Not going to fucking happen, and it had nothing to do with setting up one of the guys with this chick I didn’t know, even though that wasn’t something I would ever do in a million years.
But fuck if I couldn’t get the thought of taking Dani on a date out of my head, even though I should be concentrating on the new defensive systems our head coach, Mattias “Bergy” Bergstrom, wanted to institute this season. He and the other coaches were up at the front of the room, and he was marking up the white board, lines and arrows going every which way to tell us what he wanted us to do. I didn’t hear a fucking word. This didn’t bode well for my state of mind.
“Right,” Bergy said after a few more minutes. “That’s it for today. We’re going to put that into practice on the ice tomorrow, so be ready for it. Goalies, Jacks wants a word in the locker room before you head home for the day. And I need the defense to stay put where you are. Jim’s on his way down for a brief meeting.”
Levi “501” Babcock groaned and dropped lower in his seat next to me, like he could hide from the Eye of the Storm cameras that were currently trained on us. But there was no hiding from the cameras. The series was back in full swing now that we’d reported for the season, and there wasn’t any escaping them. Hell, they’d even outfitted most of us with microphones as soon as we’d come in this morning. Nothing like going through the weigh-in and fitness tests with the whole world watching. “What the hell is Jim coming in for?” 501 muttered as the forwards and goaltenders got up and headed out, leaving only the defensemen and coaches behind.
Good question. Jim Sutter was the general manager. Today was only the first day of training camp, so I doubted he’d already be making cuts and sending the prospects back to their junior clubs or whatever. If he’d made a trade, he’d want to talk to the player one-on-one, not in a group setting like this. I didn’t have the first clue where this was headed, but I didn’t think it would be good.
Then I made the mistake of catching Webs’s eye, and I wished I could sink lower in my seat like 501 had without looking like a chickenshit. Dani’s father’s glare had only seemed to intensify as the day had gone on, practically melting me from the heat of it.
Jim didn’t keep us waiting for long. He breezed into the room in a full suit, as always, his bifocals perched on top of his head. His assistant, Rachel Campbell—a petite redhead who happened to be married to one of my teammates—wasn’t with him. I took that as a good sign. Anytime she tagged along, toting a stack of manila folders, it always meant something was happening right then. Without her presence, I figured we were all safe.
At least for the time being.
He took a look around the room before talking, catching each of our eyes with his typical kind smile. There were fifteen defensemen present at training camp. Only seven or eight would make the cut—and since there were about that many of us currently on one-way contracts, most of us were relatively confident about where we’d end up this season. The big questions were whether Jens would finally be cleared to play again and, if not, which prospect might get a chance to be the eighth defenseman, or the first call-up from the minors.
There’d have to be a damn good reason for Jim to bury one of those big contracts they’d handed out to the veterans in the minors. It had happened before and could happen again, but it wasn’t likely.
“So here’s where we stand,” Jim said, leaning back against the folding table at the front of the room. “Jensen still hasn’t been cleared by the doctors to play because of the concussion he suffered last season. We don’t know when—or if—Jens will be cleared this season, so we have to prepare to go into battle without him.”
Every guy in the room was already aware of that, Andrew Jensen more than anyone. He was here for the meetings and whatnot. Trying to keep himself up to speed with the team, even though he still wasn’t allowed to work out, let alone get on the ice. He was doing everything possible to make himself feel like part of the team, despite the fact that when a guy was injured long-term like he was, he tended to feel like anything but.
He was sitting a row ahead of me and a few seats over, and I couldn’t help but angle my head to see his reaction. Stone-faced. No reaction at all. I tried to put myself in his shoes, but it left me feeling sick to my stomach. What if the guy never got cleared to play again? Concussions had ended plenty of careers before. He definitely wouldn’t be the first if that was what ended up happening to him. I hoped like hell that wasn’t going to be his fate, and I wouldn’t allow myself to imagine it becoming mine.
“I want everyone in this room to be clear on where things stand,” Jim continued, dragging my thoughts back to the present. “Because even though I love how this team is shaping up for the coming season, and I think we have a heck of a chance at winning the Stanley Cup, I can’t just look at this season. It’s my job to look ahead to next season and the one after that and the one after that.”
