Slapped Into Love

by Rochelle Paige

  “Alrighty then,” I grumbled to myself as my cheeks heated. Shaking it off, I skated to the other side of the ice and positioned myself behind the net. “Ready?” After getting a bunch of nods, I pulled a whistle out of my pocket and hung it around my neck. Lifting it to my lips, I blew and the guys sprung forward in a race to where I stood. I repeated the process several times, until I felt like I had a decent handle on who the fastest skaters on the team were. And damn if Ryan wasn’t right—four of the forwards beat him consistently, but he was the fastest of the defensive players for all but one of the races.

  “Good job, guys,” I offered as I moved from behind the net to stand in front of them. I raised my voice to make sure it carried to everyone, and took the time to scan the line and make eye contact with each and every player. “You’re pro hockey players, and you wouldn’t have made it here if you couldn’t skate. You know it.” I paused to glance at Ryan, and he offered me an apologetic smile. “Your coach knows it, and I know it. Nobody is saying that you’re bad skaters, but I can make you faster.”

  “How can you do that?” one of the centers asked.

  “That’s a great question. I’m glad you asked,” I complimented him. “As a speed skater, I know things that can help you to be more efficient on the ice because that’s what I’ve been trained to do since I first stepped on the ice when I was two years old. The more efficient you are, the easier it is to go faster and the less tired you’ll be.”

  Ryan stunned me by chiming in with a supportive comment. “We’re also less likely to get hurt if we aren’t tired, and that’s more important than ever since we can’t afford to lose anyone right before the playoffs.”

  It sounded like I’d convinced the cocky defenseman that a girl had something to teach pro hockey players, but it remained to be seen if he could prove to me that he wasn’t the ass he seemed to be with his earlier comments. For some reason—one that I refused to admit had anything to do with how sexy he was and the way he’d made by body feel during our one night together months ago—I found myself hoping he’d manage to do it.

  Chapter Three

  Ryan

  By the time Tamara finished running us through drills, I was dripping with sweat and beyond exhausted. She’d worked us hard in a short amount of time, focusing on getting us to skate with more knee bend and developing more power by pushing to the side.

  “The things I’m working on with you may seem like small changes, but I get that they’re also difficult adjustments to make since you’ve been skating one way for your entire lives and now I’m trying to make you do it differently. With how comfortable you all are on the ice, I know it’s almost like telling you to walk differently.”

  “It really is,” Alec agreed, earning him a smile from her that had me glaring at him. If it’d been Jason, I wouldn’t have cared as much since he was happy with Cee-Cee. But Alec was as single as I was and if anyone as going to be in Tamara’s good graces, I wanted it to be me.

  “With you running the drills, I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” I assured her.

  “Uh huh,” she hummed, giving me a doubtful look before smiling at the rest of the team. “That’s all for now, guys. As long as your coach doesn’t need you for anything else, you’re free to go and I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

  Coach gestured at the door leading to the locker rooms, and my teammates took that as their cue that practice was done. While they headed to the bench to grab their equipment, I skated towards Tamara. Coach shook his head as he passed me and mumbled, “Good luck with that. You dug yourself a deep hole there, Forrester.”

  He was right, but in my defense we mouthed off to each other on the ice all the time. We didn’t mean anything bad with the jabs we took at each other; not really. And I’d intended for mine to be aimed at my rookie teammate. Not Tamara. I just needed to make her understand that.

  “Look, Tamara—”

  “Do you call your coach by his first name?” she asked, cutting me off.

  “Sometimes.”

  “Just because you’ve seen me naked doesn’t mean it’s okay…” She paused and looked at me with confusion clear in her wide brown eyes. “Wait. You do?”

  “Yeah.” I glided a couple of inches closer to her. “I’m not calling you Tamara as a sign of disrespect.”

  “Are you sure about that?” she asked with a hint of challenge in her tone.

  Coach had definitely been right to offer me luck. I was starting to wonder if the hole I’d managed to dig for myself was too deep for me to get my way back out of it. It figured my fucking mouth would screw over my chances with the woman who’d killed my ability to get a boner for anyone else.

  I was willing to admit that I’d been an idiot who hadn’t bothered to look much beyond a woman’s appearance when it came to who I slept with. I hadn’t been interested in anything more than a night or two of fun, and they never bothered to get to know me beyond the fact that I was a pro hockey player, so it seemed like a fair trade. But after seeing for myself how having Cee-Cee in his life had made Jason both a happier man and a better hockey player and the way I couldn’t get Tamara out of my head, I’d started to rethink my view on relationships. Only it hadn’t done me much good when I’d had no idea how to find Tamara since I hadn’t even known her last name.

  If only I’d pulled my head out of my ass back in Anaheim and treated her like more than a one-night stand. She was worth way more than a night or two of my time, and that was before I knew she was an accomplished athlete in her own right. A hot as hell one who was as comfortable on the ice as I was. And she wasn’t willing to take shit from anyone, including me. For a guy who was used to women agreeing with just about anything and everything I said, no matter how ridiculous, it was a nice change of pace. Except for the part where she was pissed at me and didn’t care that I knew it.

