He shook his head. What the hell was she doing to him?
“Those online pictures were adorable,” Baz called out.
“Penny and I are adorable, asshole,” Harty called back, nudging Ben’s shoulder as they sat next to each other in the locker room while some guys disappeared to change or take a shower. Twenty minutes was quick, but some guys needed new gear before each period, and a fast rinse down, if they could get it.
Ben tossed his jersey into the bin in the middle of the room, and guzzled a bottle of Bio Steel.
“Not talking about you, Hartless,” Baz said, a grin on his face that Ben never trusted.
“I think I’ve proven that I’m not heartless,” Harty grumbled. The man hated that old nickname and reminded the guys to call him Harty any chance he got.
“I’m talking about Cheesy and the reporter,” Baz said. Ben froze, a stream of pink liquid soaking into his already drenched pads.
“What are you talking about?” And please don’t remind him that Amanda was the media, he’d just gotten over that.
“Anyone have a phone?” Baz called out, and one of the assistants handed over his own phone. “You know you aren’t supposed to have this in here. No taking naked pictures of us and posting them online,” Baz teased, and the assistant just glared at him. Everyone was used to Baz’s nonsense.
“So, I was scrolling through a few message boards the other night, and I stumbled across pictures of our Cheesy and his girlfriend. Can we call her your girlfriend yet? I mean, it’s the first girl you’ve kept around for longer than a second.”
“Really, Baz. Just show me the damn pictures,” Ben bit out.
“We really like her, so go you,” Baz said with a fist pump, and Ben resisted the urge to put his fist in Baz’s face.
“Pictures,” he said, holding out his hand for the phone.
“So I was scanning through the Bunny Hop social media page.”
“The what?” Harty asked, laughing.
“It’s where the bunnies like to talk about us online. All good, for the most part. I created a fake bunny persona so I can infiltrate their club,” Baz said, wiggling his eyebrows, and Ben shook his head.
“Phone.”
“Here it is. Just swipe,” he said, handing the phone to Ben, who quickly scanned through a dozen pictures of him and Amanda from their trip to Napa the other weekend. Dammit. This was not what he wanted. Why did they even care? He glanced at a few of the comments. Some were nice. The vast majority were rude and almost vicious. He didn’t remember anyone taking pictures of them, but he’d been preoccupied with Amanda.
“Most of the pictures of you are recent and with her,” Baz said. “They’re chattering because you’ve never been so snuggly with one girl.”
“Snuggly? Really?” Harty said, and smirked.
“Direct quote. And not mine,” Baz said.
Ben scanned through the pictures again. They did look pretty snuggly with her hand in his back pocket as he kissed her. That’d been after their hike. He’d loved that she’d taken him to a place where people drank all day, and knowing his one drink a day rule during the season, she’d found stuff for them to do that didn’t require booze. Of course, he’d sampled a few wines at one vineyard. She’d said they didn’t need to, but they were in Napa after all, so he’d had to convince her. It was perfect.
He should be annoyed by the pictures, but he knew it was just part of being a professional athlete. And the pictures didn’t bother him nearly as much as he thought they would.
“Guess this happens. Glad they didn’t get anything too compromising,” he said.
“If you guys are done with your chit-chatting. Why is there a phone out in the locker room? You know the rules. Really, Ben?” Bugsy called out when he stepped into the room.
“It was an emergency, Bugs,” Baz said, grabbing the phone from Ben and handing it back to the assistant.
Bugsy glared at Baz. “I doubt that, but if the gossip girls are done, we need to talk about how we’re going to win this game.”
Baz gave the coach a salute and sat down. Ben just shook his head. How Baz’s neck wasn’t strangled by management on a regular basis was beyond him. But Baz was that player that was great in the room. The glue that held the team, even with all the pranks and nonsense. And on the ice—well, the man was anywhere and everywhere you needed him. An elite defenseman and the envy of other teams.
