The Rule Maker (Boston Hawks Hockey #4)

by Gina Azzi

  And if it is, it can’t be my normal. In a few months, I’ll be back to my hockey lifestyle, practices and games and travel. As team captain, I can’t afford to have my attention diverted away from anything that’s not the team. The game. I’ve already experienced firsthand the type of devastation that can occur when a player’s, a captain’s, head isn’t in the game. In a split second, a career can end, a life can change. I can’t handle that type of guilt again; I’m barely handling the pressure now.

  We make it back toward our spot at the bar. James is engaged in conversation with the bartender, Bella, again. I grin at my friend, happy he decided to come out tonight. The past year has been shit for him and it’s good to see him engaging in conversation—as innocent as it is—with a woman in a social setting. I snort when I see last season’s rookie, Sims, chatting up three women with a finesse I didn’t think he possessed. Claire was right, Panda already corrupted Sims. Yeager, most likely one of next season’s starting defensemen now that Torsten’s retired, is passing out another round of drinks.

  He passes one to Chloe and she glances up at me before hesitantly accepting it. A lump swells in my throat. Fuck, did I make her second-guess being here? She shouldn’t walk on eggshells because I’m being moody. Instead of building her up the way I promised Claire I would, my reaction to her chatting with Reiner only added to her insecurities. Shame floods through me and I shift my arm from her shoulder to wrap around her waist instead.

  Chloe didn’t do anything wrong by bumping into Reiner and then being a little starstruck by his presence. I watched the whole thing unfold and saw she wasn’t openly flirting with him.

  And if she was, so what? She’s allowed to flirt…

  The lump grows larger and my stomach knots. Of course she’s allowed to talk to any guy she wants but I don’t fucking like it. I can lie to myself and pretend it’s because I’ve known her forever and want to look out for her. But that’s what it would be. A lie.

  My hand fans out across her hip, my fingertips brushing against the material of her sundress. I dip my head and speak into her ear. “I’m sorry. I just, I worry about you, Chlo.”

  She shifts her weight, tipping her head back to peer up at me. “I really wasn’t expecting it to be him, you know? I’m a big fan of The Burnt Clovers.” She shakes her head. “Abbi is going to flip out when I tell her.”

  I smile at the enthusiasm in her voice, the delight in her expression at meeting a musician she likes easing some of the frustration still buzzing around my head.

  Chloe laughs. “I can’t believe Claire dated him.”

  Yeager lifts his shot glass and our little group follows suit. I clink mine against Chloe’s. “Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

  “I said it already, Aus. I’m happy to be here.” Her tone is sweet and sincere. Just like her and it only makes the lump in my throat grow. Swallowing against it is difficult and I toss back the shot to ease the emotions bubbling up.

  The noise of Taps, an often-welcomed distraction, grows overwhelming. Too loud. The giggling of a dozen females grates on my nerves as Sims, Panda, and Yeager chat them all up. The tequila begins to throb in my temples. Suddenly, all I want to do is get out of here and take Chloe someplace quiet. Someplace where I can enjoy her company. Enjoy her…

  What am I thinking? I glance down at Chlo again, surprised to note that she’s still staring up at me. Her green eyes are wide, watching me with a carefulness I dislike. A delicate pink blossoms in the apples of her cheeks. Her lips are so full and they part the tiniest bit. Fuck, she’s mesmerizing.

  I hate that Easton was right. There’s no chance in hell men won’t clamor for Chloe’s attention, for a ray of her light. She’s breathtaking and intelligent and sincere. Being with her is as natural as breathing and I’m beginning to look forward to our time together more than I’m supposed to.

  This time, Chloe lifts a lime to my lips and I bite into it slowly, my eyes trained on hers. I don’t give a fuck that we’re in the center of Taps, where anyone can see us. I don’t care that Panda is watching me curiously, with a shrewdness that annoys me. I don’t give a shit about anything except Chloe and being with her right now. I bite into the lime and the sour tartness explodes in my mouth. The corner of Chloe’s mouth ticks up, slowly. Almost seductively even though I know that’s not her intent. My skin feels too hot, too tight.

