Going for the Goal

by Sara Rider

  Jillian inhaled deeply, letting Genevieve’s words sink in. “You’re right.” It didn’t matter how her heart or her body felt about Nick. She couldn’t keep ignoring him. It was time to put her cowardice aside and get him that contract extension.

  Four weeks on and his teammates still hadn’t quit giving Nick shit about the suits. Every time he stepped onto the bus or entered the locker room, he was greeted with wolf whistles. Tonight Luke had called him “sir” when he sat next to him on the bus from the hotel to the Chicago arena. Nick threatened to kick his ass if it ever happened again, but Luke’s snicker suggested he wasn’t cowed. Nick still didn’t understand how the half dozen new suits Ben had picked out for him were supposed to prevent him from getting traded to Utah, but he was trusting Jillian to know what the heck she was doing.

  He probably would’ve regressed to his jeans and T-shirts a long time ago if it weren’t for the fact that wearing the damn suits was the only way he could think of to get back on her good side after that kiss on Christmas. Since she’d run away from him at the skating rink like he was a plague-infected rat, the only communications they’d had were curt business-related texts.

  Her disappearing act shouldn’t have bothered him, but he’d brought her into his home. Into his family. Something he’d never done before. And that kiss proved there was more than just a little attraction between them, which was why it had clearly scared the shit out of her.

  But tonight, he needed to put aside all thoughts about her motives. Tonight was Liakos’s first game back. The kid hadn’t shown any signs of maturation during his time off the ice, but Nick was holding out hope that he cared more about hockey than being a prick. The Vipers had won only two of their last five games, and either Liakos’s presence was going to give the team the offensive boost they needed, or it was going to end in disaster. Judging by the way the guy was already mouthing off to Mike in the locker room, blaming the goalie for the recent losses, Nick didn’t have much optimism.

  With only half an hour until the game started, he kept his mouth shut and laced up his skates, heeding Jillian’s strict instructions to not get in any more fights, no matter how much Liakos deserved it. She wanted him focused entirely on the game. So far, that was the one part of her strategy he did understand. In spite of everything, he’d been on a serious roll, racking up a record level of assists, but that meant nothing if the team wasn’t winning.

  After Coach Phillips walked them through tonight’s strategy against Chicago, he announced the lineup. Usually this was the point where Nick stopped listening closely and started visualizing his play, but he was curious to see how things would shake out with Liakos back in the game.

  He didn’t expect his own name to be left out of the first line.

  “Mitchell and Vaccaro, third line forward,” Coach droned on. “Salinger, you’re playing third line D with Carter today.”

  Nick’s head snapped up. “What?”

  “That a problem?” The energy in the room darkened as Coach raised an eyebrow, expecting a reaction.

  Nick’s jaw flexed so hard, it strained the muscles in his neck and shoulders. “No, sir.”

  Big fucking lie. He was one of the strongest defensive players in the league, not some schmuck who got trotted onto the ice when everyone else needed a water break. There was only one reason he’d be demoted to third string. Coach had decided not to call Liakos’s bluff about refusing to play with him without a public apology, and since management couldn’t trade him until his no-trade clause expired at the end of the season, they were simply going to erase him from the team.

  12

  After the way things had deteriorated on the ice today, Nick had a feeling Mike would show up at his hotel room door. His guess that the goalie would be pissed off at him was spot on, too.

  “Why the hell didn’t you go after Friesen?” Mike demanded as soon as the door closed behind him.

  It was a damn good question. Friesen had taken a cheap shot on Mike in the third period, and the injury forced him right out of the game. It was the kind of hit that would normally make Nick drop his gloves and lay into the guy’s face. But Jillian’s rules forbade him from fighting. “Not my job anymore.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Yeah, it was bullshit, but he just shrugged. He’d sucked it up and done his job killing penalties. Except it also meant he wasn’t on the first line to shut down Chicago’s top offensive players or protect Mike, which still burned hours after the final buzzer. But Jillian’s insistence that he focus less on the physical game and more on strategy had worked in other ways tonight. He’d earned two assists in his scant playing time, but they meant nothing since his teammates were left vulnerable and the scoreboard wasn’t in their favor.

  Mike exhaled, anger deflating when he realized he wasn’t going to get the fight he was looking for. “I don’t know what the hell Coach was thinking sticking you on the third line. It left us wide open. This shit with Liakos needs to end.”

  “We both know it’s not going to end until one of us is traded.”

  “You ever think about just apologizing?”

  The question made his skin itch. He was already charged up like a pipe bomb waiting to blow after tonight’s loss, but none of that was Mike’s fault. He was just stating what everyone else was already thinking. “Not a chance in hell.”

  Mike shook his head. “Yeah, I wouldn’t, either. Shit, I need to burn off some steam tonight. Luke said there are some eager fans at a pub nearby. You gonna join us?”

  Instinct brought the word “yes” to the tip of his tongue, but Jillian’s disappointed face flashed in his mind. “Can’t. My agent wants me to keep out of trouble for the next little while.”