He wouldn’t offer up Baz in a trade for the world. No matter how much Baz liked to irritate the shit out of Ben.
“Hey Cheesy, you with us?” Bugsy asked.
“Yep. And I’m ready to win this game,” he said.
“Damn straight. We clinch tonight as long as we win in regulation. Giving away points isn’t an option tonight, and you all know this. That goal in the final second was key, and we need to build on that. Let’s hope their momentum is down when we hit the ice and that we can keep it that way.”
***
An hour later, with a shorthanded goal on Harty’s stick, they skated into the post season with a regulation win and Anaheim’s miraculous loss to Carolina. The team flooded the ice and merged into a massive group hug. Ben couldn’t fight back his grin if he tried—not that he wanted to.
“That’s fucking right,” he yelled to the guys. They’d busted their asses to get here, and they deserved their third-place spot in the division. And if Calgary lost their last two games, they’d be in second place.
“All the way to the end,” Finn yelled, as the entire arena erupted with chants of We want the Cup.
Then a microphone was handed to Ben. He hated this part—the end of the season captain speech. He pushed his sweat drenched hair off of his forehead and skated in a circle, taking in the filled arena. Very few fans had bailed to beat traffic. One of the benefits of having the arena so close to public transportation in a city that thrived on it.
His gaze landed on Amanda. He swore he could hear her shouting his name over the thunderous fans. He took in a deep breath, and addressed the fans.
“Well, we did it,” he paused as the crowd roared, clapping. Some banging on the glass. “Thank you for your support.”
He kept the rest of the speech short, and they raised their sticks to the crowd before exiting the ice.
He couldn’t wait to celebrate with his teammates and Amanda.
Chapter 17
Travel safety tip: Learn the customs and blend in. With your telephoto lens attached to the camera slung around your neck, and your guidebook and maps spread out around you, you’ll be spotted a mile away. Learn about the culture before you travel and walk around the city with confidence, not arrogance.
~ Adventurous Amanda, February 2014
She was still giddy as she walked into Crash and Byrne later that night. They’d clinched. They were playoff bound. Well, she hadn’t done anything, but it still felt like a team win. Moral support and all that. And Ben on the ice at the end, sweeping his hand through his hair before he spoke to the crowd.
Swoon.
She swore he did that just for her. She chuckled. Or he just wanted his sweaty hair out of his face like any normal person would.
He’d addressed the fans like he didn’t hate giving speeches and having all eyes on him. He told her time and again that being the center of attention when he was on the ice was fine, but speeches, he tended to avoid those like the plague. He’d come a long way from his quick soundbites.
“They won. I can’t believe they won. I mean, I can believe it. They totally deserve it. Oh, this is so exciting. I’ve heard that the playoffs are crazy,” Penny shot out in rapid fire, and Amanda feared her friend would run out of air.
Lexi laughed. “Yes. It’s wonderful. You know what else is wonderful? You taking a breath between sentences.”
Penny glared at them when Amanda nodded.
“I’m excited. It’s amazing, and they were totally going to make it, but you can’t rely on stats with this game. I mean, stats to see who might win. Stats about ev
erything else in the game are great.” She paused. “Sorry, I’ll slow down.”
Amanda chuckled. “No. It’s pretty sweet, but take it down a notch, or ten.”
“I can’t wait to get my hands on Ethan. And my mouth. I wonder how long we have to stay,” Penny said, a gleam in her eyes that Amanda was pretty sure was echoed in her own gaze as the exact same thoughts ran through her head.
“Hey, you have to hang out for at least two drinks. We have a babysitter,” Lexi said, her arm snaking around Grant’s waist when he joined them.
“A babysitter? Why isn’t she with Rose?” Amanda asked, referring to Grant’s mother, who adored Lexi’s daughter Abby.
“I don’t want to take advantage of Rose. She might get annoyed and stop delivering tiramisu to my door,” Lexi said, horror on her face, and Grant barked out a laugh.
“Nice to know your priorities,” Grant said.
