by Toni Aleo
Rolling his eyes, Jensen went toward the kitchen as Tricksie followed him, trotting excitedly, probably thinking he’d give her a treat. He was going to make her obese with how many treats he gave her, but Vaughn didn’t care. She’d lived in a little cage with nothing. If she wanted a treat, hell, she could have one. As he lined up to shoot, he heard the crinkle of the treat bag before Tricksie barked. He shook his head. Jensen was wrapped around Tricksie’s paw.
Hell, they both were.
“Good girl. You haven’t eaten any more of my shoes, so here’s another one.”
Tricksie let out another cheerful bark just as the doorbell rang. Looking toward the door, Vaughn glanced at Jensen as he pointed to the door. “Are you expecting someone?”
“I know you, the dog, and Wren, and she’s not coming until six. So, no.” Shrugging, Jensen went to the door and opened it. “Shea Fucking Adler! How you doing, buddy?”
“Monroe! How are you?”
As they shook hands and Tricksie went nuts barking, Vaughn went to the door to greet his one-time captain and long-time friend. They had known each other since the minors, and Shea was an all-around great guy. Vaughn would basically do anything for him. For example, help coach a bunch of little girls. That was fun, but still, not an easy feat. Vaughn shook his hand, and they hugged it out as Shea bent down to greet Tricksie.
“Man, she is cute. Your pictures don’t do her justice.”
“Right? She is adorable, I know.”
“Cocky even about his dog,” Shea said, shaking his head before standing up and smacking his hands together. “Get your shoes. I need some help.”
“Huh? What are you doing?”
“I need help with a couch.”
“A couch?” Vaughn asked, sliding his feet into his tennis shoes as Jensen did the same.
“Yeah,” Shea said as they both followed him out. “Brie Soledad was telling Elli she wasn’t sure how she was going to get her couch up into her apartment because it won’t fit in the elevator, and I said I’d come help. I thought it wouldn’t be a problem, the doorman can help or something. But apparently, he’s on restriction from lifting shit, so that brings you two into this. Plus, this couch isn’t cheap, and it’s heavy.”
Hearing Brie’s name, Vaughn stopped, glaring. But Jensen pulled him along, shaking his head to keep him from saying anything. Which was probably the right call. Shea didn’t need to hear his drama, and also, there was the possibility of dropping the couch on her.
He didn’t mean that.
Okay, he did, but he didn’t want to kill her. Maybe just break her toe.
No one needs all their toes.
Well, she would if she wore those naughty red peep toe boots she had…
Rolling his eyes at his pathetic obsession with her, he looked at the ground as they rode the elevator down as Jensen said, “I don’t know why she didn’t hire someone to move her.”
Shea shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t think she has the money,” Vaughn found himself saying, and Jensen looked back at him.
“Don’t be a douche.”
“What? I meant that nicely,” he tried as the doors opened. His eyes landed on Brie, who was standing by a big-ass sofa, her arms crossed over her chest and her little chin up in the air. She didn’t want this, it was written on her face, but then, no one said no to Shea Adler.
Well, except Elli Adler.
And his daughters.
“Nothing you say is ever nice,” Jensen shot back as they got out, and Vaughn’s eyes met Brie’s. Heading toward her, Jensen called out, “Brie, I told you that you could call me to help.”
“I don’t ask for help very well. Elli had to ask Shea,” she admitted with a shrug. “Sorry about this.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, it’s only six floors worth of stairs, but who’s counting?” Vaughn joked.
Brie’s gaze cut to Vaughn’s. “I didn’t ask you to help.”
“Technically, you didn’t ask anyone, but here we all are.”
She glared, and he glared back as Jensen rolled his eyes. “They fight a lot.”
“Are they dating?” Shea asked.
“God, no,” Brie yelled, which made Vaughn scoff.
“She wishes.”
“Please.”
“No, thank you.”
“No? No, thank you, what?”
“No, I won’t date you,” he said calmly, which only made her face turn bright red as the rage settled in her eyes.
