Kaufman: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 2)

by Nicole Edwards

  I need to be focusing on myself, on enjoying what I do have, on building myself back up. I’ve landed a fantastic job, and I’ve got a cute little house that I’ll have the chance to fix up in the near future. Those are the only things I should be worrying about.

  Although most people don’t know it, the hell I’ve lived through for the past ten years is enough to put me off men for the foreseeable future. I’m still recovering from what my asshole ex put me through. It’s going to take some serious time for me to ever get past that.

  8

  Spencer

  Friday, October 14th

  IT SEEMS LIKE I’VE BEEN waiting for this moment forever.

  The first game of the season. Only a few more minutes until we hit the ice and do what we do best. Adrenaline is blasting through my veins and I feel lighter than I have in forever. All previous seasons are behind me; all the wins and losses mean nothing right this minute. It’s all about tonight.

  I glance around at my teammates. Most of them are like me, moving restlessly from one leg to the other. Some are probably running through their pregame mental preparation. I know Kingston is. He’s always been that way.

  I’ve always been the one who focuses on clearing my mind of everything. I let the energy of the arena fuel me. The thump of the base as the music starts to play, the shouting from excited fans, the smell of the ice, the cold air against my overheated skin.

  I’m ready.

  Okay, hockey fans. Let’s give it up for your Austin Arrows!

  Leading the way, I head toward the spotlight shining directly down on the ice in front of the giant skull that frames our entrance. My blood pumps furiously through my veins, adrenaline energizing me. I live for this shit right here.

  Pushing off with my left leg, I drop my right foot onto the ice, the blade catching perfectly as I shoot forward, circling our end of the rink while my teammates follow behind. It’s going to be a good night; I can feel it. Not only is the crowd pumped but the team is, too.

  The pep talk I gave in the locker room was short and sweet and to the point. Our only job tonight is to be present, to give it everything we’ve got. Last year doesn’t matter. Tomorrow doesn’t matter. We simply need to be able to walk off the ice tonight feeling good about how we played. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, but you never set out to do the latter.

  I see Kingston heading for the net and I know he’s focused.

  One of the officials calls out to me and I nod my head.

  It’s time.

  The locker room is alive with the sounds of our win. Players high-fiving, reporters looking for someone to talk to. The brief reprieve I had when Phoenix insisted on introducing me to a few guys he invited to the game tonight has worn off. They’ve disappeared, and once again, the focus seems to be on me.

  The quick shower I took did little to calm my nerves for what I know is coming. I feel my anxiety levels rising, but I swallow hard and try to shake it off. This is the hardest part for me. I hate talking to people, hate answering questions, hate the feeling of my chest being squeezed in a vice of tension.

  I can spend two hours on the ice and never break stride, but the instant I’m surrounded by people who are eager to get my thoughts on every little detail or to ask what our plan is, I get tongue-tied. It’s the very reason I hate the social engagements. If it weren’t for the fact that my team nominated me for this position, I would’ve never agreed to be the captain. The stress is sometimes unbearable, but I know I can’t show it.

  “Optimus, how’s it feel to get a shutout against last year’s Cup champions? Do you think it’s luck?”

  I try to look the man in the face, but it’s easier if I stare at his neck. Since I’m sitting down, it’s not too obvious. “I don’t believe in luck,” I tell him honestly. “I believe we were prepared and we played well.”

  “Do you think this is going to pave the way for the season?”

  I fight to keep from rolling my eyes. That was a stupid fucking question. “I think it was one game. We were in sync. The only thing we can do is to practice so we can do it again.”

  “You scored twice tonight and you had one assist, Kaufman. Were you disappointed you didn’t get a hat trick?”

  Wow. Who let this idiot in here?

  “I don’t care who scores the goal,” I say firmly. “As long as it’s not the other team.”

  A few reporters chuckle.

  Voices across the room draw my attention, and I glance over to see several reporters backing away from Rush, then quickly heading for the door.

