Table of Contents
Want to know when Book 7 comes out?
Drew
Kira
Did You Like Seductive Suspensions?
Acknowledgments
Also by Heather C. Myers
Seductive Suspensions
A Slapshot Novella
Heather C. Myers
Contents
1. Drew
2. Kira
3. Drew
4. Kira
5. Drew
6. Kira
7. Drew
8. Kira
9. Drew
10. Kira
11. Drew
12. Kira
13. Drew
14. Kira
15. Drew
16. Kira
17. Drew
18. Kira
19. Drew
20. Kira
Want to know when Book 7 comes out?
Did You Like Seductive Suspensions?
Acknowledgments
Also by Heather C. Myers
Also by Heather C. Myers
Also by Heather C. Myers
Also by Heather C. Myers
Also by Heather C. Myers
Also by Heather C. Myers
1
Drew
This was bullshit.
I played nine hundred and thirty games for the NHL over a twelve-year career and I had never missed a game. Not for illness, not because of an injury, and not because of a suspension.
Until now.
I was a good player. Classy was the word many commentators called me. Professional was another. I had been up for a Lady Bing trophy three times throughout my career. I was a gentleman on the ice. I rarely fought, and for the most part, I kept my temper in check.
Last night, during an intense battle against our cross-town rivals, I checked Simon Kerchuck. It was a late hit, I knew that. I was okay with the interference call I got during the game. I skated over to the box myself and sat out my two minutes.
When I heard the Player Safety wanted to review the hit however, I started to worry. I rewatched the play multiple times, slowed down, from all angles. I never left my feet and Kerchuck turned into the hit, crouched low, trying to get the puck for himself. It was the only reason why my shoulder clipped his chin. It wasn’t my intention to go for the hit, and it certainly wasn’t my intention to hit him late
But that was what had happened, and there was nothing I could do about it. I just hoped they would take my history into consideration.
A day later, I had my answer. They didn’t.
I was suspended for two games. Two games. I could understand a fine. The hit was late, and whether it was intentional or not, I did hit Kerchuck’s face. Suspending me for two games though implied that I was being dirty on purpose.
Rose tried to comfort me as best she could. It didn’t work. I appreciated her efforts, but I needed to be alone. I grabbed my golden retriever, stuck on his leash, and headed out of our condo and right onto the beach. I needed some time to myself to clear my head. Rose didn’t like it. I knew she took it personally no matter what I told her, but I didn’t want to say something stupid and then have us get into a fight.
We had been fighting a lot lately and I hated it. The best thing I could do was remove myself from the situation, so I wouldn’t make things worse between us.
I took Simba out all the way to the pier before jogging home. The expensive houses were built up rather than out because land was so hard to obtain right on the beach. Some of these places could net four figures a week, especially during the summer. And why not? These places had seven bedrooms, a patio barbecue on the roof, luxury living with a beautiful view. I made an envious salary but I was happy with my condo on the beach. Three bedrooms, two-stories, a two-car garage... and lots of space for my dog, Simba
By the time I got home, the sun was setting. I had been out a good few hours, purposefully leaving my cell phone connected to its charger. I didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. I’d rather go running, forget about everything and everyone until I was ready to face them. I didn’t want the pity or the anger. I wasn’t ready for the questions. I realized that made me selfish, perhaps even immature, but I didn’t particularly care. I was allowed to mourn something only three other people in the entire NHL had ever managed to accomplish.
When I got home, Rose was in the kitchen, cooking. I could smell the grilled chicken and felt my stomach rumble. I was hungry.
“Hey,” I said, walking over to her after pulling off the leash and letting Simba run over to his bowl of dog food.
I came up behind her and kissed her bare shoulder. The last bit of sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, making Rose’s dark hair light brown for just a fleeting moment. She tensed under my touch, something I had never seen from her before. She had to know it was me; Simba’s heavy breathing gave us away.
“Hey,” she said, her voice low. She stopped chopping up the lettuce for the homemade salad she was currently preparing.
I waited. I knew what that meant. It was one word paired with a low voice and a tense back. It was eyes that wouldn’t meet mine and shoulders hunched forward.
“Are you okay?” It probably wasn’t the best question to ask a woman who clearly was not okay, but I didn’t know what else to say... and I knew I had to say something.
“We need to talk.”
Fuck me.
“I don’t want to break up,” she quickly said. “I just want to know what’s going on with you. Granted, I know you’re upset about the suspension, and you have every right to be. It’s just not healthy for you to close up and run off though. At least tell me you won’t have your phone, so I don’t freak out when I can’t reach you.”
“What was so important that you needed to call me?” I asked. I hoped my voice didn’t come across as arrogant or uncaring. I did care. I did... but I just didn’t want to deal with this right now. Later, absolutely, but the timing was all wrong.