“Oh hush, yours are the same,” Lexi fired back and Grant shrugged.
“Fine. Two drinks,” Amanda said, knowing that Ben would only have one drink. Although, since tonight’s win was a huge deal, they might not be able to escape as quickly as she’d like.
“Shall we get drinks while we wait? Oh, and that cookie bomb thing,” Lexi said, tugging Grant toward the bar. That woman had a one-track mind. Good thing Grant was the same way.
***
A short while later, the bar was starting to fill up and players were trickling in, but still no Ben or Ethan. She was getting restless. The quicker they showed up, the quicker Amanda could drag him back to his place. Her mother was still staying with her, and no matter how many times the woman offered to make Ben pancakes in the morning, Amanda refused to take Ben back to her place.
She was going to have to figure something out sooner rather than later since Kurt didn’t seem to have the promise that her mother had initially thought, if her date with some guy named Greg the other night had meant anything.
Now was not the time to think about her mother. She shook her head and took another sip of her beer as people started to cheer in the bar. She spun to watch Ben and Ethan walk through the door. Penny set her empty glass on the bar top and weaved through the crowd to Ethan, and then jumped. Ethan easily caught her and planted a huge kiss on her.
“Get a room,” someone yelled as Ethan flipped his teammates the bird and walked Penny into a corner.
Amanda’s eyes focused on Ben as he searched the bar. She lifted her hand in a wave, and he stalked toward her.
Stalked was definitely the right word.
She propped her arm against the bar before he swept her feet right out from under her in a crushing hug, his lips brushing her forehead, and she took in a shuddering breath.
He swallowed her gasp of surprise and proceeded to kiss the hell out of her. She vaguely heard shouts of encouragement and a few catcalls and whistles. He was staking his claim on her tonight, and she would gladly give herself over. He’d never planted one on her like this in front of his friends and teammates.
A shiver rolled through her as he squeezed his arms tightly around her waist, his head slanting, nudging her to return the kiss with equal fervor, and she twined her fingers in his hair and met him desire for desire.
He finally broke the kiss and set her back on her feet. She swayed a little, her back hitting the bar, and glared at him as he grinned. Well, as much as she could glare through her passion filled stupor.
Holy hell, the man could kiss.
“How fast can you finish your one drink?” she asked, her voice rough with need. And he laughed again, the sound harsh to her ears. He wasn’t as calm as he appeared.
“As much as I want to shotgun a beer and then drag you out of here, I can’t leave too early. It’s not a normal win,” he said, his arm still snug around her, his head dipped low so only she could hear.
“I know that. And I’m so freaking happy for you, but whenever you’re ready to take this celebration somewhere private, you won’t have to ask me twice,” she whispered into his ear before she nipped his lobe. His drawn in breath rolled through her, and she couldn’t wait to get him alone.
“Stop teasing me,” he muttered, pressing a hard kiss to her lips that set off a few more whistles.
“You started it. Being all hot, and winning tonight, and now we can’t leave until we mingle.” She pretended to pout, but it quickly turned into a gasp when his hand slipped to her ass and he gave her a squeeze. Since she was up against the bar, hopefully no one saw the grab.
“Now who’s the tease,” she said.
“You are. As always.” His lips were still close to hers, his breath washing over her.
“They’re frighteningly adorable, aren’t they?” Lexi asked, pulling Amanda out of her Ben haze.
“Yes. So cute,” Penny teased, finally reemerging from where she and Ethan had disappeared for the last five minutes. Or maybe it’d been ten. She’d lost track.
“Oh, shut up,” Amanda grumbled, and then caught Ben’s smirk.
Yes. She loved Ben the tease. It was so nice to see him regularly these days.
“So how about that drink,” Ben said. “And if you’re good, maybe we can slip out sooner rather than later.”
“Promises, promises.”
“Pretty sure I’ve delivered on most of them by now,” he said. He broke her gaze and scanned the crowd. “First round’s on me, boys,” he called out to his teammates. “Thanks for getting us to the playoffs.”
