by Amanda Cowen
“Listen, Cash,” Theo says. “I’m not promising anything right now, but we can continue this discussion during our scheduled meeting at eleven.”
“I have shit to do today, Theo, so you’ll have to meet with me now.” Cash crosses his toned forearms. “What’s our meeting about anyway? The Charity Skate?”
“That’s right.” Theo responds.
“Great. Then let’s get started.” Cash collapses onto the sofa in the corner of my office.
Theo’s mouth thins. “I’ll grab my files.”
When Theo turns away, Cash’s sexy blue eyes find mine. My breathing quickens when he leans back on the sofa, spreading his thick strong legs, almost daring me to follow and straddle my own legs around his waist. For a split second I actually consider climbing over his lean athletic build to bury myself against his rock hard chest and inhale his delicious scent forever.
“Have you thought about it?” he asks, snapping me out of my fantasy.
“About what?” I reply as coolly as possible, searching through the drawer on my desk for a pen and pad of paper.
Theo reappears into my office, iPad in hand, frowning. “Alright, let’s start.”
I straighten up, retorting into professional mode, walking past Cash and into the vacant chair beside him. Crossing my legs, I feel Cash’s eyes sliding down my long lean legs. I shift slightly turning my back to him, watching Theo loosen his tie, before sliding onto the sofa next to Cash.
“Alright, first things first,” Theo says, all business-like. “The Charity Skate is in a few months from now.”
My pen is scribbling away, trying to jot down every single word coming out of Theo’s mouth. I can’t help myself from being so efficient. It is my type-A personality mixed with my fear of failure. I can’t stand the thought of making mistakes or losing control.
“Uh oh, looks like you missed a word,” Cash whispers, leaning over the sofa.
I drop my pen, giving him a look of disgust. “Mind your own business and start listening.”
“That’s what you’re for.” He grins.
Rolling my eyes, I watch Cash relax into the sofa. Over the next thirty minutes, he yawns and sips on his coffee while Theo reviews every minute detail of what he wants Cash to do to help promote the event. I try my best to ignore him, but his stare coupled with the muscles bulging on his forearms makes it really difficult to concentrate, especially since a smile tugs at the corners of his lips every time he glances at me.
“You better be on your best behavior,” Theo warns Cash, shutting off his iPad.
“Aren’t I always?” he replies with a cocky grin.
Theo leans back. “Listen, Brooks, I don’t want any shit. A lot is riding on this event. There will be a huge media presence and everyone, including the league, is expecting to see the new and improved Cash Brooks.”
“As long as you promise Quinn will be there.”
“Quinn isn’t your employee. She’s mine. I decide if she needs to be at an event.”
Cash’s nostrils flare. “Is that so? Because I’m pretty sure that without me on this team, your goddamn events wouldn’t exist.”
The two of them glare at each other. Cash looks like he is ready to punch my boss in the face, while Theo looks like he’s waiting to dodge the inevitable swing.
“I don’t mind going to any team event,” I say in a desperate attempt to diffuse the situation. “But just to be clear,” I add, eager to check his ego, “Team events existed before you got here, Brooks, and will continue to exist without you.”
Cash’s lets out a deep breath. When he turns around, his blue eyes soften. He slowly sinks back into the sofa. “Hear that, Theo. Quinn doesn’t mind.”
Theo taps his pen hard against the top of his iPad. “Just don't fuck up the Charity Skate. Do us all a favor and arrive on time and sober. Try to remember it’s a family event.” He quickly stands up from the sofa. Sober? I glance over at Cash, my eyes boring into him, but he says nothing. Was there something I’m missing?
“Thanks for coming in,” Theo says, dismissing Cash. “I think we’re done here. Good luck at the game tonight.”
“I want a minute alone with Quinn,” Cash demands, still stubbornly lounging on the sofa.
Theo scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t think that’s appropriate—”
“I wasn’t asking your permission,” Cash says, this time in a harder tone.
“Quinn?” Theo asks, looking over at me.