  The next question clues me in as to what’s going on. “Is it true, Optimus? Your sister is dating Rush?”

  Son of a bitch.

  “Do you not worry about her?” another reporter asks. “After the accusation last season?”

  I don’t bother to dignify that with an answer. Pushing to my feet, I shake my head. “No more questions. Thanks, guys.”

  And suddenly, our shutout doesn’t have quite the same feel as it did a few minutes ago.

  I need to find Ellie. I know she’s waiting for me, and the last thing that I want is for her to be bombarded with questions. I catch sight of Kingston. He’s hauling ass out the door, probably thinking the same thing I am. Someone has to get to my sister before the reporters do.

  “Hey, Kaufman,” someone calls out.

  I glance around, trying to find the owner of the voice.

  “Amber’s waiting for you in the hall,” Mattias informs me. “I told her she could come in, but she passed.”

  Great. Just what I don’t need right now.

  Knowing I won’t get out of this, I grab my suit jacket and pull it on. Might as well get this over with. God knows running out of the arena isn’t the right thing to do.

  Although, it really is a tempting idea.

  Noelle

  ALTHOUGH ELLIE LIKES TO GO to the game to watch it live, I prefer to watch it on television. Don’t get me wrong, being at the game is great. I love the popcorn, the cotton candy, the music, the interaction with the fans. Of course there’s the on-ice entertainment. The smell of the ice, the sound of bodies hitting the boards, the slap of the puck, the grunts and groans, the roar of the crowd when a goal is scored. It’s all great. But the downside is that I don’t get the opportunity to listen to the commentators. Being that my dad is the play-by-play announcer for the Austin Arrows, I’m a little biased.

  The man’s brilliant, let me tell you. Not only has he been announcing for the Arrows for the past twenty years—even before they relocated the team from up north—but he’s also called every Stanley Cup Final for the past ten. When Ed Dexter talks, people listen. Yep, he’s my link to the hockey world. So, it works out that Ellie wants to go to the games and I get to watch them on television and listen to my father’s rumbling voice throughout the night.

  I heard his excitement tonight. I could practically feel the vibrations racing through him as he called every play, yelled every goal. That ring of excitement that stresses how much he loves his job always makes me smile. So, while the bar was cheering the Arrows, I was grinning like a loon, loving that every person in the place was listening to my father.

  It also gave me a chance to admire Spencer from afar.

  That’s a new one for me. Sure, I check out the players. What red-blooded female hockey fan doesn’t? In their jerseys and helmets, every player is hot. The way they master the ice and the puck… It’s exhilarating.

  But I don’t usually focus on any one player. It’s a little unsettling that the object of my affection tonight was Spencer Kaufman, aka Optimus. Personally, I call him Big C because of the big C he wears on his jersey, being the captain and all. It always makes him smile.

  I wonder what Ellie would think if she knew I was ogling her brother tonight. Not that I need my best friend analyzing my every move, wondering who I’m watching.
And boy, tonight would’ve been obvious. At one point, when a fight broke out, I was stunned, staring at the screen, ignoring everyone in the room as I watched the other player shove Spencer. I was silently rooting for him to punch the guy, but Spencer is far too cool and collected on the ice. Most of the time. It’s the reason they nicknamed him Optimus. His ability to lead with a level head is noteworthy. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t lost it before, but it’s rare.

  “Did you hear what happened?”

  I look up from my position behind the bar to see Julie staring at me, her eyes wide. “They won?”

  “No. Well, yes, they did, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” she says. Her voice lowers. “Kingston announced that he’s officially dating Ellie.”

  “Really?” Well, that was sooner than I expected. I wonder what Ellie thinks about that.

  “Yeah. Apparently several reporters chased Ellie and Bianca right out of the building.”

  “Oh, crap.” I grab my phone from my pocket, wanting to make sure Ellie hasn’t called. If she needs me, she knows I’ll be there for her.