  “Got you on a short leash?” Mike crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, showing the first sign of amusement since he showed up. “You know where to find us if you change your mind.”

  Unlike his teammate, Nick didn’t find anything funny about this. Jillian’s rules were suffocating. She’d taken away every single form of stress relief. He’d barely survived four weeks of repressing the growing urges inside him. How the hell was he supposed to get through three more months?

  Then again, these stupid rules were the only thing keeping Nick’s fists well out of reach of Liakos’s face. The worst part was that Liakos had actually played a decent game today, which only bolstered his overbearing attitude off the ice. Nick wasn’t the only one who had a problem with the kid—hell, he was pretty sure the punk had gotten into it with just about every other player on the team at this point. And every one of those players looked to the Punisher to deal with it. But Jillian’s rules prevented him from doing that.

  After Mike left, he stacked the white pillows on the king-size bed behind his back and flicked on the flat-screen TV to catch the remaining minutes of a West Coast game. His cell phone buzzed with a text from Jillian a few minutes later.

  Third line is bullshit. I’m already taking care of it.

  Instead of reassuring him, the text pissed him off.

  It wasn’t because he didn’t trust her to know what she was doing. The instant rush of blood to his dick just from seeing her name on his screen forced him to recognize what was really bothering him: she’d been acting cold and distant for the past month, since the stupid kiss.

  Now that he’d broken through her hard outer layer, he wanted her for more than her business acumen. He wanted her companionship. Hell, if he was being honest, he wanted her body, too, but she’d made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. Still, he deserved more than a quick text message designed to cut him off at the pass.

  Instead of giving in to the urge to smash his phone into the far wall of the room, he did something equally destructive. He dialed her number.

  “What’s the matter? Did something else happen?” It was the first time he’d heard her voice since Christmas. The sweet sound instantly sooth
ed the simmering rage inside his chest.

  “I’m lonely.”

  Seconds of silence passed. “Uh. . . what?”

  “It’s been thirty-four days since you barred me from having special visitors to my room, and I’m not in the mood to hang around with the guys without drinking my weight in beer to dull my frustration after tonight’s loss, especially since I can’t guarantee I won’t punch Liakos again. So now I’m stuck in a hotel room with nothing to do and I’m lonely.”

  “Is this where I’m supposed to ask what you’re wearing?” she responded tartly.

  He chuckled. “No, but you can tell me about how you’ve been these last few weeks. Like a friend would do.”

  Her drawn-out exhalation was audible through the phone. “We already talked about this.”

  “Actually, we didn’t. I kissed you and you ran away. There wasn’t any talking at all. And since you’re over seven hundred miles away and there’s no mistletoe in sight, there’s no danger of any kissing happening. So let’s talk. How was your weekend?”

  “It was . . . fine.”

  “Fine like you partied hard enough to be on a first-name basis with the NYPD and are too embarrassed to tell me the details? Or fine like you’ve started your own cat harem in your apartment and have since christened yourself Queen Purr?”

  She hesitated again and for a moment he thought she was going to refuse and hang up. “Fine like I officially declared my candidacy as a board member of the New York Association of Professional Sports Agents on Saturday. I had to give a speech to a room full of men who think women in this business should be seen and not heard.”

  “Ouch. Let me guess, you convinced them to change their minds pretty quickly?”

  “A few. But they can think whatever they want about me as long as they vote for me.”

  Relief washed through him like a cool wave. It was probably selfish of him to be happy she’d spent her weekend working instead of dating, but then again, she was the one who insisted he couldn’t have any female visitors to his hotel room until the end of the season. “Anyone who doesn’t vote for you is an idiot. But why do you want to be a part of that group of sexist leeches in the first place?”

  “Because I can make a real difference. Did you know our professional association has no internal, enforceable policies? Heck, we don’t even have a professional code of conduct! Any fool with a hundred bucks can register as an athlete agent. We rely entirely on the state to enforce the regulations, which almost never happens. If an athlete has a grievance, their only option is to sue, which is prohibitively expensive. There’s no reason we can’t do a better job of punishing the agents who break the rules and screw over athletes in the process.”

  “Tell me how you really feel.”

  She laughed softly, which made his chest tighten. He turned off the TV, way more interested in hearing her voice than the game. “I guess I get a little heated about this stuff. After what happened to my dad, it’s hard to keep my emotions out of it.”

  “I’m not making fun of you. I respect the hell out of you for it. That’s why I wanted you as my agent. I just don’t understand when you find time to sleep or have fun.”

  “Nor do I. But I love what I do.”

  He didn’t want the conversation to drift back to business. He liked learning about the sides of her that she kept hidden. He had a feeling she didn’t reveal them easily. “How was your New Year’s?”

  “It was nice. I nailed down a sunscreen endorsement deal for Jaime Chen.”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you work too hard?”

  “Most people aren’t dumb enough to piss me off like that. Besides, I did drink a mini bottle of champagne while I worked.”

