“To be honest, I’m surprised you’re actually going out,” Seraphina said, feeling the discomfort being around Brandon alone start to leave her. “I know you don’t typically go out. Not that you’re a hermit but-“
He laughed, a genuine sound that forced Seraphina’s lips to turn up on their own.
She had heard the sound of his laughter before, most recently on the plane, and she basked in the sound.
"I'm trying to expand my horizons," he said. "Also, Ryan and Negan have been on my case about it all season. I figured Vegas was the perfect to place to go out." He shrugged. "At least it will get them off my back for a little while." He pulled his green eyes from her and glanced around. "Isn't what's-his-name supposed to be here by now? The plan was for you to be gone before we made our appearance on the floor."
Seraphina laughed. "Probably a smart thing," she agreed. Once again, she glanced at the slender wristwatch on her left wrist and shook her head. A small frown tugged her lips down and she couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Yes, he was. If he's not here in five minutes, I'm leaving. I feel like an asshole, standing here and waiting for the last twenty minutes."
"To be honest, I can't believe you wasted twenty minutes on him," Brandon pointed out, pushing his brows up to emphasize his point. "I know how much you hate wasting your time."
Seraphina cocked her head to the side. He knew that about her? She wasn't sure if she should feel flattered or nervous that he paid attention to her when she didn't realize. What else did he pick up on? That she still bit her nails? That she still ate hot cheetos at her desk like she was some kid in elementary school? That she never wore a pair of matching socks?
"You know," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets and glancing at his black loafers before looking up at her. "You should come out with us."
Seraphina felt her heart flutter. It almost sounded like a date but with a bunch of other people. People that she liked. People she knew wouldn't judge her for socializing with her employees.
For a moment, she let herself think about that. About what it would mean if she said yes. They would get into whatever nightclub together. He would offer to buy her drink. She would ask for a wine. He would tease her about drinking wine at a nightclub. Katella would force her on the dance floor even though she hated dancing. Brandon would join their group. But then, the group would start to disappear leaving the two of them alone. He would look at her, she would look at him. And then, then perhaps, if the moment was perfect and the gods were smiling down on them, he might lean towards her, never breaking eye contact and then, and then she would tilt her head up and...
"I can't," she finally said, forcing herself to pull out of this daydream. Her heart wrenched, as if she was physically pulling away from him. "Trust me, I want to but-"
"But somehow you can go out with some guy who's an actual asshole," Brandon said, "but you can't go out with your team. You can't celebrate being in a new city with your team. I just don't understand that, Sera. Wouldn't you rather be with us?"
"Of course I would," she said with a hiss, her eyes narrowed and her body tense. "Of course I would, Brandon. I would love to hang out with the team socially but that would send the wrong message."
"What, that our boss is down to earth and really cool and just a reminder that we play for an excellent organization in the best hockey town out of every place there's a team?" Brandon asked, slight attitude in his voice. The sarcasm dripped like the cubic zirconium did from her chandelier earrings and she felt herself continue to tense under his smartass remarks. "Don't you think other GMs do team bonding activities and events? Not just the charity events but actual events that are exclusive for our organization."
"Brandon," Seraphina said, her eyes flashing a crisp blue, the gold ring around her iris shining brightly, like the sun in the sky. "What do you want from me here? What can I do to make you happy?"
Brandon clenched his jaw and looked away. It looked as though he wanted to say something, like he wanted her to know something, but he was holding back.
And that was when the word vomit continued to spill out of her like a broken sprinkler to the point where she couldn't stop herself if she tried.
"You talk a lot, Brandon, but God forbid it's thrown back at you," she told him in a dark voice, her eyes narrowed. "God forbid you're required to speak. Sure, have an opinion on my choices and decisions. Have an opinion on my thoughts and my values. But when you're asked to share something about yourself, you clam up. You don't want to talk when it's about you. For once, why don't you take your own advice and do what you want without being held back by anyone or anything. Don't worry about the consequences, just do it!"
At that moment, Brandon's eyes snapped back to hers, and without a word, he strode to her. His long legs only needed two steps before he reached her, and then his hand were in her hair, his other cupping her cheek and tilting her head back so he could kiss her deeply.
It took a moment before Seraphina's eyes closed on their own accord and she was leaning into him, kissing back with all she could muster. He was kissing her. He had kissed her, completely on his own and it was magic, glorious, everything she had ever imagined it would be but more.
A long, low whistle pierced the air and Seraphina ripped herself away from Brandon, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. She gasped for breath but, from the corner of her eye, she saw Brandon straighten and give the whistler a cold, stoic look. He didn’t look affected by the kiss at all. Which was crazy because Seraphina could barely stand straight let alone hold herself together the way Brandon was. She had absolutely no idea how he did it.
Maybe he didn’t think the kiss was anything special?
That couldn’t be it. He specifically said he wanted to kiss her. It just didn’t get to the point of being passionate because someone had interrupted them.
And that someone was Phil Bambridge.
Phil Bambridge was six foot, lean and fit. Handsome in a preppy sort of way. He had slicked back brown hair and blue eyes, a chiseled jaw, and high cheekbones. He wore a suit that looked tailor-made and strode through the lobby like he owned the place. And who knew? Perhaps he did.
