Thwapthwapthwapthwap.
Over and over. One. Two. Three. The rhythm increased, the sound a growing staccato, blending into one continuous chorus.
Thwathwathwathwa…thwap.
He lost sight of one ball, moved his gaze to find it, winced when another bounced off the concrete wall and flew toward his face. Concentration shattered, he darted out of the way, only to be caught in the chest by the second ball. He dodged again as the third ball shot past him, bouncing out of reach.
“Fuck.”
Tyler bent over, hands braced on his knees as he sucked in several deep breaths. Sweat dripped from his face; he grabbed his shirt, using the hem to wipe away the sweat, then straightened with a growl of frustration.
“What happened?”
Tyler clenched his jaw and turned to look at the man lounging against the wall several feet away. Tall, dark hair with a hint of gray just showing at the temples. Brown eyes studied him, cool and detached, void of all emotion.
Tyler turned his back on the man and made his way over to the gear bag resting against the far wall. He reached in and pulled out a water bottle, uncapped it and took a long swallow. Kolchak’s gaze watched him the entire time; Tyler could feel it, a burning sensation in the middle of his back.
Scrutinizing. Studying. Judging.
Just like he’d been doing for the last two weeks.
Fuck.
Tyler recapped the bottle and tossed it toward the bag then turned to face the older man. He didn’t need Kolchak standing there, examining his every move. Judging him. Finding him lacking. Didn’t need it, didn’t want it.
“What happened?” The other man repeated the question, his voice flat and quiet in the small room. Tyler flinched then forced himself to shrug, searching for a nonchalance he didn’t feel.
“Nothing. Just lost track, that’s all.”
“Not buying it.” Kolchak studied him for a few long seconds then pushed away from the wall, his gait off just the tiniest bit as he moved toward Tyler’s gear bag. He reached down, digging through the bag before Tyler had a chance to react. Tyler jerked back, his hand automatically coming up to catch the phone that Kolchak tossed in his direction.
“Put it on silent. And I mean silent. Not vibrate. You were fine until it went off.”
Tyler didn’t say anything. He couldn’t, not when the other man was right. The sound hadn’t been loud, certainly not loud enough to hear. Except he had, and the slight vibration coming from his bag had been enough to distract him.
But if he was honest, it wasn’t just the vibrating of his phone that had distracted him. He’d been distracted because he’d been waiting for it, listening for it—because Jenny was supposed to text him. She had been called for a second interview for one of the jobs she had applied for and was going to let him know how it went.
But it wasn’t just that—no, it was a lot more. Thoughts of Jenny led to memories, heated memories that thickened his blood and turned it to lava as it raced through his body.
Jenny’s body, warm and naked, spread underneath his own body as he drove his cock deep inside her.
Jenny’s mouth, hot and wet, wrapped around his cock. Sucking, teasing, swallowing.
Jenny’s hair, soft as silk, the ends teasing his flesh as their limbs tangled together.
Jenny’s tattoo, a tiny little heart placed low by the crease of her leg, the arrow piercing it pointing the way to heaven.
Tyler gave himself a mental shake and quickly shifted positions, cursing himself for letting thoughts of Jenny getting him worked up. Distracted? Yeah, definitely. But damn if he’d let Kolchak know.
Except the other man already knew. Tyler saw it in his eyes and the set of his jaw as soon as he looked over and noticed Kolchak watching him.
Seeing too damn much.
“Go ahead. Answer it. Then we can get back to doing what you’re supposed to be doing.”
Tyler’s hand tightened around the phone as anger swept through him. “I know what I’m doing. I don’t you need to fucking babysit me.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it? That’s all you’ve been doing for two weeks.”
Kolchak shrugged, his mouth curling up in a mockery of a grin. “Just giving you some pointers.”
“I don’t need them.”