The guys all cheered, and Adam and his staff got to work behind the bar filling all the drink orders.
Amanda stepped away from Ben as his teammates crowded in, so he could bask in their win. He always thanked the team for their effort, but he had to see that his leadership played a huge role. In the months since she’d really gotten to know him, she watched rookies look up to him, and veterans consult him on plays. He’d joked that Baz was the glue, but Ben was a pretty secure adhesive all on his own.
She smiled, sipping her beer, and taking everything in.
“You’re good for him. He’s learning to relax, and you make him smile,” Ethan said, low enough that only she could hear him.
“Umm. Thanks.”
“And he didn’t even freak out about the pictures.”
“Wait. What pictures?” Her gaze darted between Ethan and Ben.
“You didn’t tell her, Cheesy?”
“What?” Ben asked, breaking away from his conversation with Sully to turn his attention on them.
“The pictures in the Bunny Hop.”
“The what?” Penny asked. “What the hell is the Bunny Hop? Is that like a strip club for hockey groupies and players?”
Amanda coughed, having taken a sip of her beer. “What?”
“No, it’s not a strip club. Seriously?” he asked, shaking his head. “Apparently there’s an online group for puck bunnies, and they talk about us.”
“What do they say and how did you find out about it?” Penny asked, her curiosity, as always, piqued.
“Don’t worry. I’m not trolling for bunnies online, or in person, or anywhere,” Ethan said.
“Baz is a secret member. Well, he created a fake online persona,” Ben said.
“What? That’s just so wrong. But can we get back to these pictures? They’re of us?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, just some of us around town. Out on dates. A few of us kissing,” he said. And he was so calm. So un-Ben-like. How was he okay with this?
“Seriously? They have nothing better to do?” she asked.
“Comes with the territory of dating an athlete,” Penny said, and Amanda remembered Penny freaking out about this very same thing when she and Ethan had started dating. Not that Amanda cared about the pictures. She was still trying to figure out why Ben didn’t.
A month ago, he was determined to keep his entire life private. He’d avoided the media when he could, including her. And now…
She looked down at their linked fingers and then up to meet his dark gaze. With his other h
and, he brushed his thumb across her cheek.
“Don’t think about it and don’t look it up. The comments were mean, some of them spiteful and brutal. And absurd. They don’t matter. All that matters is you and me.”
In that moment she lost her heart to him, and she wasn’t interested in getting it back.
Ben was always nervous when his father came to see him play. They only made it to Minnesota once a year during the season, so he always had a ticket ready for his dad on game day. Ben made it home during the summer briefly, but he hadn’t called Minnesota his home since he’d moved to San Francisco shortly after the Strikers had drafted him. He’d tried for years to convince his dad to move to California, but the old man always refused.
Too many memories echoed through the walls of Ben’s childhood home, some heartbreaking, but most of them so warm that he wished he could wrap himself in them again. He could never live in that house again, but his father wouldn’t leave. She was still there. As Ben got older, and with everything that had happened with Tara, he couldn’t fathom a love like that. How gut-wrenching it could be when pure happiness was ripped from you without warning.
He choked back the pain and worked on taping his stick. Had he wrapped it once or twice? Shit. He yanked the tape off and started again. Once. Twice. Three times. He smoothed his hands over the tape before propping it against the wall and doing the same process to his next two sticks. He taped three every game, but his focus was off tonight, and it had nothing to do with the text he’d received from Amanda. In his jersey. And nothing else. At least he assumed nothing else since she’d conveniently forgotten to wear pants. The jersey had covered everything he wanted to see because she was so freaking short.
Fuck.
He could get used to pictures like that.
He shook his head and finished his stick prep, lining the sticks along the wall, before heading back into the locker room. They’d be on the ice in less than fifteen minutes for warm-ups, so he needed to get everything ready.
Skating the Line (San Francisco Strikers Book 2) Page 18
