by Avery Flynn
“What does this have to do with me?”
Maybe nothing. Maybe he’d just keep looking at her with that blank stare even after she spit it all out. But Lisette had a knack for knowing what people needed even before they came around to noticing it themselves. It was super handy in nursing patients who weren’t ready to accept their new realities. Hopefully, it was equally handy with her brand-new sort of boyfriend.
She clasped her hands tightly in front of her belly. The one doing nervous flip-flops and cartwheels. “First off, let me assure you that she’s promised not to say anything to anyone. I threatened her. Said I’d buy the baby a drum set every year for Christmas if she breathed a word. I guarantee her lips are sealed.”
“About what?”
“About you going to college. It turns out that you have options.” Now she gushed everything out, hoping to get through it, get through to him, before Kurt just walked out on her big leap of a plan. “First of which being that you don’t have to quit the Rage. You can stay on the team and start taking courses online. It’ll take longer, but that way you can stick your big toe in the water without fully committing until you’re sure it’s what you want to do. Or you could quit hockey, stay in New Orleans and go to Tulane. They’ve got a special program that’s adapted for adults who return to college after spending time in the real world. You get credit for life experience.”
Kurt wasn’t walking out in a huff at her presumption. But he wasn’t saying anything, either. Or changing at all the blank mask on his face. So Lisette pressed on with the why.
“I know you said you’re only kicking around the idea of giving up hockey. But I also know that sometimes a big change freezes you in place. I learned that from my patients. The scope of doing something, whether finishing a bucket-list item or just connecting with a long-lost friend, would keep them from being able to act at all. So talking through all your options with Noelle should make things easier. She’ll break it down into more manageable pieces for you to think over.”
That was it. Her whole spiel. Finished, Lisette had no idea what to do or say next. Except maybe go into her bedroom and bang her head on the wall at her stupidity if Kurt took any longer to figure out a response.
He walked a couple of steps toward the door. Her heart sank. Then he pushed his palm over his forehead, over the top of his head, down his nape and around his jaw to finish with a grip on his chin. Kurt spun on one heel to face her. And his expression had finally changed. It was the look of being utterly flummoxed and caught off guard. The wide eyes and slack jaw made her think of a lottery winner, or the recipient of a surprise proposal on the jumbotron at a baseball game.
“I’m blown away by your thoughtfulness.”
Such a relief that he’d taken her suggestion in the spirit in which it was intended. That was enough for Lisette, knowing that she’d helped. Actual thanks weren’t necessary. “Oh. Well, I’ve got a connection on the inside. It really isn’t that big a deal.”
“It is a huge deal,” Kurt insisted with an almost fierce edge to his voice. “You listened to me. You didn’t get hung up on how this crazy idea of mine would take a massive bite out of my paycheck. You didn’t laugh at the idea of a guy who shoves a puck around finally working out his brain for a living.”
Kurt sounded like he’d been doubting himself. She had to nip that in the bud. “Because those aren’t obstacles. Not if you truly want to do this. You’re smart enough to know what you want. And determined enough to go for it. That’s all that matters.”
“Not to most people. I’m so lucky that’s all that matters to you. Thank you. You’re the only one who cares about me, who sees past the fame and the jersey to the man inside.”
The raw emotion in his eyes and thickening his voice had Lisette almost ready to well up. Which she couldn’t do. She couldn’t risk showing Kurt how much he affected her. It might hasten the inevitable. So she swallowed back the lump in her throat and took the safest tack.
Drawing her finger slowly down his chest, Lisette said in a seductive tone, “I’m always far more interested in what’s under your jersey.”
“What about Noelle?”
“Oh, she’ll be ready to talk to you once she gets home. But I’d say we have a good ten minutes before that happens. How about I show you a side benefit to being a hot college stud?” She pushed him onto the sofa, straddled him and noticed that Kurt was already rock hard as she settled her core onto him. Their mutual attraction, the heat that burned between them, was the easy part. The feelings Lisette stuffed down were…as hard to ignore as the man beneath her.