“Don’t you?” Kolchak leaned against the wall again and propped one foot on the concrete behind him. He jammed his hands into the front pockets of the khaki trousers, the dark blue performance polo pulling tight across his shoulders with the movement. Tyler’s gaze dropped to the embroidered emblem on the front: a ferocious eagle, with a pair of hockey sticks crossed behind its spread wings. And underneath, embroidered in bold letters, were the words Baltimore Banners.
Anger swept through Tyler once more. Misplaced, unwanted. He looked away, a muscle working in his clenched jaw as he repeated his earlier words. “I don’t need your help.”
Silence settled around them, heavy and tense. He expected the other man to say something sarcastic or biting. Or to walk away. He didn’t expect the bark of laughter.
“Man, you are really one pissed off fucker, aren’t you?”
Tyler’s head snapped around in surprise—and anger. Was he really that transparent? Was his anger still that obvious? He hadn’t thought so, had thought he’d done a better job of hiding it, especially the last two weeks. Being with Jenny helped. He didn’t worry so much about his failures when he was with her. Didn’t worry so much about following the rules or what everyone else thought. What had started as a playful distraction had turned to something more the last couple of weeks. He didn’t feel like he was second-best when he was with her.
His only worry when he was with Jenny was if her brother would find out.
But Jason was still oblivious, so wrapped up in his own budding relationship with Megan that he didn’t notice anything else. Not that he would, because Jason didn’t notice things, period.
Apparently, Kolchak did.
That didn’t mean Tyler was ready to admit it. Yeah, he was pissed. And he knew he should be over it by now. The anger, the jealousy, the pity. Normal. Natural. He didn’t want to feel them, didn’t want them screwing with his head and fucking with his game.
He thought he’d mastered them, thought he had pushed them away. Buried them. But not enough, not if Kolchak was standing there with that biting grin, laughing at him.
“What? You surprised I can tell?”
Tyler grunted, not sure how to answer. Surprised? Maybe. Or maybe the man was some kind of fucking ninja mind reader. Who the hell knew?
“I get being pissed. You’re not feeling anything that hundreds before you haven’t felt. Hell, I’ve been dealing with my own share of being pissed off, too.”
“You? Why?” Tyler wanted to take the question back as soon as it fell from his mouth. His gaze dropped to Kolchak’s knee then darted back up, expecting to see anger coloring the man’s face. But he just stood there, watching Tyler, one brow raised in silent question. Mocking him, questioning his skills of reasoning.
Tyler looked away, his face heating in embarrassment. “Oh. Right.”
Another laugh, short and humorless. “Yeah. Oh. Trust me, standing here trying to help a sniveling ass improve his game when he doesn’t want to listen isn’t helping my mood any.”
“Sniveling?”
“Just calling it like I see it.”
Tyler’s mouth snapped shut, his mind blanking on any retort. Sniveling? Maybe he’d been off since getting the news that Corbin was staying in Baltimore, but he didn’t think he’d been sniveling. Sniveling was something a two-year-old did when they threw a temper tantrum. Sniveling was what someone did when they didn’t get their way. He sure as hell wasn’t crying or whining.
He turned back around and faced the older man again, scowling. “Pissed, yeah. Maybe. But not sniveling.”
A quick grin flashed across Kolchak’s face, there and gone in the space of a heartbeat. “Y
ou don’t like that word, huh?”
“Not really, no.”
“Yeah, well—get over it. It happens to be the word of the week around my place right now.”
Tyler frowned. What the hell was the man talking about? He opened his mouth, ready to ask, then snapped it shut and shook his head as the other man started talking again.
“I get being pissed. The trick is to refine your focus so you push it away. To empty your mind of everything but the game. You need to be mentally sharp—sharper than you have been. Bryan thought I could help you with that.”
“I—” Tyler stopped, shook his head again. What was he going to say? That he thought he had been doing just that? Except he hadn’t. Yeah, things had slowly been getting better but even he knew he could still improve.