“It’s fine,” I reply, strategically rising to my feet. I walk over to my desk and place myself at a safe distance from Cash.
Theo nods at me. “Alright, but as soon as you’re done, I’d like to speak with you my office.” He scowls at Cash and leaves my office door fully open before crossing the hallway to his office.
Cash stands and follows me over to my desk. “Are you done thinking?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you coming to the game tonight?”
“If I say yes, will you get the hell out of my office and stop intimidating my boss?”
“Deal.” He looks pleased with himself. “Will you wear my jersey tonight?”
I roll my eyes and flop down in my chair. “Don’t push it, Brooks.”
“What if I score a hat-trick? If I do, will you let me take you out for dinner?”
I can’t tell whether he’s joking or propositioning me. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He stares back at me with his big baby blues.
“Whatever.” I dismiss him, raising my hand and concentrate on my computer screen. “Just get out of my office.”
As I begin to log in to my email, Cash’s retreating footsteps echo in my ears. “You’re welcome by the way,” he says from the doorway.
“For what?” I lift my head.
“The roses.” He leans against the frame with that cocky grin.
My heart races as he turns around again, providing me with the perfect shot of his rock hard ass. I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I want to hate him. I know he’s nothing but trouble. But there’s something about the way he smiles at me that makes me realize hating him is going to be next to impossible. The chemistry between us is unlike anything I have ever experienced before.
“Hi, Cash,” coos a female voice from the hallway. A petite blonde, holding a tray of coffee, runs her free hand along his bicep as she passes him.
“Hey, Becky.” He nods in her direction.
“I hope you have a good game tonight. I’ll be there, cheering you on all night long,” She wets her lips and gives him a wink.
As she continues down the hall, Cash looks back at me and shakes his head. “I bet she would have appreciated those roses and the tickets on your desk.”
I roll my eyes and give him a dismissive wave. “Goodbye, Cash.”
The rest of the morning, I find myself stuck in Theo’s office. He is all business, taking me through a step-by-step process of posting and updating on the Bruisers’ social-media sites. Theo gives me a rundown of the Bruisers’ calendar of events and my involvement with helping promote the team. Around five o’clock, we call it quits and I make my way back into my office to grab my things. The first and only thing I see is the white envelope holding those four tickets staring back at me from the top of my desk. Which makes me do two things; the first is tuck those tickets safely into my purse and the second is call Lyndsey to round the girls up for tonight’s game.
“You have got to be kidding me!” Lyndsey shrieks, following me into my bedroom.
“No, I’m not. I have four tickets for tonight’s game and a limo will be here any minute to pick us up.” Lyndsey’s mouth is practically on the floor.
For once my chatty sister is speechless. I turn my back to her and slide open my closet doors. I need to find something not only comfortable, but warm. Lyndsey insists the arena is far from cold, but if it weren't for those mittens last game that caused Cash to look my way, I would have been frozen solid by the end of the first peri
od.
“Did you already call Olivia and Vaughn and ask them to meet us there?” I ask Lyndsey as she flops onto my bed.
She nods and I pull my favorite pair of jeans off the hanger. She is lying on her stomach, legs in the air, ankles crossed. Her grin takes up half of her face and her eyes twinkle with a playful glimmer. “This is awesome. My sister is totally going to bang Cash Brooks, and I am going to hear all about it.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to bang him.”
“Why not?”
I slide on a white three-quarter sleeve shirt, pop my head out and scold my sister. “The only reason I agreed to attend the game tonight is because I need Cash to be cooperative with Theo. Which will only make my job a hell of a lot easier. The last thing I need is to get messed up with some brain dead jock and lose focus. We both know me staying in Bexley isn’t permanent.”
Lyndsey rolls over and sits up on the edge of the bed. “This is Cash Brooks we’re talking about Quinn. Trust me when I tell you he isn’t looking for anything permanent. The guy is known for being a womanizing party animal. Maybe that’s exactly the kind of guy you need right now. My guess is you could probably go for some really hot meaningless sex.”