“That’s not the point,” she said. She was snippy, but I could tell she wasn’t trying to be. Rose was never one to have attitude or to instigate issues. She was actually the perfect girlfriend... for the most part. “Something really important happened to me yesterday, but I’ve been holding off on telling you because I don’t want to be insensitive to what you’re going through. Doctor Border called and I got the part of Doctor Lisa Maddy.”
“That’s great, Rose,” I told her, and I meant it.
“The only problem is, Drew,” she said, her voice hesitating, “it films in Vancouver. Shooting starts in August, but we have read throughs in July. I know you’ll be able to come with me until mid-August but I’m out there full-time until spring.”
“I know,” I said.
“And I would never, ever make you choose between hockey and me,” she continued. “I know how much you love the sport and I would never put you in that position. But...”
There was a but. Of course there was a but.
She lifted her brown eyes off the floor so she could lock them with mine.
“Andrew, I’m nearly thirty,” she said. “I want a family and I have so few precious years in order to better ensure a healthy pregnancy - for the most part. I could do long-distance - we’ve done it before - but not without the expectation that we get married and start having children. Soon.”
Fuck me.
2
Kira
It was so weird attending a game Drew Stefano was not playing in.
The Newport Beach Seagulls were scheduled to play the Seattle Sounders. It was the week before the big AllStar Game and there were two games before the break. This meant Stefano wouldn’
t play until after the break, which meant a week off the ice. He would only be able to attend that masquerade party the Gulls always put on this weekend before the break.
It was a Thursday game. Seattle was visiting. They were good this year. I wouldn’t be surprised if they made the playoffs - they usually did. It was a division rivalry game so there was a chippy edge to it. That was what made Drew Stefano so fun to watch against them; Seattle was typically a big team, while Stefano was fast. It wasn’t surprising to see Stefano skating circles around the team. He usually played well against them, earning at least a point.
My three girlfriends and I all put in for season tickets together in the two hundred section. We got seats next to each other so we were in the second row from the glass in the section where our goalie - Brandon Thorpe - defended twice. It wasn’t in the center, it was closer to the edge of the circle portion of the ice rink. Stefano was one of my favorite players and one of the reasons why I wanted seats so close to the glass. He was the fastest skater in the NHL, even at thirty-one. A couple of the younger rookies would probably take the title from him this year, but I didn’t care.
“I’m going to grab some popcorn,” I announced to my girlfriends after we settled in front of the glass, about five minute before warmups began.
I headed to the concession stand right outside our section. My debit card was in my jean pocket, ready to buy my food, probably my second favorite thing next to hockey.
I texted my friends as I waited in line. Kyle Underwood, my second favorite player, was doing stretches and they were taking pictures for me and sending them to me via text with hilarious messages. By the time it was my turn to order, I only had a moment to figure out what it was I wanted.
A hand waved me over and I recited my usual order - popcorn, water, and m&ms - in my head, before I stood in front of Drew freaking Stefano.
I blinked, not quite believing it was really him. When I opened them again, there he was, in a sharp suit, looking at me with his warm brown eyes, moving his mouth.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.
His lips quirked up, but I could see there was slight impatience glimmering in his eyes before it disappeared and was replaced by... was that recognition? As in, he knew who I was? Probably because I was in the second row for every game.
“I said,” he repeated, his voice tainted with a slight Canadian accent even though he had been with Newport for the past six years of his career and had gone to college to play hockey for the University of Michigan. “What can I get for you?”
“Oh.” I blinked. “Um, can I get a popcorn, a water bottle, and a box of m&ms? Please?”
He gave me a small smile that made my heart jump.
Drew Stefano was gorgeous in a subtle way. He wasn’t tall. If I had to guess, I would say he wasn’t taller than five foot ten - and he was lean. Muscled but not bulky. His size was one of the reasons why he was the fastest skater in the NHL.
He wore a fitted charcoal suit with a blue collared shirt tucked into matching slacks. His dark hair was styled so that his subtle Italian curls were contained.
He grabbed everything quickly and rang me up. I gave him the cash I carried and watched as it took him a few moments longer then experienced cashiers might have taken. That was okay though; I enjoyed watching him, the strong jaw, the small chin, the sweeping cheekbones.
I grabbed my stuff, prepared to head back to my seat and tell my friends what happened, when he stopped me.
“I see you at every game,” he said. I could tell he was hesitant in talking to me, which I understood. There was a decent line behind me and I was sure people in front of the line recognized Stefano and wanted to be helped by him. “Your family have season tickets?”
I shook my head, clutching my fingers around the cool water bottle. “No,” I told him. “I do, though.”
