Rookie (Seattle Sharks Book 4)

by Samantha Whiskey

  If my brain was dead-set on transporting me back in time, I figured it’d be better to do it drunk.

  I didn’t have anywhere else to be tonight anyway.

  Scooping my re-filled glass off the counter, I kicked off my heels and padded barefoot over to the lone couch I had in the living space. I sank down on it with a heavy sigh.

  Ten years.

  I thought I’d grown.

  Lived.

  Experienced enough that he wouldn’t have this effect on me.

  Stupid, stupid woman.

  Bentley had claimed my heart when I was young, and no amount of time could erase him from my soul.

  But now my heart was ripped open again, bleeding and begging.

  For what, I wasn’t sure.

  Whatever it was, I had to suck it up.

  This job . . . I needed it on a level I’d never needed anything before.

  I couldn’t let Bentley’s presence rob me of it.

  He’d moved on long ago.

  The media coverage on his career had told me as much.

  I couldn’t let this ache in my heart stop me from owning what I’d earned—which was the contract I needed to save me.

  “Have you packed yet?” I asked, staring at Bentley like he was a stranger even though he was anything but. We’d known each other since grade school. He’d been my best friend until our love had turned into something more.

  Something deeper.

  And now . . . he was leaving.

  “Come with me,” he said, his hand on the tree—our tree. The place where we came to be alone.

  To explore each other.

  To tease and touch and love.

  “What?” I gasped, eyes flying wide. My heart breaking because I knew I couldn’t. “I can’t.”

  He stepped closer, his fingers in my hair.

  “Sure you can,” he said, that smile so lazy and open and free.

  The Bentley I’d always loved.

  Confident and certain and full of hope.

  Chasing his dreams with a ferocity that matched his strength.

  “We can get a little apartment with a king size bed,” he continued. “I’ll stock the fridge with those green teas you love so much, and you can come to the games and—”

  “I can’t,” I snapped.

  The picture he painted was so damn perfect, I hated that I couldn’t have it. The thought alone tore my insides.

  I wasn’t angry with him.

  I was mad at myself.

  For not telling him.

  I’d never kept a secret from him in my life.

  But this one . . . he’d stay if he knew.

  He’d want to help me.

  Be there for me.

  He’d give up his future in a snap—that much I knew.

  “Why?”

  “You know why,” I said, trying to sell the lie. “I have to go to college. My parents—”

  “There are colleges everywhere. How do you think I got my scholarship? I’ll be playing for one.”

  “And I’m so proud of you,” I said, my hand on his cheek.

  He was so damn tall. I looked up, tears coating my eyes.

  “Come with me, Chloe.” There was a desperation in his voice. One that broke my heart to pieces.

  “You knew my plan. You knew I was always going to stay here.”

  Believe me. Believe the lie. You deserve your dream life even though mine was ripped from me in a matter of seconds.

  “I can’t help that the local school doesn’t have a hockey team, Chlo.”

  “I know,” I said. “I know you can’t stay.”

  “Come. With. Me.”

  “I can’t.” The truth was on the tip of my tongue, begging to be freed. I hated lying to him. It left a horrible taste in my mouth and turned my stomach to ash.

  “You mean you won’t.”

  “That’s not fair.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. This wasn’t about him. It was about her. Everything—since the news—was always about her.

  Guilt gnawed at my insides.

  I couldn’t blame this on her.

  She needed me.

  “I can’t be selfish,” I said, though I knew he wouldn’t understand what I meant.

  He wrapped me in his arms, my wet cheeks against his chest.

  “Oh, Chloe,” he said, his chin on my hair. “You could never be selfish.”

  I wanted to be. Part of me wanted to go with him and never look back.

  Part of me wanted to tell him the truth and allow him to shoulder some of the weight.

  But he deserved better.

  He was destined for bigger and better things.

  “Fine. You can’t come with me, then we’ll talk every day,” he said, a new energy buzzing through him. “And I’ll visit as often as I can. We’ll make it work until you graduate college.” He held me back enough to meet my eyes.