He sucked in a deep breath, held it as he tried to force away his anger and impatience. Kolchak was only trying to help. And the fact that Coach Torresi had asked him to work more closely with Tyler had to mean something. That was a good thing, right? Yeah, it had to be.
So maybe Tyler needed to just suck it up, get over it, and stop being such an ass.
He cleared his throat, shot a quick glance in Kolchak’s direction, looked away. “I, uh—sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Yeah, I know. No big deal.”
Tyler nodded, his face still too warm. He let out another deep breath then faced the other man once more. “What’s it like? I mean, knowing you’ll never—shit. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. None of my business.”
Kolchak watched him for a long minute, that odd grin still in place. Then he uttered a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh and shrugged. “Honestly? It fucking sucks. But sometimes you don’t get a choice, you know?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess not.”
Kolchak pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them. He clapped Tyler on the shoulder then nodded at the phone still grasped in Tyler’s hand. “Call your girlfriend. Do whatever you got to do. Then go home and rest up for tonight’s game. We’ll work more when you get back.”
“Girlfriend? What the fuck? You know something we don’t?”
Tyler spun around, groaning when he saw Jason, Zach and Travis push into the room. He jammed the phone into the pocket of his shorts and snuck a glance at Kolchak. The other man had stepped back, his hands up in mock surrender, his mouth curled in a wide smile.
“Don’t look at me. I’m just taking wild guesses.” He lowered his hands then looked over at Tyler. “I’ll see you before the game.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Tyler watched as he left the room, then quickly turned his back on his teammates, hoping they’d launch into another subject. No such luck.
Jason moved closer, nudged him in the side with an elbow. “Come on, Bowie. Fess up. Who is she?”
“Nobody. I’m not talking about it.” Fuck. Was his face heating? Yeah, probably.
Zach came up on his other side, crowding him. “You know we’re going to find out eventually. You might as well just tell us now.”
“Nothing to tell. Really.”
Jason snorted then leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Have her come to the game tonight. She can sit with Jenny and Megan.”
Tyler’s breath caught in his throat, choking him. He coughed several times, his heart beating too fast in his chest. Then he shook his head, deliberately looking away from Jason. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—”
“Just bring her. It’ll be fun.”
“No. I, uh, I think she’s busy—”
“Then have her meet us at Mystic’s for the celebration.”
“Uh, celebration?”
“Yeah.” Jason nudged him again, a bright smile on his face. “Jenny finally got a fucking job. She just called me.”
“Oh.” Disappointment swept over Tyler. He should have checked the text message when he had the chance, should have been there to share the news with Jenny first. “That’s good news, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Jason frowned and pulled his own phone out, glancing down at it. “No idea why she’s so excited, though. It’s just a job at some stupid store. But it’s something, at least. I mean, she won’t be hanging around my place, getting in the way. Or disappearing all hours of the night to be with her friends.”
“Wow. You’re such an ass, Emory.”
Jason turned a frown on Tyler. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Getting in your way? Real nice. Real brotherly.” Tyler reached for his bag and swung it over his shoulder, refusing to even look at Jason. “Besides, I thought a job working retail was what she really wanted.”
Tyler froze, his heart lodging in his chest. Zach watched him, his head cocked to the side, a frown on his face. Travis was glancing back and forth, watching all three of them. And Jason was just staring at Tyler, his face wreathed in an expression of pure confusion.
“How would you know that?”
“Uh…not sure. Maybe you said something.”
“Don’t think I did.”
“Well, you must have. How else would I know?”
Jason’s frown deepened for a second, then just as quickly cleared when he shook his head and smiled. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Back to your mystery girl—have her meet us at Mystic’s.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I do. Really. You should bring her.”
“Yeah, Bowie. Bring her.”
Something in Zach’s voice made him turn. His teammate was watching him, his dark eyes glinting with suspicion, a knowing look on his face. Fuck. No. No way. Zach couldn’t know. Maybe he was taking a wild guess—a dangerously accurate guess—but there was no way he could know.