  “Apparently Kingston went all caveman and swooped them out of there without comment.”

  Well, good for him.

  My phone shows no missed calls, so I shove it back in my pocket.

  “I heard someone mention that Mount Rushmore was flirting with her on Twitter. I think he’s going to start a riot.”

  I make a mental note to check Twitter later. It doesn’t surprise me. I wonder what might happen if I were to flirt with Spencer on Twitter. Or not. Definitely not.

  I think I’m losing my marbles.

  I can’t help but think about the other night. I’m still waiting for him to bring me one of those extra sticks so I can put it in the closet. My face heats just thinking about it. Will he think I’m a nutcase if I do? Or will he think I’m doing it because of him? I didn’t think about that. What if putting his hockey stick in the closet makes the universe think I’m waiting for him? I’m not. Really. I’d have to be completely out of my mind to think that something might happen between me and Spencer.

  The idea makes me chuckle.

  I’ve known the guy since I was ten years old. He’s only two and a half years older than me, so we went to the same school. Never once did I fantasize about dating my best friend’s brother. Honestly.

  And that’s true. I’ve had fantasies, sure. But I’ve had fantasies about plenty of hockey players, but not one of them involved actually dating. And I definitely didn’t think about Spencer in high school, back when I was around him nearly every day. In fact, I haven’t thought about him until recently. Maybe this whole celibacy thing is frying my brain cells. I mean, really, what are the odds that Spencer Kaufman would even look at me like that? I’m sure he sees me like a sister.

  Ick. That’s a creepy thought. I definitely don’t think of him in any brotherly sort of way.

  Friends, yes.

  I have got to shake off this nonsense. Now that the game is over, players are going to start coming in, which means the lull is pretty much over.

  As I turn back to the kitchen, eager to make sure Tyler has what he needs—he’s the only person Chef Diva allows to man his kitchen when he’s not here—I can’t help but wonder if Spencer is going to show up tonight. More importantly, I’m wondering how to pretend I don’t notice him.

  It’s never been a problem before. So what the hell is wrong with me now?

  For the first time in a long time, I’m actually looking forward to something.

  Wouldn’t it figure that it’s a man.

  Uggh.

  9

  Spencer

  I SHOULD BE OUT TONIGHT, not sitting at home waiting for Kingston to drop my sister’s keys by. I wish I could say my reluctance is due to all the hoopla from Kingston’s announcement about dating my sister, but that’s not it. However, it did give me a good outlet for my frustration.

  It isn’t that things went completely sideways as I expected them to. But I did have to deal with Amber, and until I come to terms with the fact that she’s here for good, I’m going to need some time to adjust. Sure, everything was fine tonight. She was nice, professional. Amber insisted that they allow the reporters to get a few pictures of me with Phoenix after the brief press conference I was forced to do. She wanted us to mention the upcoming charity events and how important they are to the team. Thankfully, Phoenix was the one to do most of the talking. Coach filled in after that. I was merely a face for the background, which doesn’t bother me at all. But I knew that Phoenix was watching me, so when the questions started, I had no choice but to answer the ones directed my way.

  I hate that shit. I hate the way everyone wants to dissect everything. We’ll do enough of that at our next practice. Watching the film to see where improvements can be made is an important part of training. I’ve got a few things I want to look at because I know I could’ve done better tonight. Win or not, there’s still room for improvement.

  No, the reason I’m at home has everything to do with Amber. I heard one of the players mention that Amber was going to be at the Penalty Box after the game, and I have absolutely no desire to see her. After talking to her tonight, I really don’t care to interact with her for a little while.

  Okay. Maybe that isn’t quite the truth. I want to see her, but I know I shouldn’t. However, I don’t want to see her because I have this uncontrollable desire to be around her again. No, I think it has more to do with getting those answers I never received all those years ago. Seventeen years should be plenty of time to get over it, but I can’t deny the girl bruised my ego when she dumped me. The least I deserve is to know why.