  My head is buzzing with thoughts I don’t want to consider, thoughts I want to act on. Her hand drops away with the lime and I shift closer, my grip on her waist tightening. My fingers brush over her belly button, my hand settling even lower on her stomach. She sucks in a sharp inhale, her eyes darting to mine. I meet them and fall into two green pools, not wanting to blink this moment away.

  Right now, I want to kiss my oldest friend. I want witnesses to see me kiss her. I want Chloe.

  The room spins and it’s got nothing to do with alcohol. I search Chloe’s gaze for a clue about her thoughts. Does she feel this? The chemistry between us, the push and pull and need that seems to grow with every exchange? Does she think about me as much as I think about her?

  If I kissed her right now, would she—

  Panda swoops down, jostling me back half a step as he says something I can’t make out. Chloe’s head swivels toward him and she snorts at whatever he says, amusement rippling over her expression.

  And I snap.

  Knowing I need to get the hell out of Taps before I knock Panda out, and hitting a teammate is never a good look, especially for the team captain, I bend down, wrap my arm around the backs of Chloe’s knees and toss her over my shoulder. She squeals, surprise and delight and the sweetest laughter I’ve ever heard.

  Panda’s eyes widen in surprise but instead of looking pissed, he looks pleased, which only makes me want to deck him more. Yeager lets out a “yeehaw” and James, always quiet and observing, laughs along with Sims.

  I flip my teammates my middle finger which only causes their laughter to swell, rising and cresting like a wave before it breaks over me. I turn on my heel, careful to keep the hem of Chloe’s dress pinned underneath my forearm, and stride toward the door. The crowd parts, people with shocked expressions, wide eyes, and opened mouths, taking us in. Others are laughing and pointing, amused and delighted. A few flashes go off and I know tomorrow, this moment will be on social media accounts across the city, maybe even the country, but I don’t care.

  Right now, I just want to get the hell out of here and I want Chloe by my side.

  She’s banging on my back to let her down, her knees rubbing against my chest. But she doesn’t sound angry, only surprised. And I don’t give a shit either because right now, I just want her in my arms.

  We clear the door and the heavy summer heat hits me. When we’re out of the parking lot and on the street, I shift Chloe and let her slide down my body until her feet are firmly planted on the ground.

  She gapes up at me, her eyes swimming with confusion. She shakes her head, her hands fisting at her sides as she opens and closes her mouth several times, although no words come out.

  Then, she does the only thing that could surprise me more than my own actions. She grips the collar of my shirt and tugs me down. She glares at me for a full breath before pulling me toward her and kissing me with a ferocity that nearly knocks me on my ass.

  Thank God for quick reflexes because I recover. My right hand finds her hip, my left lands in the center of her back, and I pull her closer, until her chest is flush with mine.

  Her grip on my shirt relaxes and her hands slide up over my shoulders, twisting at the back of my neck. Her lips part and my tongue dips inside, meeting with hers. I kiss her back with an intensity that surprises me and as her frustration morphs into want, my need for her skyrockets.

  My hands explore her curves, wanting to touch every inch of her. Her fingers thread through my hair and tug. My mouth trails open-mouthed kisses down her neck as she arches up into me, panting. And Christ, she’s gorgeous. Her eyes are hazy with want and
my fingers ache to slip the delicate straps of her dress clear off her shoulders. Right now, I want her, any way she’ll let me have her.

  My mouth finds hers once more and I kiss her hard before she pulls away.

  She adds two steps of distance between us and glances at me, bewildered. She presses a hand to her chest, the heat of a second ago morphing into a chill I want to melt away.

  I step toward her but she lifts a hand and shakes her head.

  “Chloe,” I say, my voice desperate. Fuck, what was I thinking? I just ruined everything, didn’t I? A friendship, a connection, a—

  “Jesus, Austin,” she breathes out. “I just kissed you.” Her tone holds an accusation that makes me want to smile but I bite it back, knowing it will only anger her.