His eyebrows shot straight up in surprise, but there was approval glinting in his eyes. The more I stared into them, the more I realized they were a honey color.
“Listen,” I said, “this isn’t any of my business, and I’m sure you’ve gotten this a lot, but your suspension was absolute bullshit. Regardless of your non-violent history or your impressive iron man streak, the fact of the matter was you didn’t intentionally hit Kerchuck in the head. It wasn’t a vicious play. Maybe a fine, sure... but two games is bullshit.”
I felt myself flush when I finished. I probably overstepped my bounds and made myself look like an asshole. Part of me didn’t care. I wanted him to know it, even though I was certain I wasn’t the first person to tell him this.
“Anyway,” I forced myself to say, and with my hands filled with food, I nodded my head to home. “Thanks for your help. I look forward to seeing you on the ice soon.”
I didn’t want to wait to hear him respond. I wasn’t sure what he would say, if he was going to say anything at all, but the game was going to start… and I had said what I needed to, so I was okay.
The entire way to my section, I could swear I felt a pair of eyes on my back.
3
Drew
I shouldn’t have spoken to her at all. I had a serious girlfriend, who lived with me. We had been together for five years. I loved her more than I loved anyone else.
Kira was just a fan, who had good season tickets that I happened to notice during warm-ups. Yes, she was beautiful, but that was all I knew about her... and that certainly wasn’t enough to throw away something good that I’d had for five years.
There was something about her though, something I couldn’t control. I was drawn to her and I didn’t understand why. When I saw her at the concession counter, I couldn’t help but talk to her - more than what I should have under normal circumstances. Just because I was suspended didn’t mean I couldn’t be utilized for the fans’ enjoyment. It was Katella Hanson’s idea that I help out at the concession stand in my suit with an apron over it. It put a positive spin on something negative and might make this suspension bearable.
I recognized her immediately. Her blonde hair was straight and pulled into a high ponytail. She wore a green plaid shirt and skinny jeans with knee-high flat boots. Her face was left natural - mascara and lipgloss with a bit of eyeliner to make her hazel eyes pop out - but there was a warmth to it that I couldn’t help stare at. A smattering of light freckles was sprinkled across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She looked young - like she had just graduated from high school - but I was positive she was older than she looked.
When she came up to order, she didn’t recognize me until after she picked her eyes up from her phone to actually look at me. Then this adorable blush swept across her features in pink and I couldn’t stop staring at that, either.
We talked, and I smiled. I didn’t smile often, not because I was unhappy but just because I didn’t really smile. I smiled with her though... and I found myself looking forward to interacting with her again.
I probably wouldn’t see her until next Tuesday - if I saw her at all. Who knew if Katella would assign me this specific concession stand again for next game? I was positive Kira wasn’t going to be at the auction this weekend... not because she wasn’t rich or couldn’t fit in, but more because she didn’t seem like the type of girl who liked dressing up or going out.
I met Rose in the press box for the duration of the game. She looked beautiful - she always did - hair swept back from her face, makeup flawless. She had on a Gulls hoodie and jeans, high tops on her feet. The very essence of casual-chic.
During the game, she was on her phone. I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t playing and she wasn’t interested in hockey unless I was involved somehow.
I didn’t mind. I was silent as I watched the game from so high up. My eyes kept looking for Kira, though.
I shouldn’t be looking for another woman when I was with my girl... except Rose wasn’t exactly my girl. She was my girlfriend and she wanted to be more than that. She wanted to be my wife.
That was someth
ing I just st couldn’t give to her. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I didn’t know if I wanted to get married. And yes, maybe it was unfair to string Rose along for all of these years, but she knew how I felt about getting married. I didn’t know if she stuck around because she hoped I would change my mind or if she liked the perks that came along with being with a professional hockey player.
We watched the game in silence. We were comfortable with each other. I never asked her who she was on the phone with, knowing it was probably one of her friends. There was still tension between us, tension I wanted to fix but didn’t know how. Her new television show was set to start shooting in the summer, which was a few months away. I could be out there during that time, but I couldn’t stay out there during the fall, not when hockey season started back up again. I also couldn’t pressure her to stay, either. This was her goal, to be on a hit television show. I wasn’t about to pressure her to pick one or the other.
However, I also knew she was at the age where she wanted to settle down and have children. I respected the fact that women had a biological clock and it was only natural when it started to tick. I just didn’t think I was ready to have kids. I didn’t think I was ready to settle down.
The game ended and I shook hands with our announcers, Swayze and Walker, before heading back down and out of the stadium. I didn’t want to admit that I had been trying to locate Kira and her friends before we headed out. There was no sign of them though, which was just as well.
Seductive Suspensions A Slapshot Novella Page 1