  His shoulders dropped.

  He saw right through me.

  “Won’t we?”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re going to be doing so many amazing things, Bent. Meeting new people.” The words blistered my soul. “You can’t waste time checking in on me. Worrying about me.”

  “It’s not a waste—”

  “I love you, Bent.” I placed my palm on his chest. “But I’m stuck here. You’re not. And I won’t let you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You’re free.”

  “I don’t want to be free. I want to be with you. In whatever way I can.” He laid his hand over my fingers, holding it against his chest, the thump thump thump of his heart in sync with mine. “You feel that?” he asked. “What have I always told you?”

  “That your heart beats for mine,” I said.

  “Exactly.”

  I wetted my lips, tasting the salt from my tears.

  “I can’t, Bent. I can’t ask that of you.” I couldn’t breathe. “There is too much . . .” Every inch of my body stung. “I can’t . . . be there for you. In the way that you need me.”

  I’d be thousands of miles away. How could I ask him to wait for me when I never knew if I’d be free?

  “Chloe,” he said my name like a plea.

  “Just go, Bent. Okay?” I stepped out of his embrace, unable to bear another second under his touch. It seared me, called to me, begged me to stop the words from my mouth. Pleaded with me to tell him the truth.

  But there was no way.

  He’d find a way to stay with me.

  And he deserved better.

  “You won’t even try.” The pain laced in his words sliced into me as he voiced what my heart kept screaming.

  “You deserve the whole damn world, Bent. I’m just not the girl who can give it to you.”

  “Chloe.” Bentley shook his head, that muscle in his jaw ticking as he held back tears.

  Selfishly, I breeched the distance and crushed my lips on his.

  Needing one last piece of him.

  One for me to keep while he flew free.

  He met my tongue, rubbing and dancing, sucking and teasing. A hunger like I’d never felt. Need swelled inside me, so tight and hot I thought it’d swallow me whole.

  I jerked free, holding back a sob as I said, “Goodbye, Bentley.”

  Turning my back on him, I didn’t once glance behind me as I fled to my car, knowing if I stayed there one second longer I’d lose my head and ruin him with the truth.

  Fresh tears rolled down my face as I finished my whiskey.

  We’d both grown up.

  Gone on to do what we were born to do.

  But he’d soared.

  He’d caught the dream he always wanted—playing hockey at the NHL level.

  And in some ways, I was still that seventeen-year old girl, her heart breaking because she had responsibilities that were greater than she knew how to handle.

  Even now, ten years later, it sometimes felt like too much.

  Bentley didn’t have a clue who I was anymore.

  What I went t
hrough.

  But one look in those dark eyes today and I was right back in his arms, feeling his kiss, smelling his skin on mine.

  Damn him.

  No one got under my skin as much as he did.

  And now I’d have to see him almost every single day.

  Heat flashed in my core, the memory of him in nothing but a towel vibrating through me.

  It had been so long since I’d felt that . . . umph.

  I poured myself another drink, wishing it had the effect of a cold shower.

  Day one of the official season hadn’t even started, and I was already terrified simply watching Bentley would melt the ice.

  Chapter 3

  Bentley

  “You made it!” Gage’s little girl, Lettie, greeted me with a ferocious hug around my leg. I scooped her up, situating her on my side.

  “Couldn’t miss my favorite girl’s barbecue,” I said, grinning down at her.

  “Flip me, flip me!”

  I scanned Gage’s backyard, spotting him behind the grill, wrapped up in a convo with Rory.

  “One time,” I said, opting for my best and most serious tone.

  She nodded enthusiastically, agreeing to the terms . . . for now.

  “One,” I said, hefting her up before sinking her back to the ground. “Two.” Another lift and drop. “Three!” I gave her a little toss before catching her and spinning her upside down, stopping her little body just before it touched the ground.

  She giggled, and I tickled her under her neck before hauling her upright.