  My doorbell rings, signaling Kingston’s arrival. I shake off all thoughts of Amber and focus on trying to figure out what happened tonight after the game.

  “What’s up?” I greet Kingston, but the second I make eye contact, I can see that he’s not happy to see me.

  Granted, I was a bit of a dick to him on the phone a short while ago. Again, I blame that on thoughts of Amber. It’s beginning to piss me off that I’ve given her any of my time at all.

  “Here.” Kingston holds out my sister’s keys and I take them from him.

  “You wanna come in?”

  Kingston’s dark eyebrow lifts. “Why? So you can rip me a new one? I think I’ll pass.”

  I figured as much. “Why’d you pick tonight of all nights to bring it up?”

  A muscle clenches in Kingston’s jaw, and I can tell he’s trying to hold on to his temper. It doesn’t help that I sound like his fucking parent and not his teammate, but this is my sister we’re talking about. I didn’t like hearing that Ellie and Bianca had been ambushed by fucking reporters.

  “You need me to help get her car?”

  Okay, so apparently Kingston doesn’t want to discuss this. Can’t say I blame him. Tonight should’ve been about the win, but instead, I’ve allowed the situation to consume me. I need to take a deep breath and regroup.

  I shake my head. “No. I’m good.” I’d rather drive Ellie’s car to her and have her take me back to the rink for mine than have to endure Kingston for that long. I’ve successfully put him in a foul mood, and that’s the last thing either of us needs tonight. “By the way, great job on the shutout. You kicked ass out there.”

  Kingston nods but doesn’t say anything.

  Clearly, I’ve overstepped.

  My friend’s attention turns to the door, and I know he’s getting ready to bolt. I should’ve kept my big fucking mouth shut.

  “Look, man. I’m—”

  “You know what?” Kingston interrupts. “I really don’t want to hear it right now. You’ve said your piece. You don’t appreciate my tactics and maybe I did fuck it up, but it wasn’t on purpose.”

  Another sigh escapes me. “You’re right, man. I shouldn’t’ve said anything. Amber told
you to get the word out and you did. That was the right thing to do. I just wish we’d all had a heads-up. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

  Kingston’s eyes narrow. “Trust me when I say I would never let anything happen to Ellie or Bianca. I would lay down my life for them.”

  “I know that.” And I do. I’m not thinking straight, but I also have no intention of sharing that with Kingston—or anyone else, for that matter.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”

  I watch Kingston walk out the door, and once again I’m left alone with my own bad attitude.

  Shitty fucking way to end the night after a huge fucking win, but that’s the way it goes, I guess.

  Half an hour later, I find myself at the Penalty Box, sitting at the bar, talking to Noelle while she serves a few customers around us. Thankfully, it turns out the intel regarding Amber was inaccurate. She isn’t here and hasn’t been here.

  Not that I knew that before I put my ass in my truck and headed this way. I think if I was being honest, the reason I didn’t want to come to the Penalty Box was more because I knew I would see Noelle. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since the night she sat on my lap. She has overloaded my circuits, and I feel a little out of sorts. I don’t like the feeling, quite frankly.

  I’ve made a point to only react to women in the visceral sense. And trust me, my dick is all about paying attention to Noelle Dexter. The woman is…

  Well, she’s not a woman I should be thinking about with my dick, honestly. She deserves a whole hell of a lot better than me. Yet I can’t seem to get her out of my head.

  “You’re so much more attractive when you smile,” Noelle notes as she moves past me.

  I lift my gaze to hers and smile. Of course I do. It’s what she wants.

  Sometimes I don’t know what to think about the cute little fairy who flutters around like she doesn’t have a care in the world. She’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, having been my sister’s best friend for what seems like an eternity. She’s so cute, and so full of life, it’s difficult not to be in a good mood when she’s around.