I dismissively raise my hand. “I don’t do that kind of thing. You know that.”
“You’re telling me his rock hard biceps, gorgeous smile and bright baby blues don’t make your insides turn to mush?” She giggles, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Alright, you got me, okay. Yeah, Cash is insanely hot. Does that make you happy?”
“Yes.” Lyndsey proudly grins.
Damn her, cracking me like that.
Sliding on my jeans, I quickly change the subject. “What’s the deal with you and Louis? I saw the way he was looking at you the other night.”
“What about him? We’re just friends.” She coyly twirls a strand of her long brown hair, biting her lower lip.
I wrap a paisley scarf around my neck. “He seems to really like you.”
“Yeah, well, he’s cute an all, but—” A loud knock on the front door cuts Lyndsey off, and she springs off the bed. “The limo is here!”
As we pull up to the front of Arch Union Centre my heart picks up pace, pulsing in my chest with excitement. I feel silly getting all worked up over seeing him again equipped in skates and kicking ass on the ice.
Pull yourself together Quinn. You’re doing this to improve your working relationship with the Bruisers #1 star, not to suck him off after the game.
I inhale a sharp breath, knowing his hot blue eyes will know exactly where I’m sitting tonight. I’m nervous and aroused and hope to God he doesn’t dare pull any attention to our section. I am still recovering from last game and the embarrassment I felt knowing every single woman in the arena wanted to rip my hair out. But Cash is so impulsively fearless both on and off the ice that I wouldn’t put anything past him.
Stepping out of the limo, my head jerks up to see Olivia and Vaughn standing a few feet away on the sidewalk.
Vaughn is Lyndsey’s best friend from high school. She is a snarky red head that most women hate and all men adore. She is studying at the University of California, working hard at getting her Degree in Public Health. Olivia is petite blonde studying fashion design at the California College of the Arts and a longtime childhood friend. Our families are really close, and our fathers played professional ice-hockey together. She’s like a second sister to both Lyndsey and I, and she’s so funny and bubbly that is impossible not to lover her.
“Aw shit! Here comes trouble!” Vaughn shouts in a singsong voice, draping her arm around my shoulders. “Attention ladies, it’s the incoming Facebook craze that’s got Cash Brooks all worked up.”
“Vaughn, shut up. Do you want to get us killed?” I laugh nervously, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one heard her.
Lyndsey giggles. “Don’t even get her started, Vaughn.”
“But he’s soooo hot,” Olivia gushes, letting out a satisfied sigh.
“Yeah, he’s also a pompous ass.” I snort and lead our way through security and into the arena.
The arena is packed tonight. The stench of beer and sweat hits my nostrils as we push through the mobs of people funneling toward the rink. I start to feel a tiny bit of affliction, when I notice every other female under the age of thirty wearing Cash’s jersey. My stomach balls in knots when I see girl upon girl by-passing us with his number (17) painted on their face.
Once we get to our seats, front row and center behind the home bench, I immediately get the chills and slip on my white wool mittens. Great. I knew we would be close, but I didn’t realize how close we’d actually be. All Cash would have to do is turn around and his face would be practically touching mine if it weren’t for the glass separating us.
“I need hot cocoa,” I say, feeling my pulse skip a beat. I need something warm, and fast if I am ever going to survive this game.
“Can you get me one too, Quinny?” Vaughn asks, and then tugs on Lyndsey’s arm. “So who else on this team is single and ready to mingle?”
Lyndsey starts rambling off every single player name and their personal history like she is some sort of dating service. Maybe if she put that much effort into her studies, she could actually graduate college on time.
“Want me to come with you?” Olivia shouts over the roaring crowd.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be fine. Want anything?”
“No thanks.” She smiles.
As I wait in line for our drinks, the sound of females cheering and screaming causes me to jerk my head to the side and down the long stretch of hallway. The local news has blocked off a section near the elevator, where bodyguards surround the taped perimeters and cameras and microphones hang into a closed off section.