“Seraphina Hanson,” he drawled in a long voice, looking her up and down. “Don’t you look like a sight for sore eyes?”
She cleared her throat and averted her eyes, taking a step back from Brandon. If Phil was focused on her, he would be less likely to notice she had just been kissing her star goaltender. If he didn’t notice that, it would be… It would be like the kiss hadn’t existed. Because no one saw it. Even though it was the most real thing she had felt in years.
However, one look in his eyes and she knew very well that he had seen it. There was a sparkle in his eyes as they roved up and down Seraphina’s frame. It was almost as though the kiss had given Phil permission to look at her like she was some kind of piece of meat just for him. Like she would let anyone kiss her. The sad truth of the matter was, she hadn’t been kissed in over a year and now that she had, the entire world looked different. More colorful. She had a new pair of eyes. Her sight had somehow transformed. Before, she would have let Phil look at her that way, rolling her eyes internally and dismissing the behavior as what she had to endure being a woman in a man’s world.
But now, she didn’t feel quite so forgiving.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked, keeping his eyes fixed on her and completely ignoring Brandon standing there, tense and intimidating.
Seraphina turned to Brandon – almost as if she was forcing Bambridge to acknowledge his presence – and gave him a smile. Hopefully, he would understand what it meant – that she would be okay and that she wanted nothing more than to stay with him instead of be anywhere near Bambridge, and Jesus Christ, he was an amazing kisser – before following Bambridge out of the lobby.
Chapter 6
The restaurant was called Casa Marie, a trendy Mexican place that catered to young couples on the town. Seraphina felt entirel
y too dressed up and she wished she hadn't worn white, considering Mexican had so many spices and salsas that could potentially stain her dress and she would be devastated if this dress was ruined in any way.
Despite the fact that the silver town car was heated, Seraphina couldn't get comfortable against the tan leather seats in the back. When she snapped her seat belt in, Phil laughed, calling her adorable and cute but insinuating she was an idiot with the brain of a child. Instead of talking about sports, he focused on her appearance. He used the word gorgeous three times and beautiful twice and actually asked if her players had asked her out yet and how they were able to hold themselves back from approaching her.
"My players are all professional," she told him, giving him a piercing stare from where she sat behind the driver. Not that he realized it, of course. "They would never ask their GM out."
"Well, I wouldn't fall into that category," Phil said, pride sparkling in his dark eyes. "If I saw you, it didn't matter who you were or what position of power you were in, I would go after you until I won you over."
"So you wouldn't respect what I said?" Seraphina asked. Perhaps she should have bit her tongue and ignored the remark. She was sure he meant it as a compliment. But she was starting to get annoyed at the fact that she had to be here in the first place, not because she wanted to be, but because she was trying to be professional and laidback and one of the boys. She didn't find it fair that she had to deal with all of that while the male GMs could reject a business dinner without thinking twice.
Maybe Brandon was right. Maybe she was overthinking things and she should just do what she wanted. This meeting tonight wasn't going to affect the team; it was going to make her look good.
"Come on," Phil said with a roll of his eyes. "Girls love it when a guy chases after them. It's part of the fun, it's part of the game. When they say no, they really mean yes."
Seraphina snorted and rolled his eyes. She didn't care that he saw, either. She didn't care that he shot her a look like she was crazy for thinking otherwise.
"That's ridiculous," she told him. "Quite frankly, that's an offensive assumption and it could get you into a lot of trouble, if it hasn't already."
"Whoa, whoa," Phil said, gesturing with his hands that she should calm down. "I didn't realize I had asked my mom out to a sexy dinner tonight."
"Sexy?" Seraphina raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, sexy," Phil said as though it was the obvious thing in the world. "You have looked at yourself in the mirror, right?"
"Listen," Seraphina said, feeling herself shift uncomfortably. "I'm flattered that you're attracted to me but I'm not interested in a relationship, especially not with a GM. I mean, there's a conflict of interest there and-"
"Relationship?" Phil interrupted with a snort. "Jesus, I'm not looking for a relationship. I just want to have fun with you. The same kind of fun you clearly have with Brandon Thorpe." He wiggles his eyebrows at her, his lips curling into a smooth smile, and before Seraphina even knew what was happening, began to slide his hand up her thigh.
Seraphina immediately grabbed his hand and threw it off of her. Her entire body wretched at the touch, her insides screaming their protests. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get away from him. Brandon was right; Phil Bambridge was an asshole and she was too blinded by doing what she thought was the right thing to realize it. Hell, she hadn't even researched him after Brandon tried to warn her yesterday, back in her office. How could she have been so naive? Why holding she trust that Brandon was right?
She needed to get out of here. She needed to get away from Phil.
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, flashing her eyes at him.
"Oh, come on, Seraphina," Phil said with a roll of his eyes. "It's not like I grabbed your boobs or your ass. You're making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be."
Without warning, Seraphina reached back and punched him in the face. The crack of her knuckles sent pain down her hand but the sound was as beautiful as a bird singing a song early in the morning. She would deal with the pain later. The look on his face and the cry emitted from Phil's threat was worth it.