But she had to. To protect both of them.
7
Kurt’s thighs burned as he raced down the length of the rink against the F-Bombs, Finn and Flynn. His lungs burned as he gulped in the icy air.
God, he freaking loved it.
Okay, it was probably the endorphins talking. But there was something about pushing himself to the limit—and skating right past his two best friends at the same time. Hard and exhausting? Hell, yes. Almost to the point of making his stomach turn inside out? Yeah. Totally worth it, though.
Kurt slapped the edge of the rink with his glove as he whipped into a turn. Damn. If he left the team, he’d miss this. Or maybe he didn’t have to leave, yet. He could keep going with this dream while chasing another. Talking to Noelle had opened up a whole realm of possibilities for him. So many that he hadn’t been able to sleep for two days going over everything in his head.
Well…fantasies of Lisette had something to do with keeping him awake, too. Proving how mixed-up he was, the only thing that helped Kurt get to sleep was hopping into the shower, picturing her luscious curves and taking care of business. He couldn’t wait to do it with her for real.
Cheers brought him back to the ice. Since official training hadn’t kicked off for the new season yet, things were looser. Most of the Rage sat on the bleachers set up around their training rink, whistling and shouting. He and the F-Bombs had the first round of tequila shots riding on the outcome. But their teammates were all betting dinner at Charlie’s Steakhouse on them. It gave an added edge to workouts. Something to make up for missing the excitement of actual games.
Ice flying from his skates, he stopped hard and heard the sharp breaths of his friends as they joined him a full two seconds later. At least if he did leave hockey, it’d be all his choice. Because Kurt was at the top of his freaking game. More fit than ever before.
Just not as focused. He’d have to figure out what that meant and what to do about it before official training did start. Not now, though. Kurt couldn’t look any further ahead than the party. It was the last thing he could do for Jasper, and he was damn well going to do it right.
Good thing he was still gloved up. Flynn’s high five would’ve split his palm otherwise. “Tight race, Hawk.”
“The only thing better than beating your sorry ass is beating Finn. What’s that forty-dollars-a-glass beer we saw on the menu last time? ’Cause I’m ordering that. On your dime, naturally.”
“Fine. And when I beat you next time, I’ll order a bottle of Cristal and slide the bill over to you with a shit-eating grin.”
“Trash-talk all you want. In fact, if you moved your legs as fast as you flap your gums, maybe you could beat me for once.” Kurt used his forearm to wipe the sweat from his forehead as the insults flew.
“Nah. Finn’s gone soft around the edges. Love turned him into a marshmallow.”
Finn whipped around as fast as if he was blocking a player rather than just Archer’s infamous bad mood. “Really? You want a go, Archer? Maybe if you were getting laid as regularly as me, the stick up your ass might finally fall out.”
“No more racing right now. I want to talk to everyone.” Kurt stuck two fingers between his lips and whistled his friends into silence. “I’ll send out an email with the details, but I wanted to ask you guys personally to do me a favor. I’m throwing a party a week from Saturday, and I want you all to come.”
“I’m gonna have to, because this party’s only got one out of three,” Kurt said with a wince.
Finn’s green eyes narrowed. “Which one?”
Shit. He was sunk. “The food should be decent.” Thanks to Lisette.
Kurt’s big plan had originally been to bring in bags of burgers and nuggets. He didn’t remember exactly what she’d lined up, but she deemed it kid-friendly, theme-appropriate and adult acceptable. Not to mention heads and tails better than his sorry-ass idea. All that mattered to Kurt was that it was out of his hands. He wouldn’t have the chance to screw it up. Which apparently he’d been well on his way to doing before Lisette got on board.
Flynn moved his hand as if erasing everything Kurt had said so far. “How about this? You give us your credit card, and we’ll teach you how to throw a real party.”
“I’ve already got a party planner.” A thought occurred to him. One Kurt didn’t like at all. “And all of you had damn well better keep your hands off of her.”