Instantly, my blood froze in my veins. Because my contract only went through this season, and I wouldn’t delude myself into thinking I was a shoo-in for the team’s long-term outlook, no matter how much I wanted to be.
Jim’s kind eyes settled on a few of the veterans before he continued, landing on mine and then Burnzie’s and then Colesy’s. “The truth is, our defense is one of the oldest in the league, and this is a young man’s league. And if you look around this room, you can see we have some damned fine prospects knocking at the door for their chance. You all saw each other out on the ice today. You know they’re breathing down your necks, ready to stake their claims as soon as they can. And it wouldn’t be very responsible of me and the coaching staff to hold them back. We’re not going to do that.”
“So what exactly are you saying, Jim?” Hammer asked. Chris Hammond was the oldest guy on the team, a tried-and-true, stay-at-home, third-pairing defenseman. He was a hell of a leader and as steady a presence on the blue line as anyone in the league, but no one could deny he probably only had another year or two left in the tank. Professional hockey was hard on a body, no matter how hard that body might be.
“Just this,” Jim said, his expression both serious and kind at once. “We’re going to start the season with seven defensemen on the roster and Jens on injured reserve. Training camp will determine which seven those will be. But I’m not going to make any promises that we’ll keep those same seven guys all season long. If one of those seven isn’t playing as well as he needs to be, I have other bodies I can bring in. If other teams come with a good offer, I’m going to listen. I have to. Because no matter how ready we think our prospects may be, until they get on the ice in a real NHL game, and not just an exhibition game, we won’t know if they really are or if we’re just assuming they are. And we always have to be looking forward.”
Right. So in other words, none of us should get too comfortable.
Well, 501 was probably safe. He was the youngest regular D, and a kid who was starting to come into his own finally, one of the puzzle pieces they were hoping to build around for the future. But the rest of us? We were on the wrong side of thirty, and in this league, that wasn’t a good thing. I might be at the prime of my career, but that meant things would start heading downhill soon.
I should never have let my agent talk me into signing that bridge contract a few years ago. I should have held out for the long-term deal, even if it meant taking less money overall. Because now, I was a prime candidate for the chopping block at the worst possible time.
Jim said a few more things, none of it sinking into my brain because I’d already gotten caught up in a tailspin, and I couldn’t see my way out of it. I only realized he was done talking because the rest of the guys around me started to get up and head for the locker room so they could change and head for home.
But then I wished I’d been paying better attention. Because if I had been, I could have slipped out first. Before Webs could snag me.
Too late.
“We had a deal, Harry,” he said, coming up beside me as I tried to leave. H
is voice was low enough no one else would hear.
I stopped in my tracks. This wasn’t something I could just run away from. Besides, I’d never been a runner. I faced things head on in life, so that was what I had to do now. Slowly, I turned so I could see his angry blue eyes—the same eyes as Dani, damn it all—boring into me. “I’m trying to keep that deal,” I said, and it was the God’s honest truth. I only wished he would believe me, even though there wasn’t any chance of that happening.
“You’re not trying hard enough.”
There was no stopping the massive sigh that left my lips. “She’s the one who found me the other night, not—”
“She was on your lap,” he cut in.
“Yeah, because she sat down there. I didn’t invite her, and as soon as she did it, I got up and left.” I didn’t have the first clue who had filled him in. Probably someone who didn’t mean any harm, but they just didn’t understand how much harm this could cause. Hell.
“And she left with you,” Webs grumbled.
“Not by my invitation.” Which was a feeble excuse, considering I’d dragged her into the house next door and finger fucked her to a goddamned screaming orgasm that I hadn’t been able to get out of my head in all the time since then. I could only hope Webs didn’t know about that part.
He didn’t give me any sign that he did, at least. He just gave me a full-on death glare, staring for so long that I was amazed I didn’t evaporate on the spot. “Stay away from my little girl,” he finally said. “Don’t be an asswipe, Harry.”
How many times had I heard him say that exact thing to Babs over the years? Too many to count, that was for sure. But I couldn’t delude myself into thinking that Webs would soften up to the idea of me being with his youngest daughter the way he had with Babs and Katie. The fact was, I wasn’t Babs, and Dani wasn’t Katie, and whatever was happening between the two of us couldn’t be further from what had gone on between the two of them. There wasn’t any true comparison here.