"You, bitch!" Phil exclaimed, clutching his face and shooting her narrowed eyes.
"Driver!" Seraphina called. "I want to get out!"
"Fuck, Seraphina, I think you broke my nose!"
"Maybe you should understand what the hell no means," Seraphina snarled, surprising even herself. She hadn't expected to sound so caustic, then again, she hadn't expected to hit a guy or even be assaulted in the back of a car on the way to what was supposed to be a GM meeting.
"You weren't saying no to Brandon fucking Thorpe," he said as the driver pulled to the side of the road. "You fucking puck slut. Typical female. This is why women shouldn't be in charge of sports teams. You can't control yourselves around successful athletes."
Seraphina punched Phil again, causing him to scream out a groan.
"You're right," she said as she opened the car door. "I can't seem to control myself."
She slid out with her clutch in her hand. She slammed the door shut and looked around. She was still somewhere populated so she wasn't afraid of being alone in an environment she didn't want to be. It would be easy to flag down a cab and head back to the hotel.
But first, she needed to call her sister.
Brandon couldn’t relax enough to enjoy himself at the first nightclub he’d been to in a while. He was never into the nightclub scene, preferring to stay at home and either read, swim, or play Final Fantasy. Sure, he was thirty, but sometimes playing an RPG game on his Playstation 4 helped calm him down after a particularly frustrating game. He had beat the game in record time last season. It also helped take his mind off of the fact that he absolutely, one-hundred percent was head over heels for his boss, Seraphina Hanson. He wasn’t the sort of guy to believe in love at first sight, but after their initial encounter, he couldn’t get her out of his head and suddenly, he didn’t notice the pretty girls in the stands, the pretty news anchors who interviewed them for their half-hour sports show. All he could think about was Seraphina and the utter faith she had in him, despite the fact that he had been a suspect in her grandfather’s murder.
Of course, she had the same faith in her team, regardless. Zachary Ryan had been arrested early in the season for assaulting an ex-boyfriend of his current girlfriend, Harper Crawford. Brandon didn’t know much about what happened but it sounded like the jackass totally deserved it.
Seraphina was just that sort of person. Filled with faith, even in people she didn’t know.
Brandon couldn’t be like that. He had grown up with a single mom working two jobs to keep a roof over his head and a sister who took care of him instead of socializing with her friends or go out on dates with boys. They had sacrificed everything for him and his dream – a dream that had never really been his, but his sister’s. A dream that she shared with him willingly and without bitterness or jealousy. He owed everything to his family.
But that focus and determination to be a success due to the inspiration his mother and sister had given him led him to also sacrifice. He grew reserved and guarded. The more successful he got, the less friends he had. Not necessarily because they changed, but because he had, and he wasn’t sure if they had been there for him or for his success.
When he was drafted, he worked that much harder. His girlfriend broke up with him – something he couldn’t blame her for – and it freed up even more time to focus. He played one season in the minors before being brought up to the Gulls in order to back up their starter, Misko Jarvinnen. He was an NHL player by the time he was nineteen and took on the starting role when Jarvinnen retired. His entire career was here, with the Gulls, which wasn’t very common with goalies.
But once again, Ken had faith in his abilities and Brandon became unstoppable.
He knew he wasn’t the friendliest guy. When the Gulls did fan events, he was called in and given an extra talking to be the event coordinator in order to
ensure he would actually go out of his way to socialize with the guests. He was captain, after all, and that role came with more responsibility than most.
It was ironic, actually, when Ken suggested him as captain in the first place.
“You’re the hardest working player on this team,” Ken had pointed out. It had changed his life; Brandon had Ken’s words memorized. “I don’t give a shit if you can’t talk. You can play. You can inspire. You can lead. That’s what a captain must do. He must stand tall and hold it together when his team is falling apart. You do that every night.”
With Ken’s recommendation, Brandon was awarded the C his third season, with a unanimous vote by his team.
He earned that C, and he continued to earn it. He knew one of the things he had to work on was his interactions with people so he decided to do something about that during the summers and force himself to date. Nothing ever stuck but at least he could practice opening up to people, putting himself on the line whether he was asking a beautiful woman out or breaking up with her. He never let things get serious because he had never met anyone who had captured his full interest and he stayed celibate during the season in order to focus solely on the game.
But he liked dating, he found, and once the season was over, he looked forward to meeting new people he knew wouldn’t last more than a few months in his life.
Until Seraphina.
At first, she was just another pretty girl he had seen in passing. He knew she was one of Ken’s granddaughters but she was in school and didn’t really involve herself in hockey-related events. Then, Ken was murdered, he wanted more money, and Seraphina inherited the team. This girl with no experience. He thought for sure they were going to let him go, if not because of his asking price, then definitely because he was a suspect.
But she didn’t.
And that was when he knew she was different.
When Katella got that call in the nightclub – he couldn’t even remember the name due to the fact that he wasn’t paying any attention and didn’t actually care to be there – his entire body tensed. He knew something had happened. He knew Seraphina was in trouble.
Lip Locks & Blocked Shots: A Slapshot Novel (Slapshot Series Book 3) Page 4