  “Yes, I’m positive.” Her stance relaxed a little. “It fits you perfectly. A beautiful name for a gorgeous woman.”

  “Really? Do you really think I’m going to fall for your lines again?” she sputtered, shaking her head. “I’m your power skating coach; not some woman you’re trying to pick up in a club. Again.”

  “Shit,” I muttered to myself as she skated away. She was already through the door leading to the visitor’s locker room before I started to follow. I cursed myself for being too slow. And for managing to fuck up with her yet again.

  Chasing her into the locker room she was using would be an even dumber move, so I grabbed my stuff off the bench and headed into mine instead. After I set my stick against the wall, I shoved my helmet and gloves onto the top shelf, snagged a cold bottle of water off the table in the middle of room, and dropped down onto the bench. I stared down at my skates for a moment before I bent over to unlace them.

  “How’d it go?” Jason asked quietly from his spot next to me. Not that it did any good because the guys were worse than a bunch of bored high school students when it came to gossip.

  “How did what go?” Alec asked from my other side, his gaze shifting between Jason and me as he undid his shin guards. “Wait. Are you really going to try to go there with her even after the shit she heard you say?”

  “Are we even allowed to go there? I mean, technically she’s one of our coaches. There’s got to be a rule against it, right? Not that she isn’t worth breaking a few rules. She’s hot as fuck,” one of the forwards chimed in from the other side of the locker room.

  “Shut the fuck up about her,” I growled.

  “Shit. She’s not another one of those chicks that you guys don’t even want us to look at, is she? Like Alec was with that PT who ended up getting engaged to his brother?” our starting goalie asked.

  “Or her best friend, the hot redhead Campbell’s dating?” the backup goalie added.

  “Wait. We can call dibs on chicks?” one of the rookies asked.

  “The only thing you can call dibs on is your jock strap, at least until after you’ve paid your dues just like the rest of us had to d
o,” Alec answered before he turned his attention back to me again. “But the question remains, are you claiming her?”

  Considering how pissed I’d been when Tamara had given him even a hint of her approval, the answer was obvious. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Dude, you don’t have a chance in hell with her,” he chuckled. “But at least you don’t have to worry about one of us stealing her away from you. We’ll be too busy watching you go down in flames to hit on her ourselves.”

  “Fuck off,” I muttered as I stripped out of the rest of my gear and headed for the showers. I cleaned up and got dressed in less time than usual for me since the guys kept on giving me a hard time about Tamara. Nothing they said crossed the line since it was all aimed at making fun of me and how she wasn’t going to look at me as anything more than another skater on the ice while she ran us through drills. Little did they know I’d been inside her and planned to remind her how good it’d been between us before.

  As I was putting on my jacket, Jason came up next to me and grabbed my shoulder. “Don’t let them get in your head.”

  “What if they’re right?”

  He squeezed his hand tight before dropping it. “It’s not like you to be uncertain around women. You’re usually so confident, you’re basically cocky.”

  “Yeah, well, being cocky is only going to do more harm than good when it comes to Tamara,” I sighed.

  “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Now’s not the time for it. Not if you want to get the girl. Learn from me and all the months I missed with Cee-Cee, man. Go after her. Now,” Jason urged.

  I hadn’t missed as much time with Tamara as Jason had with Cee-Cee, but it’d been enough for me to know good advice when I heard it. “Fuck,” I groaned. “You’re right.”

  I raced out of the locker room and pounded on the door down the hall. When she didn’t answer, I pushed the door open and groaned when I saw that the lights were all off. Turning swiftly, I raced down the corridor to the exit that led to the secured parking lot for the players in back of the arena. I was just in time to see an unfamiliar car drive past with Tamara behind the wheel. “That woman is too damn good at disappearing acts. It looks like I’m going to need to get faster off the ice as well as on it if I want to catch up to her.”

  Chapter Four

  Tamara

  When I spotted Ryan as he shoved open the rink door, I was doubly glad that I’d been able to get out of there as quickly as I had. Coach had slowed me down a little bit to give me directions and keys to the apartment the team had lined up for me. Between having a place to stay and a rental car to get around without having to depend on public transportation or an Uber, it was almost like being home. Except for the hot-as-heck hockey player, who’d been haunting my dreams for months, staring at the back of my car as I’d pulled out of the lot.

  After the way I’d shot him down on the ice, I hadn’t expected him to try anything again. I was familiar with guys like that—athletes who thought they were God’s gift to every woman they met. They weren’t used to women saying no, especially one who’d foolishly said yes before, so it sometimes came as a shock. But their interest quickly waned since there always seemed to be a never-ending supply of other women to take your place if you weren’t interested. I’d spent most of my life in rinks surrounded by them; which was probably why my mother continually complained to me about my lack of a dating life. The guys I met weren’t boyfriend material so I usually wasn’t interested enough to give them a chance...except for that one time with Ryan. But then I’d freaked out when I woke up because one-night stands weren’t my style, and I wasn’t sure how to act around him after the night we’d spent together. And that was before I’d known he was a professional hockey player.