  “I kissed you back,” I point out.

  “But did you mean it?” she asks directly, a vulnerability I wasn’t prepared for flaring in her eyes.

  I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Of course I fucking meant it. But do I tell her that? How will she react? What will she—

  She swears, disbelief wrapped around the curse word. “Austin, I can’t do this again.”

  My eyebrows pull together as I wait for her to explain herself.

  She steps toward me and places her palms on my chest. She slides them up and brushes them over my shoulders once, shaking her head. When she meets my gaze, her eyes are guarded, her expression uncertain.

  “Chloe—”

  “Figure out what you want, Austin. And when you do, give me a call.” She turns on her heel, walking toward the corner. She pulls her phone from her bag and taps on the screen.

  Panic blazes through me as I walk after her. “Wait. What’s that mean? Where are you going?”

  She chuckles and shoots me a look over her shoulder. After another second, she drops her phone back in her purse and heaves a giant sigh. “It means, you need to decide what you want. Because that”—she points at Taps—“was all mixed signals. I kissed you first but you responded, Austin. That”—she stops walking and spins, jabbing her finger toward the street corner where I just kissed her like my life depended on it—“was only more mixed signals piled on top. I’m beyond confused, Austin. I don’t know what this means.” She gestures between us. “And I don’t know what you want. So, ball’s in your court, big guy.” She tilts her head, an expression I can’t decipher crossing her face. Her eyes soften, a tenderness filling them. “But that was one hell of a kiss.”

  I choke on a laugh, confused and surprised and just wanting her. I reach for her again but she shakes her head as a car pulls up next to the curb. “This is me.”

  “You’re taking an Uber?” I ask, annoyed that she’s going to slip inside some stranger’s car instead of coming home with me so we can…talk about this.

  “It’s a Lyft.” She opens the back door. “I had a great time today, Austin. Really. I just, I can’t be an afterthought again. To anyone.” She slides into the car and pulls the door closed behind her.

  I watch as the car pulls away from the curb, the taillights growing smaller.

  Fuck. I reach up and grip the back of my head. What the hell just happened? What was that kiss? What were all those feelings that exploded in my chest when I held Chloe?

  And who the hell was the confident, sassy woman who just served me with an ultimatum and managed to make me laugh while doing it?

  I grin at the empty street, knowing full well that everything just shifted. Changed.

  And I’m not mad about it. Not at all.

  13

  Chloe

  For two days, I don’t hear from Austin. It’s enough time to make me question everything and eat most of Mimi’s doughnuts. Was I too direct? Did I push him away? Was kissing him a mistake?

  My fingertips travel over my lips. No way. How could anything that felt that good, that…explosive, be a mistake?

  “He’ll call,” Mimi says with certainty I don’t feel. She places another doughnut on my plate.

  “I already had one.”

  “Have another.”

  “Mim.” I tilt my head. “How did you know that Pop was the one?”

  “Oh.” She leans back in her chair. Her eyes take on a faraway look that’s both distant and not as a sparkle glimmers from their depths. “He stood me up.”

  “What?” I ask, leaning forward in my chair. For all the stories I’ve heard about Mimi and Pop over the years, this is new. Pop passed when I was in third grade so my memories of him are few and faded. But I do remember how he doted on Mimi.

  “Can you believe that?” She turns toward me, smiling. “My big brother Andrew wanted to beat him to a pulp.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well…” She picks up her mug, drawing her story out for dramatic effect. It works because I forget about the doughnut on my plate. She takes a sip of her coffee and sets the mug back down. “Turns out, he’d been in an accident.”

  I gasp.

  Mimi nods, her face serious. “Yep. His father had a farm, you know?”

  I nod.

  “And that night, one of their goats, Lucky Lucy, gave birth. It all happened suddenly and your pop was needed to lend a hand. He’d been raised on a farm for crying out loud but when Lucy began to rock around, Pop slipped on a patch of mud or wet grass or something and he went down.” Mimi pauses to chuckle, wiping a napkin across her eyes.