“Omigod! They are going to interview him!” Some girl behind me shouts. She pushes past me, knocking me in the shoulder.
When I look up, a spark of nervousness pierces my gut, sending my insides for a twisted turn of lust. Cash is accompanied by the Head Coach, Tony Bartley, on his left and the General Manager, Dwayne Carson, on his right. His demeanor is relaxed and he stands there all smug looking with his helmet off and his wild wavy honey hair free and unruly.
The women surrounding the perimeters scream his name, over and over and over again, making me really uncomfortable. A pretty blonde reporter asks him questions, but I can’t hear anything she asks or anything he responds over the noise. But whatever is coming out of his mouth has him smiling and showcasing his lick-able dimples on both sides of his scruffy cheeks.
“What are you getting, honey?” the lady behind the counter asks.
“Hot cocoa. Two please.”
My body feels warm and everything intensifies, from my heartbeat, to my breathing to the prickling on my skin. When my gaze finds its way back to the crowd, Cash’s eyes are on me. The intensity in his smile when our eyes meet, has me so jittery and vulnerable that when the lady behind the counter passes me the hot cocoa I ordered, the trembling of my fingers causes me to spill a few droplets down the front of my shirt. His blue eyes crinkle, and he lets out a chuckle, seeing me fumble, wiping away the wet mess. I blush, stripped by his powerful stare that even has the reporter glancing over her shoulder to search for what has Cash so captivated.
I look away, crammed within the crowd. I’m shoved from behind by some young girl screaming for Cash’s attention. Steadying myself on my feet, I am shuffled back and forth with the movement of females being ushered by security into the stairwells of the arena to find their seats. When I look back up, Cash is gone. My senses ignite, feeling his eyes, crashing into me from a few feet away. He smiles at me amid the chaos and mouths, “Nice, Mitts.”
In a blink of an eye, Dwight, the general manager, leads Cash into the elevator. When he steps onto the platform with his entourage close behind, he gives me a wink before the shiny silver doors shut on his perfectly sculpted face.
Chapter 4
The instant he steps on
to the ice my heart races. When the crowd around us sees him bolt out from behind the bench, his chants of praise tear throughout the arena. The crowd goes wild when Cash slams the opposing team’s star player into the boards, cutting across the ice with the puck dancing against his stick. He’s on fire tonight. My nerves tingle and my insides burn with desire watching him carry the puck up the right side and pass it across the ice. Louis cradles the puck with his stick, pushing past an opposing defender and takes a shot on net.
The puck bounces off the red metal bars, never meeting the white mesh net, freeing the goalie from a black assault. In an instant, Cash is all over the opposing end zone, his stick connecting with the loose puck. His thick broad arms extend back, his stick high in the air ready to explode with force and capture the rebound. The second his blade connects with the puck, it pierces through the air and bypasses the goalie.
The sirens go off and flicker throughout the arena. A mad hysteria of cheers echoes into the rafters and all around the rink. Louis’s arms extend in praise and his smile is a mile long. He engulfs his arms around Cash, slamming him up against the glass. When Cash connects with the boards, eight guys in the crowd with B-R-U-I-S-E-R-S painted on their chests pound their fists against the glass and howl like maniacs. A few other teammates on the ice follow, patting Cash on the back and on the top of his helmet.
Vaughn leans over giggling. “Somebody sure likes to show off. I bet that one was for you Quinny.”
One down, two more to go…I think to myself, swallowing hard. Was he actually serious? A hat trick equals dinner? Oh God…
Cash climbs over the boards and locks eyes with me. My heart picks up speed when he smirks at me from behind the bench. The way he makes me feel is seriously overwhelming. Not only is downright sexy, but he is one hell of a hockey player.
“Miss Ashby?” says a young boy wearing a Bruisers jersey from the concrete steps.
“Yes,” Lyndsey and I both reply in sync.
The boy looks confused, and nervously glances over at Cash, whose focus is back on the game.
“I bet you’re looking for Quinn, aren’t you?” Lyndsey asks.