Tyler shifted his weight from one foot to the other and did his best not to look guilty. He adjusted his grip on the bag’s handle and forced a smile to his face. “Okay, sure. I’ll, uh, I’ll ask her. Have her meet us there. No problem.”
“Excellent.” Jason clapped his hands together then headed toward the door. He paused, waiting for everyone else to catch up.
Tyler took one step, stumbled to a stop when Zach grabbed his arm. His voice was pitched low enough that he couldn’t be overheard. “Yeah, Bowie. Excellent. Can’t wait to meet the mystery woman. Except something tells me I already have.”
Tyler yanked his arm from Zach’s grip and stepped back. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Yeah?” Zach leaned closer, too close. “I hope to hell you’re right.”
Chapter Thirteen
She had never been quite as uncomfortable at a hockey game as she was at this one was.
Which was ridiculous. It made absolutely no sense at all. Jenny normally loved watching the games. The fast pace. The intensity. The hard-hitting grit and heart the players brought to the ice every single shift.
Tonight should have been even more exciting. A time for celebration. The Bombers were leading by two points. She had a prime seat right on the glass. Her brother was playing hard, aggressive, digging in the corners and battling for the puck each time he was on the ice. Tyler was playing well, blocking most of the other team’s shots, his limber body bending and contorting in ways that made her mouth water as she squirmed in the seat, thinking of all the other ways his limber body moved.
And she finally got the job offer she wanted. She’d be starting as the new assistant manager at one of the clothing stores in the mall on Monday. Life was good. Better than good. So yeah, she should be excited and celebrating, sitting on the edge of her seat, laughing and cheering and banging the glass every time play came near them.
Except she wasn’t.
She was sitting with Megan and her friend, Haley—an outgoing redhead who cheered as loudly as she booed, and who couldn’t seem to stop talking about Zach. One minute she was busy ogling him or talking about his tattoos. The next, she was ranting about how rude and obnoxious he was. Jenny couldn’t be sure, but there seemed to be a definite love-hate relationship brewing there.
<
br /> Or maybe she was just reading into things. Maybe it was just a hate-hate relationship because she could have sworn she heard Megan mention something about Haley’s boyfriend. Or maybe it was an ex-boyfriend. Whoever he was, he seemed to be a real piece of work from what she’d been able to glean from the whispered bits of hissed conversation.
And then there was Megan herself, who looked almost as uncomfortable as Jenny felt. She didn’t seem to know much about the game, which was fine by Jenny—not everyone did. If not for being around it all her life because of Jason, she wouldn’t know much about it, either. Megan would learn, eventually, if she and Jason stuck together. From the dreamy, almost distracted look in her eyes whenever her gaze followed Jason on the ice, Jenny was fairly certain the couple would be together for quite a long time.
Good. For as big a pain in her ass as he could be, she wanted Jason to be happy.
But she still felt uncomfortable, like an outsider. The other two women would occasionally talk about the different players, laughing about how this one did that or how so-and-so acted at Megan’s bar. They looked at her, expectant smiles on their faces, waiting for her to contribute her own stories. But she couldn’t, because she didn’t really know the other players, hadn’t spent any time around any of them.
Except for Tyler. And she couldn’t say a word about it, couldn’t talk about him at all. Not even when Megan had noticed her watching Tyler in the net and playfully teased her about how attractive he was, telling her how nice he’d always been.
Jenny had come so close to saying something. Or rather, a few somethings, not all of them exactly G-rated. She bit the words back each time, knowing whatever she said would be questioned, that the other two women would ask how she knew.
And then there would be hell to pay because Jenny knew whatever she said would get back to Jason. And then he would start asking questions—questions she had no intentions of answering.
So she’d spent the better part of the last two periods biting her tongue and saying nothing unless the two women specifically asked her about some nuance of the game—which probably made the other two women think she was unsociable.
Playing For Keeps: A York Bombers Hockey Romance (The York Bombers Book 3) Page 10