  I smile at her, wondering if her tears are from laughter, nostalgia, or a mixture of both.

  “Oh, he went down and knocked his head on the corner of a shelf in the barn. Passed out cold.”

  “No.”

  Mimi snorts. “Oh yes, had an egg the size of the moon on his noggin.”

  I laugh and Mimi’s eyes crinkle as she smiles. “What happened?”

  “Well, you can imagine his family ribbed him good for that one. Called him all sorts of names for passing out at the sight of new life being brought into the world. You can’t begin to guess at the jokes that circulated when I was pregnant with your mother.”

  “Oh, I can,” I say, recalling some of my family’s more creative jokes that I’ve heard over the years.

  Mimi waves a hand. “Anyway, later that night, Pop showed up on my father’s front porch with a sad-looking bunch of flowers and a bruise on his forehead. After we heard his sob story, we all had a good laugh and my brother decided he shouldn’t kick a dog when it’s down.”

  I sputter on my coffee.

  “Besides, I told Andrew that night, ‘I’m going to marry that man one day.’ And I did.”

  “But how’d you know?” I press for an answer. As much as I enjoy Mimi’s stories, they often lack the wisdom I’m searching for.

  “It was the look in his eyes when he knocked on the door. Oh, he was embarrassed for sure. He felt guilty. Silly. All sorts of emotions. But when he saw me, that look, all those insecurities, they just disappeared. He looked at me, in my house coat with rollers in my hair—can you imagine?—like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Even more beautiful than witnessing life come into the world.” Mimi’s tone turns wistful. “And I just… I knew.”

  “When you know, you know,” I mumble.

  “That’s what they say,” she agrees.

  I sigh and take a big bite of my doughnut.

  “Didn’t help you, did I?” she asks.

  I shake my head and Mimi laughs.

  My phone rings and Mimi’s eyes light up. “It’s him,” she says.

  I swipe up my phone, my heart hammering in my chest. Austin’s name flashes on the screen. Whatever Mimi reads in my expression confirms her lucky guess because she clucks her tongue. “Told ya so.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, feigning casual when I really feel like dancing around Mimi’s kitchen. Turning away from her sharp eyes for a modicum of privacy—yeah, right—I answer the call.

  “Hey,” I say slowly.

  “Chlo.” Austin’s voice is gruff, laced with a hint of surprise. Did he think I wouldn’t answer?

>   “It’s me.”

  He breathes out a shaky exhale and I can picture him running his hand over the top of his head the way he does when he’s nervous, feeling out of his element. “I meant it.”

  I remain silent but my fingers grip my phone until my knuckles ache.

  “I wanted to kiss you,” Austin continues. “I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment I opened my parents’ front door and saw you standing on the porch. But I don’t know how to do this. With you.”

  Now I breathe out a shaky breath. Questions ping around my mind but I hold them all back, knowing that Austin needs time to sort out what he’s trying to say. If I interrupt him now, I may miss out on hearing what he’s trying to tell me.

  “I like you, Chloe. I’ve always liked you but I really like being with you. You’re not just some random girl I can hook up with and forget about.”

  My heart gallops in my chest, so loud and frantic, I bet even Mimi can hear it without her hearing aid.

  “But I also can’t be all in the way you want, the way you need. The season’s starting up and my first priority is the team, the game.” His voice cracks and he swears. “I’m not letting a kiss, even if it was hot and made me think of a million things I shouldn’t think about doing with you, ruin our friendship. You’re stuck with me, Sunshine. But I don’t know where we go from here.”

  Little bubbles of nerves pop in my stomach. Because Austin definitely just tossed the ball back into my court. I bite my bottom lip and lean back in the chair.

  Mimi waves her arm beside me, grabbing my attention. I glance at her, raising my eyebrows. She points to the doughnut.

  What am I supposed to do with that?

  What? I mouth.

  She moves the doughnut to the side of the plate and taps her fingernail against the center of the plate. An image of a wedding dress and tuxedo are stamped into the ceramic and I roll my eyes.