my room. She wanted me, too, but she didn’t trust herself, or me, at least not fully. But later, when we came together, she became so much more than a casual hook-up.

  I’m not exactly sure when it happened, but she managed to find a way into my heart and, without her knowledge, I allowed her to make herself at home.

  I don’t know the reasons why, but it’s clear Laney is hurting and needs someone to care for her and help repair the broken pieces. But she’s not the type of woman who’s just going to hand herself over. She’s going to make me work for it.

  If proving I’m worthy
of her trust is what she needs, then I’ll spend the rest of my life punching a fucking clock to make her see I want to be the one to wipe away all of her pain.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  LANEY

  I remember one day when I was sixteen, I was sitting on the sofa watching television when a story came on the news. It was a story about a man who’d left for work one morning and came home to find everything he’d once held dear had been destroyed by an F3 tornado. While the reporter interviewed the grieving man, the camera panned to show the neighborhood where the destruction had taken place. It was a small neighborhood, with only a few houses scattered here and there, but his had been the only one affected.

  I remember wondering, why only that house?

  As I watched the interview, I remember thinking this man had been cheated. And why him? No one else’s lives had been shattered the way his had. I later learned he hadn’t even been scheduled to work that day. He’d gone in, because a co-worker had gone home sick and his family had needed the extra money. As time went on, I found myself thinking about that man. I wondered if he ever regretted making that choice to go to work, because the choice he’d made had been the very act that saved his life, but the life saved had been forever changed by the death of those who had been his very reason for living.

  Flash forward three years—I was sitting on the same sofa with the news channel running in the background. The living room was filled with people, but not one was a face I recognized. In fact, I wasn’t certain what was even happening. A woman sat across from me, repeating what she’d already stated twice before. But I hadn’t been listening. My eyes were glued to the television, where a familiar reporter stood on a country road that also looked familiar.

  Apparently, a fiery crash had taken place out on M-52, claiming the life of a thirty-nine year old mother. Her husband had been severely burned during a valiant attempt to try and rescue her. The reporter indicated that a drunk driver had crossed the yellow line and collided with a car in the northbound lane. The same driver had veered back into his lane and hit another car before fleeing the scene of the accident. The other vehicle had flipped and rolled down an embankment before erupting in flames. Eyewitnesses reported that the driver was alert but never once attempted to leave the burning vehicle. They said he remained in the car and fought to release his wife from the wreckage. By the time the eyewitnesses were able to pull him to safety, the car was so engulfed it was impossible to rescue the woman before she perished. The reporter said the man had suffered second- and third-degree burns and had been rushed to the hospital for treatment.