“Forget the lame party. Now I want a crack at the planner, if she’s got the Hawk all tied up in knots,” Archer said with a leer all over his ugly mug. “Must be smokin’.”
“Keep Lisette out of it,” Kurt growled.
“Smokin’ name, that’s for sure.”
How’d he get pulled so off track? Lisette had a way of taking up all the available space in his head. Probably because it was damned confusing wanting her so much…while knowing he’d always remind her of the sadness she was trying so hard to leave behind. In other words, being with her was really fucking selfish.
Kurt just couldn’t force himself to stop.
Because it was really fucking great, too.
Another piercing whistle got their attention again. “Look, on my day with the Cup, I’m throwing a party for Jasper’s hockey team, so they can all hang with it and be cool for a couple of hours. It’d mean a lot if at least some of you could be there, too.”
“Dude.” Flynn poked him in the thigh with the end of his stick. “Why didn’t you just say it was for Jasper? I’m there.”
Finn raised his hand. “Me, too. No matter how shitty the food is.”
“Yeah.”
A chorus of yeses came from his teammates. All of them, from what he could tell.
Yeah, these guys were special. He’d been tight with the Quakes. Hadn’t really gelled with too many Snakes. But this team, the Rajuns, they’d been there for him in the darkest days of his life. And then they’d been right there, sharing the brightest as they won game after game and eventually clinched the Cup. They had a bond unlike any other team.
Shit. How could he even think about leaving them? About leaving them in the lurch as they scrambled to find another center as good as he was? About leaving the best team of friends he’d ever had? It’d be totally selfish. What gave him the right to screw up everyone else and their team mojo?
“I’ll show up for you and Jasper—but I’ll stay to try my luck with this hot mystery party planner.”
Typical Archer. He’d have to shut that down right the hell now. “She’s off-limits.”
“Why?”
He’d leave off the part where he prevented her from getting a job with the Rage. After all, Kurt never would have taken that step if he’d had any idea that she’d already quit her old job. He felt like shit about it every day. And stayed awake every damn night, wondering how to fix what he’d fucked up so epically.
“Because she was Jasper’s hospice nurse. She’s just helping me out while she’s between jobs.”
“That’d be awkward as hell for you.” Archer tossed off a practiced wink Kurt had seen aimed a hundred times at the paparazzi, the media and any woman within spitting distance. “Not for me, though.”
That cocky bastard wasn’t getting anywhere near Lisette. In the same don’t even think of fucking with me voice Kurt used during face-offs, he ordered, “Stay away. I mean it.”
“Because she’s already got Property of Kurt Lundquist stamped on her ass?” Everyone laughed.
Everybody but Kurt.
Which every-fucking-one else noticed.
Flynn rounded on him. “Jesus H., Lundquist, are you insane? Did you hit on your dead brother’s nurse?”
It sounded just as bad when put like that as it did when the little voice in Kurt’s head had told him from the start. The voice that sounded a lot like Jasper’s. “No! I mean, I didn’t hit on her. Exactly. It just sort of happened.”
“You’re an idiot.”
He’d take that verbal punch. But he wouldn’t take it alone. “We’re all idiots when we let our dicks do the thinking. Anyone who hasn’t screwed up for the sake of a good screw, raise your hand and I’ll buy you a steak dinner. Right after I call you a liar and a virgin.”
Laughter echoed off the plexiglass shields again, cutting through the confused tension in Kurt’s head. And not a single man raised his hand.
But he couldn’t let them think she was a one-night stand. That’d be wrong. Easy…but wrong. “We didn’t screw.”
His quiet statement cut off the laughter like he’d turned off a faucet.
Smirking, Archer said, “You couldn’t close the deal, Lundquist? Need me to give you some pointers?”
Not in this lifetime. Kurt could walk into a bar wearing an obnoxious as fuck Mardi Gras T-shirt that said Beers Beads & Boobs and still score before Archer got his drink ordered. “I can close any deal I want. You learned all your moves from watching me.”