“You asshole, I was saying please because I wouldn’t date you if you were the last man on earth and I hadn’t been laid in years!”
Vaughn paused as Jensen shook his head and Shea looked on excitedly. “Well, that’s not nice. How dare you not want to help the world make a comeback? Do you not care for humankind? It would be our job to bring back the human race.”
“No, and I’d probably kill you just to make my point.”
Feigning shock, Vaughn held in his laughter as he accused, “You’re ruthless, Ms. Soledad.”
“You have no idea, JoHo.”
Her eyes narrowed, and the playfulness left his eyes as they burned into hers. He didn’t like how quick she was with her quips, and he sure as hell didn’t like that he was attracted to her at the moment. She looked a mess, her hair up in a sloppy bun, her shirt that read, “Real OG with my sippy cup” on it, and tight jeans. She wasn’t his type. He wasn’t sure how many times he had to tell himself that, but for some reason, he wasn’t listening.
“Well, let’s get this couch up the stairs,” Shea said then, but Brie and Vaughn stayed locked in their heated stare down. “So me and Monroe will get the front, y’all bring up the rear.”
Holding her hand up, she turned her face to Shea. “I don’t want to be near him.”
Mirroring her, Vaughn held his hand up. “She’s weak, I can’t lift with her. She’ll kill me.”
“That’s my plan.”
Cutting a look at her, he glared as she sent him a sneaky little grin that shot heat straight to his balls. With an exaggerated sigh, Shea shook his head. “You two are like my kids. Jesus.”
Jensen nodded. “You have no idea.”
“Okay, but you two are closest in size—”
“She comes up to my cock.”
“Actually, I come up to your chest, you prick.”
“So does my cock when it’s standing at attention.”
Her eyes widened for just a second as Jensen and Shea sputtered with laughter. “Is that with or without your sexual enhancer? I know you’re getting up there in age.”
“Damn,” Jensen muttered, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s get this over with before they murder each other. I’ll bring up the rear with Brie.”
“No, I got this,” Vaughn said then, his eyes still locked on Brie’s. “You’re too tall for her.”
“Actually, I like my men a lot bigger than me.”
“Aren’t they all bigger?”
“Shut up and pick up the couch before I dick-punch you.”
“I don’t know, my wrists might not be able to handle the lift.”
Her expression grew sinister. “Well, maybe you need to stop whacking off all the time.”
He scoffed. “I don’t need to whack off. I have chicks wanting every single piece of me.”
“For the money, right? You pay a lot? Have to, with how small your cock is.”
“Baby, my cock is the size of you. Like, head to toe.”
“You know they say people who have to boast about cock size are usually hung like fish.”
“Fish have dicks?”
“Yeah, isn’t that the long thing that hangs out?” Jensen asked, but Brie shook her head.
“No, that’s the poop.”
Jensen laughed. “Oh, I get what you’re saying.”
She smiled as Vaughn glared. “You’re rude.”
“And you’re a self-righteous prick.”
“At least I’m not a
crybaby brat.”
“Yeah? At least I’m not a showboating, overboasting-about-my-cock playboy.”
“Ha! At least—”
“Oh, my God! Shut up, and come on,” Shea finally yelled, and both of them snapped their mouths shut. When Shea yelled, you couldn’t help but hear it, and as Vaughn looked around to see that everyone was watching, he figured they were done. Chancing a glance at Brie, he saw she had her arms crossed over her chest as she glared. A grin pulled at his lips, but he wouldn’t let himself smile. He wouldn’t let her know he’d truly enjoyed that.
They got into position with only a little bit of grumbling from the two of them as they got the couch up with ease. With three big hockey players, Vaughn wouldn’t expect any less, but what surprised him was that Brie was strong. She carried the couch up the six flights, and while she was winded, she didn’t look as if she would die as he anticipated her to. Placing her side down, she opened her door, and then they moved the couch in and to the spot she had ready for it. Her apartment was empty except for boxes and a few pieces of big furniture. Normal for someone who had just moved in, but he wished it were set up. He wanted to know her. He wanted to see her things, her life, but it was all blank, all a mystery.