  “Again!”

  “Not a chance,” I said. “Once is more than enough.”

  She pursed that lower lip but the laughter didn’t leave her eyes.

  “Fine,” I said, sighing. “One more time. That’s it.”

  She clapped before we did our signature flip move again.

  And then one more time.

  Finally, I faked being tired and in need of rest and set her on her feet. She raced around the backyard, dashing to play with the other kids who’d been invited from her school. Sometimes it was hard as hell to believe Gage had a six-year-old and an eighteen-month-old—Ethan toddling around the swing-set under Bailey’s attentive gaze.

  To say Lettie had me wrapped around her finger was an understatement, but I wasn’t alone.

  Gage, Rory, and Warren were all useless against that girl’s smile, her laugh. We’d become instant friends the first time Gage invited me over a year ago. I’d talked to her most of the night, more than I even talked to the guys. She’d made me an honorary princess at her tea-party before we’d switched to being amazon warriors fighting off deranged gorillas. The guys had given me hell over it, but in all honesty, I think it was the determining factor on Gage’s olive branch.

  Lettie approved, so he did.

  “Hey, Rookie,” Gage said as I approached the grill.

  “Something smells good, Grinder,” I fired back.

  His, Rory’s, and Warren’s heads all snapped to mine.

  I groaned, gesturing to him. “You’re the one who always calls me rookie,” I said. “Why can’t I call you by your position?”

  Rory shook his head, tsking me. “Because we’ve earned those spots.”

  “And all you’ve earned is rookie, Rookie,” Warren added but he was smirking.

  “That’s not fair,” Gage said, flipping a brat on the grill. “He’s stepped it up. I would have no worries about him taking over my spot if I decided to retire.”

  My eyebrows raised as I gaped at him.

  “Dry your panties, Rookie.” He pointed his tongs at me. “I didn’t say I was retiring.”

  My shoulders dropped but I laughed it off.

  I didn’t want him to retire, not really.

  But I wouldn’t say no to the extra ice time if he did.

  “Lettie know you’re here?” he asked, tending to the burger patties on the other side of the grill.

  “Spotted me the second I walked in.”

  “That girl,” he said, a wistful smile on his face.

  “I think she has a crush on him,” Rory said, nudging Gage.

  Gage’s eyes cut to mine, his jaw locked, eyebrow cocked.

  “No, she doesn’t, dick,” I snapped at Rory. “I’m younger than you old men. I can throw her in the air and chase her longer than you can.”

  “You may be younger but you sure as shit don’t have my stamina,” Rory argued.

  I furrowed my brow. “You can never prove that.”

  “Both of you can’t match up to me,” Warren said, taking a long tug from the beer in his hand.

  “Fuck all of you,” Gage said. “She doesn’t have a crush. And don’t talk about stamina when I have a backyard full of kids.”

  “Stamina?” Bailey called out as she approached us from behind.

  Each of us flinched like we’d gotten caught stealing.

  She had Ethan on her hip and somehow managed to look graceful and stunning in a pair of yoga pants and soft cotton T. “You four wouldn’t be comparing, would you? Because,” she said, smirking as she planted a kiss on Gage’s cheek, “you do realize that Nine and Paige are my absolute best friends.”

  Warren, Rory, and Gage went stark still.

  “So, I do know who has the most . . . stamina.”

  A laugh burst from my lips at the way she teased them. I reached over and gave her a fist bump. She returned it before flashing a seductive smile at Gage.

  “Guess we’ll have to wait for your girl to find out once and for all,” Rory said, nodding to me.

  “I don’t have a girl.” The words came fast and clear and sharp. Enough for Bailey’s smile to drop and for her to study me with a little more depth. I shrugged off the inspection. “Haven’t in a long time.”

  “Well,” she said, bringing the light teasing back to her tone. “We’ll just keep it to the trio then. Until the time comes.” She winked at me before heading off to chase Lettie with her baby brother.

  Warren whistled and a shudder ran over Rory.