“Then why haven’t you done her? I mean, besides the obvious dead brother’s nurse thing—which weirdly doesn’t seem to be a red light to you.”
It was a red light. Kurt just figured he’d gone temporarily color blind. “We’re flirting. Making out a little. Harmless fun.”
“Cut him some slack,” Finn ordered. “Sometimes, after a long time away, you need a scrimmage before heading into the big game.”
Flynn shook his head, stripped off his gloves and tossed them onto the bleachers. “Scrimmage is over. Time to do this thing for real. We’ll all be your wingmen tonight. You’ll have so many offers you’ll turn down the first five just because you can. And because you’re the guy who brought home the Cup to New Orleans.”
“Stop saying that. We all did it, and you know it.” Yeah, Kurt was the one they’d hoisted on their shoulders at the end of the championship game. But he steadfastly refused to take sole credit for their victory.
“Tell us your preference, Hawk. Tall, supermodel type? Big caboose to hang on to?”
Brunette. With big breasts and a smile as sweet and hot as a chocolate cup filled with a shot of whiskey. “Thanks for the offer. But count me out.”
“Dude,” Flynn said in a low, worried voice, “you gotta get back on the horse.”
Oh, he wanted to get on. Get on and get in her. Not that he’d tell that to his teammates. But Kurt needed to get all of them off his case. “Lisette’s still helping me with the party for the next week. And…stuff keeps happening whenever we’re together.”
Zim crossed his arms. “Well, make it stop.”
Great. The guy almost never flapped his gums, and this was when he decided to speak up?
“Sub Zero’s right,” Anders chimed in. Figured. Of course the team virgin wouldn’t know how hard it was to be twisted up by a woman.
“It’s not that easy.” He didn’t know how to explain it. Kurt couldn’t explain this to himself. There wasn’t just an attraction. He and Lisette had a connection that just got stronger every time they were together. He fucking craved it. “This thing with Lisette—it hasn’t run its course.”
“Have you lost your damn mind?” Flynn let his stick clatter to the ice. “She’s eight kinds of trouble, given the history you two share. You don’t need that.”
Finn nodded. “Yeah. Walk away. N
o matter how hot she is. Right after telling us exactly how hot she is.”
His friends meant well. They knew he’d been out of the game for a while. But at this point, Kurt couldn’t walk away if he tried. Because he had tried to walk away. Had tried not to start anything and had tried not to take it any further. It hadn’t worked.
“You don’t understand. I’m not chasing her. And it’s more than just a hook-up. I like Lisette. A lot. I know it’s complicated, but—”
“But nothing,” Ford barked out harshly. “You don’t have time for complications right now.” The guy lived and breathed hockey twice as deeply as anyone else on the team. But he had a point.
Kurt knew, in his head, that Lisette was one hell of a complication. But to the rest of him? She felt like a gift. Not that he’d get all gooey like that when describing it to the guys, or when defending his admittedly stupid quest to spend time with her. “It’s the off-season. Now’s exactly the right time.”
“Only for a couple more weeks. Anything as complicated as this will pull your focus away.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Away from what?”
“Away from the Rage.” Aleks Lazar, the team’s former captain, came out of the shadows at the top of the bleachers. “They need you now more than ever.”
“Aleks? It’s good to see you, man.” Skates thumping against the thin carpet, Kurt lurched forward to give the man the classic back-slap/hug combo. “What are you doing here?”
Finn stepped up next to them, clapped Aleks on the back, too, and then did the same to Kurt with his other hand. “We all thought it’d mean more to you if Aleks made the offer.”
“Offer?” Kurt was lost. But damned happy to have the whole team reunited.
After clearing his throat, Aleks said, “The team wants you to be their next captain, Kurt. Got the nod from Coach Courage, too.” He nodded over his shoulder to where the coach had shouldered into the suddenly tight circle around them. “And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have take over for me.”