  My brain knew that Ryan was no different than other guys who played off the ice just as hard as on it, but damn if my body would listen. When my gaze locked with his in my rearview mirror, my stomach clenched in a way that reminded me of how I felt before a race. I was filled with those excited nerves at the anticipation of what was about to happen; which was ridiculous in this situation since nothing beyond what’d already happened was going to develop between Ryan Forrester and me except for a professional relationship on the ice.

  It wasn’t like I was even going to see him outside of the power skating sessions I ran at the rink. Something that was probably for the best because it meant I had a good eighteen hours before I had to face him again—plenty of time to get over my reaction to seeing him again. Or at least that was the pep talk I gave myself as I stopped at the nearest grocery store and grabbed enough stuff to tide me over for a couple of days until I had the energy to do a full shop.

  By the time I made it to the apartment complex, I was almost ready to drop from exhaustion. Jet lagged wasn’t strong enough to describe how I felt. Between the time difference, arriving a day late and having to head straight to the rink, running the power skating session with the guys, and the shock of seeing Ryan again; my body was running on empty. I needed a hot meal followed by about a dozen hours of sleep, but I was going to have to settle for a huge sandwich and a solid eight in bed.

  “Maybe I’ll have time to stop somewhere for breakfast on the way to the arena in the morning,” I mumbled to myself as I hefted the two grocery bags, my suitcase, and carry-on out of the trunk of the rental car. I tried to knock it back down with the arm holding the groceries, but the damn thing wouldn’t cooperate. “Shit.”

  I bent down to set them on the ground, and when I popped back up a male hand was shutting the trunk for me. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I was startled enough to yelp before I dug in my purse for the mace my mom insisted I carry whenever I was traveling. It was gripped in my hand, still in my purse, when I recognized the voice of the man telling me to calm down. My head jerked up and met familiar hazel eyes.

  Ryan held his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. “Fuck, I’m sorry for scaring you. I was getting ready to head over to the building”—he dropped his hands and jerked his chin in the direction of a silver Porsche SUV parked a few spots down from my rental—“and saw you struggling, so I figured I’d come over and help.”

  “What’re you doing here?” I asked him suspiciously. “Did you ask your coach how to find me? Because if so, you shouldn’t have bothered. We don’t have anything we need to talk about off the ice, and I’ll see you at the arena tomorrow.”

  “I’m guessing Coach didn’t tell you?” he chuckled, the raspy sound sending shivers through me even though it couldn’t mean good things for me.

  “Tell me what?”

  “A bunch of the guys live here.”

  “Including you?”

  “Yup.” His lips tilted up in a small grin.

  I wanted to bang my head against the car for jumping to the wrong conclusion, and then sharing it with him. “Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have assumed that you followed me here.” It went without saying that a guy like him didn’t need to chase down a woman, especially ones he’d already slept with before.

  “No worries. It’s not like I can be angry with you after how I managed to keep shoving my foot in my mouth in front of you earlier today. Right?” His hazel eyes twinkled with humor as his grin turned into a full-fledged smile. “And I’d be lying if I said I’m not thrilled as fuck that you’re going to be my neighbor since it’ll make it harder for you to stick to that whole spiel about how we’ll only see each other on the ice.”

  My cheeks filled with heat, and I shifted my carry-on strap on my shoulder because I wasn’t sure how to respond. Things were a lot more complicated now that I knew he wasn’t just a player I’d see on the ice during power skating sessions. He was an insanely hot guy I was still attracted to who I was bound to bump into off of it as well. One who was apparently going to use every opportunity he got—both on and off the ice—to flirt with me.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” he offered, grabbing the handle of my rolling suitcase and lifting the grocery bags off the ground.

&n
bsp; “Thank you.” I had years of my mom jamming manners into my head to blame for instinctively offering him my gratitude when a big part of me wanted to yank my stuff out of his grasp and run for my apartment. Wherever it was. Jackass Ryan was easy—okay, fairly possible—to resist. Polite Ryan? Not so much.

  “Which unit are you in?” he asked

  I told him the number his Coach had given me and walked next to him as he led me to the building nearest us.

  “If they got you an apartment, does that mean that your contract with the team is long-term? Coach didn’t mention how long you’d be with us when he told everyone about you.”

  “Probably because you guys were too busy whining about the idea of having a girl teach you how to skate,” I joked...sort of.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he agreed as he unlocked the door to the building and held it open for me. “And I’m sorry for my part in it.”

  “Thanks.” And there went my mom’s deeply ingrained manners again. “And yeah, I’ll be here until the end of the season, however far into the playoffs you make it.”

  He nodded as he pressed the button to call the elevator. “It’s a good thing they set you up with an apartment here. It’s a popular location for those of us without families to worry about because it’s an easy drive to the arena and there’s a great workout room a lot of us use during the off-season. Plus, most of the units have a Jacuzzi tub in addition to a walk-in shower.”

  We stepped onto the elevator, and I let out a little involuntary moan at the thought of a hot bath in a Jacuzzi tub with the jets going at full power. The doors closed behind us, shutting me in with Ryan. His heated gaze dropped to my lips, and the elevator suddenly seemed much smaller than it really was.

  Chapter Five