  “That was scary for a second,” Rory said.

  “Damn them,” Warren said. “Sometimes the amount of intel those women exchange terrifies me.”

  “Ha!” Gage snorted. “You’re one to fucking talk.” He pointed at his chest with his empty tongs. “I’m the one who had to have a play-by-play on each of your relationships—from both sides.”

  “Poor Gage,” Rory said, fake-whining. “Not like we weren’t front row and center when you fell for the nanny.”

  Gage cocked an eyebrow at him. “I will end you.”

  “Bring it,” Rory said, dancing on his feet without spilling a drop of his beer. “I haven’t been in a good fight for ages.” He motioned his head to me. “Especially not since this one learned to keep his mouth shut.”

  “Ha, ha,” I said, rolling my eyes. “If you need a good beat down,”—I raised my arms—“I’m fully prepared to give you one.”

  “That right?” He handed Warren his beer.

  “Yup.” There was nothing but laughter among us as he stepped around the grill, stopping within an inch of my space.

  We were eye to eye, both of us jacked, but my muscles were slightly bigger where his were more lithe. Perks of living at the gym while these guys had other things to do—like be with their families.

  Something cold prickled in my gut.

  A dream from a lifetime ago—one with a houseful of dogs and babies and Chloe on the ice with me. Teaching our kids how to skate. Family barbecues like this one.

  The force of a hammer barreled into my gut, knocking the long-lost dream free from my skull as I hit the grass.

  Rory’s shoulder—fucker hit like a truck.

  “All talk, Rookie,” he laughed, pinning me to the grass.

  “Not likely,” I said, my arm darting up in a flash to hook around his neck. I jerked him to the right, my forearm bulging under his chin as I gained the upper hand, rolling to my knees for better leverage.

  Rory smacked
at my hold before he got his feet under him and fucking stood up, flipping me back to the ground with a hard thwack. Air whooshed out of my lungs from the force.

  “Uncle Rory,” Lettie chided from a few feet away. “Leave my Rookie alone.”

  Fuck, she was just like her dad.

  Couldn’t be mad at her though. It was impossible.

  “We’re just playing, sweetie,” Rory said as I wiggled out from under his weight and kicked his feet out from underneath him.

  “Rookie!” Lettie said as I fell on top of his chest with my elbow.

  Rory groaned but wrapped his fucking legs around me, jerking me to the ground in a grip I couldn’t shake. “Tap out, Rook.”

  “Never,” I growled, unable to stop the laugh as Lettie rolled her eyes and stomped off—that was all Bailey.

  I elbowed him in the ribs again, but he held firm.

  “Surrender!” Rory was enjoying this too much.

  I couldn’t let him win.

  I had to go for his weakest spot.

  “Never,” I said again, and reached up to grab a fistful of his blond hair.

  He hissed. “Not the hair, man.”

  “Is that normal?” Chloe’s voice cut through our grunts and laughter as if she’d spoken through a personal speaker in my ear.

  I craned my head—which was way too close to Rory’s chest, as he hadn’t let go of me and I hadn’t let go of him—and there she was.

  Chloe.

  Looking sexy as hell in a pair of skinny jeans and white flowy top, holding some kind of wrapped platter. Her eyes wide and confused as she glanced from Bailey back to us—Rory’s legs wrapped around me in a wrestling match that went a few clicks beyond awkward.

  Fucking hell.

  I let go of his hair, and he unlatched his legs from around my abdomen, and we both scrambled to our feet.

  One light punch to my gut had me cringing for a split second. “That’s for the hair, Rookie,” Rory said, eyeing me as he walked back over to Gage and Warren who had shit-eating grins on their faces.

  Dicks.

  “Next time, old man!” I shouted.

  “Next time you two should do it shirtless,” Paige hollered, and Rory gaped at her from where she sat at the patio table with Jeannine. Daphne bounced on Paige’s knee, while Katherine slept soundly again Nine’s chest, still so tiny at only two months old.