Which made sense because he didn’t know much about Brie Soledad.
“Thank you guys so much. I appreciate it.”
Shea wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. “You’re family. Anytime.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling big, and Vaughn found himself looking away so he could breathe. Her smile took up her whole face, her eyes lighting up in an exquisite and breathtaking way. “Thank you, Jensen, and…uh…thank you, Vaughn.”
Jensen smiled as Vaughn laughed. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Soledad.”
Her eyes cut to Vaughn, and she eyed him, but he ignored her, saying good-bye to Shea and then going back to his apartment, shutting the door before falling onto the couch. Tricksie came up to cuddle with him.
“I don’t know why you can’t just get along with her.”
Looking over at Jensen as he moved through the kitchen, Vaughn shrugged. “She pisses me off.”
“She’s smart.”
“She’s got a mouth.”
“And she’s sexy.”
“She thinks she knows it all.”
“She’s funny too. I saw you trying not to laugh.”
“She said my wrister isn’t what it was, and basically that I suck.”
Jensen made a face. “No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that. She’s smart, she knows you’re shooting just to get it in. You’re not worried about how.”
Vaughn shrugged as he cuddled into his dog. He did know that. He knew she wasn’t being a bitch, she was trying to show off, and he could appreciate that. He liked that she wasn’t reading the teleprompter. But what bothered him was that she’d noticed, and he wasn’t sure if she noticed because she observed what he did and cared, or if it was because she hated him and wanted to watch him fail.
Which shouldn’t matter because he hated her.
More than she hated him.
And that was final.
But then, why did he feel this way?
Leaning on the boards, Vaughn watched the puck as the Assassins carried it into the Blackhawks’ zone. The Assassins were up by one but the Hawks were fighting, and they weren’t the kind of team one assumed would roll over and die because they were down. Nope, they fought until they scored and then won, which was why the Assassins were fighting back just as hard. Plus, in hockey, the score could change at any time. No one was safe. They wanted to keep the lead, and if they wanted to win, Vaughn would feel a hell of a lot better if they scored again.
Gasping for breath, he watched as Thomas, Titov, Anderson, and King peppered shots at the goal. Brooks and a Hawk were in the box for roughing, but even being one man short, both teams were rushing the net like they had all five men. Monroe was basically standing on his head and blocking anything that went by. He was such a damn good goalie, way too talented for some backwoods pretty-boy lumberjack, but man, Vaughn was glad Jensen was on his team. While he cheered for his best friend, he did feel like shit for Tate. He was a great goalie, but something was off, and now it was Monroe’s time to shine. Though, Vaughn didn’t think Tate was okay with that.
And that worried Vaughn. He didn’t want Tate to lose his spot, but he wanted Jenny to succeed. He was happier, or at least, as happy as he could be. Vaughn wasn’t sure half the time, but Jenny was better off than he was in Minnesota, that he knew. If only he’d get his head out of his ass and stop obsessing over Wren and maybe ask her out, things would be so much easier. He was honestly getting on Vaughn’s nerves with all that shit. He used Vaughn to call her, to make sure she was okay, and it was annoying as shit. Wren was his friend and he didn’t mind checking in on her, but it killed him when Jensen would get mad because he didn’t ask a certain question. Or rather, the questions that Jensen wanted asked.
When Jensen found out that Wren wasn’t going home to Colorado for Christmas, he was livid because she didn’t want to go over to Gramps and Grams’s to spend it with them. But that was Wren. Vaughn had been living in Nashville for three years, and she had been there for two, and he only saw her at their therapy sessions. Or when they got together with family. She was a private gal, and Vaughn wasn’t worried about it. If she wanted to stay home, let her, but apparently, Jensen didn’t like that and was making him go over to spend some time with her. Though, he was sure she’d kick them out or not even answer the door.
But that was an issue to deal with in a few days. Right now, Vaughn wanted a goal. He wanted it so bad he could taste it. He wanted to shut everyone up. He wanted to prove to himself that he still had it. That he was fucking badass. Above all, he wanted to make Brie Soledad eat her fucking words.