  He chuckled, curling one knee up to his chest. “How risqué.”

  “What about you?”

  “Ben and I went out for Chinese and hung out with some of the guys at Luke’s place afterward.” Thinking about his brother, who’d since returned to Minnesota, really did make him feel a little bit lonely.

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It was. You could have joined us, you know.”

  He could practically feel her body stiffen through the phone. “How’s the team treating you? Anything else I should know about?”

  He knew if he said no, she’d end the call, so instead he told her the truth. “There was a little slipup with my hotel room, but I sorted it out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They didn’t have a room for me at first and the hotel was fully booked. The team manager told me it was an unfortunate error and that I’d have to double up with one of the rookies for the night.”

  “Why am I only hearing about this now? You need to call me immediately whenever something like that happens.”

  “Because I handled it. All it took was an autograph and a smile to get the front desk clerk to sort it out for me.”

  “I don’t care what your team manager says. That’s not an innocent mistake. The management is trying to piss you off so much that you actually want to leave.” The return of her cold, professional businesswoman voice left him reeling like a bad case of whiplash. He shouldn’t have pushed so hard. But at least he’d managed to get under her skin for a few minutes. One of these days, he’d find a way to open her up more. Get her to trust him. Not just treat him like a client.

  “Yeah, I kinda figured. But I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing it worked. Plus, you were busy reinventing your entire profession, remember?”

  “This is only going to escalate. We need a different strategy. A bolder one. I have an idea, but you need to trust me.”

  “All right.”

  “Good. Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

  “No. We play in Utah on Thursday and Coach is giving the team a few days to recover after that. We’re not back on the ice until Monday morning practice.”

  “Perfect. You’re not going to be lonely much longer. I’m going to meet you in Salt Lake City after your game.”

  “Why?” A million dirty thoughts popped into his head.

  “Because I just secured an endorsement deal for you, and the photo shoot is happening this weekend in LA.”

  “What’s it for? Reebok? Easton?”

  “Primal Man cologne.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “I don’t joke about business. They’ve done amazing things for the other celebrities who’ve fronted their past campaigns. You need the image overhaul and it’s not like any other sporting goods company is champing at the bit to hire you after Bauer dropped you like deadweight.”

  “Gee, thanks for the inspirational talk. My self-esteem is at an all-time high right now.”

  “You don’t need any ego stroking. You need me to meet with Joe Michalchuk on Friday.”

  What did Utah’s GM have to do with his image overhaul? “Why?”

  “Because we’re going to talk about a trade deal. It’s all a part of my strategy. We’ve got a lot of business to take care of in the next few days.”

  Nick leaned back against the headboard. Jillian might think her visit would be all about business, but he was starting to think it was time he came up with his own strategy for ways to spend the weekend together.

  “An entire weekend alone with Jillian? What’s the problem?”

  Nick leaned back against the headboard and tried to think of how he could explain it to his brother in a way Ben would understand. Despite the bullying he’d gone through as a kid, Ben had grown up to be the kind of guy who could strike up a conversation with anyone. It was just one of the many ways the brothers were different in spite of their near-identical looks. “I know she’s my agent, but—”

  “But you like her.”

  Nick huffed. “I’m not five years old.”

  “Obviously, because five-year-olds aren’t riddle
d with angst and embarrassed to admit they like someone.”

  Nick squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his finger into his temple, trying to stem a throbbing headache. The only way this conversation could get any more painful was if he were simultaneously undergoing a root canal. “This is stupid. She’s just a woman, and I don’t have trouble with women.” At least, he’d never had trouble with one before.

  Ben laughed. “She’s not just a woman. She’s a hell of a woman and you’re attracted to her for reasons other than her body.”

  “Hey, she has a really nice body,” Nick barked defensively, which made Ben laugh even harder.

  “I know. I have eyes, too. But it’s clear she’s gotten under your skin because of her brains. And because she doesn’t take any of your crap. You respect her and you like her.” Ben sighed. “Look, you didn’t exactly grow up to be Mr. Open Arms. You don’t let a lot of people into your circle of trust, but when you do, your loyalty is kind of terrifying. It’s why you’d risk your entire career by beating up Liakos for me. It’s also why you can’t imagine playing for another team even when the Vipers are treating you like crap. You’ve let Jillian into that elite group—or maybe she forced her way in. I don’t know, but either way, she’s in.”

  His pulse thumped an ominous beat as Ben’s words sank in. “So what do I do?”

  “You can start by telling me how you made her run away on Christmas and leave me with an entire molten lava cake to eat on my own.”

  “I kissed her.”

  “Did you kiss her badly?”

  “No! Christ, I might suck at a lot of stuff, but not that. She liked the kiss while it was happening. It was the after part that didn’t go so well.”

  “Probably because she was scared. You can be a bit intense.”

  “Can you skip the part where you list everything I’m doing wrong for the next two hours, and just tell me how to survive this weekend without alienating my agent and derailing my career?”