Man, she got under his skin.
Their whole interaction the previous day was still playing over and over like a rerun in his head. He could see the little gleam in her eyes with her quick comebacks and her lips pursing when he said something that irritated the fuck out of her. Then the way she was dressed? Who would think a funny shirt would turn him on so much? Or maybe it was what was underneath it? He knew she was wearing a bra, her breasts all perky and sexy, but the way her jeans hugged her thighs… Damn, he was getting hard just thinking about it.
And getting hard in a cup was very uncomfortable.
Shifting on the bench, he shook his head. He had to stop thinking about her. She wasn’t even on his damn radar. She was nothing to him but a pain in his ass. Someone he had to deal with a lot, so he might as well get used to her. But that was hard when all he wanted to do was bury his dick so deep inside her, it would make her regret every word of malice she had uttered against his cock.
And why was her skirt so damn tight?
Leaning back on the bench, he saw her in the tunnel, watching the game as she held her mic. She was getting ready for a bench interview, but all he could do was stare at the little patch of skin she was showing between the bottom of her long-sleeved blouse and the top of her skirt. He swore he saw a tattoo on her ribs, but he wasn’t staring…
…that hard.
Unlike yesterday, she looked like a billion fucking bucks. Her hair was in wavy curls, coming to the bottom of her chin as her makeup was done dark and smoky. She looked like a whole different girl. Especially in the heels that made her legs look sexier than the game was long. Jesus, how was he supposed to pay attention when she was leaning over like that, her breasts nearly coming out the V of her blouse? Shaking his head, he looked out at the ice and drew in a breath through his nose.
“Um. Are you staring at Brie?”
He looked over at his buddy Phillip Anderson and laughed. “Please, I was wondering where Jet was with the tape.”
“He’s behind us.”
“Yeah, right here.”
“Oh, let me get some tape,” he said quickly, standing to retape his stick, but Coach started yelling.
“Not now, JoJo, go!”
Throwing the tape back to Jet, the new trainer, Vaughn jumped over the boards with Franklin and Willis. They went to set up as Sinclair carried the puck up, passing it to Reeves. Then back to Sinclair the puck went, but Vaughn was moving, going to the blue line to either wait for the pass or follow his defense in. Sending the puck up to Franklin, he cut past a defender and then deked to the right, passing it quickly to Willis. He shot but missed it, the rebound coming back on his stick, at which point he shot again, but it went wide. Following it behind the net, Vaughn got it, pressing his hip into another defender before passing it up the boards to Sinclair before rushing back out in front of the goal. He wanted to screen the goalie, give Sinclair a path to shoot, but it didn’t work. When he shot, it hit Willis instead, and when he tried to shoot, he fanned on the puck.
Willis slapped his stick to it at the same time a defender did, shattering his stick. Dropping it, Willis kicked the puck to Franklin, who quickly passed it to Vaughn. It was like the hockey gods were there, holding the goalie out of the way, because with a wide-open net, Vaughn slowly wristed the puck in.
Goal.
Fucking goal!
Throwing his hands up, he heard his boys yell as the home team’s fans groaned in dismay, minus the handful of Assassins fans that were there. Fist-pumping hard, he was wrapped in a hug as the boys congratulated him. His goal gave them a bit of insurance being two goals up, but really, they didn’t sit back on their heels when they played the Hawks. He knew that and didn’t plan on giving them any room, but man, it felt fucking good to score.
Skating to the bench, he slapped hands with his teammates, and within seconds his eyes locked with Brie’s. “Hey, Brie Fucking Soledad! Did you see that? I scored—with my wrister,” he called to her as he climbed over the bench. A smug little smile spread over her lips. “My wrister did that.”
She shrugged, her eyes bright with laughter. “I thought it was more of a tap in.”
Gasping in utter shock, he held his hands up to the goal. “Tap in? I wristed that!”
“JoJo, sit down!” Coach yelled, but Vaughn was glaring at Brie.
“You’re insane!”