“Any suggestions on how I can keep her away from me?” I shot back. “Because I’m doing everything I can, and it’s not working. You should know Dani is as determined as they come.”
He laughed, which I wasn’t expecting. “Yeah, she is. So you’re just going to have to be more determined than she is. Because you’re not good for her and you know it, so figure out how to keep her away from you. Seriously, don’t be an asswipe, Harry. Just don’t.”
I did know it. All too well. Dani Weber was as free-spirited as they came, filled with a pure love of life that seeped out of her pores, infecting everything and everyone around her. She was laughter personified.
The last thing she needed was to get caught up in all my control issues. I’d only drag her down a path she had no business traveling.
Fuck.
YEAH, SO I might have been peeking through the blinds as I worked to see when Jamie got home so I’d know when Harry was likely to be home. And I might have quickly put all my work away and taken out my phone to play Pokémon Go on my own, even though I thought it was the stupidest game in the history of ever. It gave me an excuse to get out of the house and go walking past Harry’s. Sue me. A girl can’t help it if she’s slightly obsessed with a gorgeous hunk of blue-eyed, ginger-haired man meat.
His car wasn’t in the driveway when I got there, but he had a garage, so that didn’t mean he wasn’t home. I tried to peek through the windows for signs of his presence, but I couldn’t make anything out unless I wanted to poke around in his bushes like a total stalker. I wasn’t a real stalker, only a pseudostalker, so that was probably a bad idea. The neighbors might not understand the difference, and I didn’t need to tempt someone to call the cops on me. Stupid mini-blinds and curtains. Probably a better idea to just ring the doorbell.
So that was what I did.
Color me surprised that he answered right away. He was still in athletic shorts and a sleeveless Under Armour shirt that he’d probably been wearing in the gym, and he had his phone pressed to his ear. The phone call was probably why he hadn’t bothered to check the peep hole before opening the door—something he clearly felt was a mistake, since he was about to wave me in before a look of sheer annoyance crossed over his features.
He held up a finger, as if to ask me for a minute. I nodded, but then he acted like he was going to shut the door on me. Oh, hell no. That wasn’t going to happen. I’d had more than enough of him shutting me out and running away from me for one lifetime, thank you very much. I squeezed past him and headed for the couch, ignoring his resigned sigh.
After closing the door behind me, he walked into the kitchen, barely sparing me a glance. “So Shelby really hated the place that bad?” he asked, sounding pained.
I took a seat and made myself comfortable, tugging my top down just a bit more to give him a view of my rack when he came back. Earlier, I’d put on a slinky, silky low-cut shirt and an A-line skirt that was short enough to give him a nice view of my legs. And yeah, I had on a sexy push-up bra and thong combo underneath, too. Because I meant business tonight.
A healthy dose of cleavage and a view of my thighs should be enough to convince him to forgive me for barging in without an invitation again, and if that didn’t do the trick, I wasn’t above taking the shirt off completely. As a matter of fact, I was hoping we’d take off a hell of a lot more than just my top before too much time passed, but we had to start somewhere.
“No, I don’t want to put him somewhere like that, either,” Harry said. “Not if we can help it.” He banged a cabinet door in the kitchen like he needed to do something to release his frustrations.
I had a few suggestions for him in that regard. A good boinking made for a great release of tension, and I was ready and willing to help him out in any way he required.
But he was still banging cabinet doors, even though there were far better options at his disposal if he would only take advantage of them. “Let me know how it goes tomorrow. And I found another possibility, too. Cumberland Center. I’ll email you both the link so you can check the place out.” Then he fell silent for what felt like a charged minute. “Yeah. I know. I just hate that I’m not there to help. Love you, kiddo.”
That last bit definitely caught my attention, mainly because the only one I wanted to hear him say something like that to was me. Only I didn’t want him calling me kiddo. There were multiple nicknames that’d be better: sexy mama, baby doll, sugar tits… I could go on.
But who was he talking to? One of his sisters, maybe? Probably. My recon told me he had two of them, both younger than him. Which meant that was probably who was on the other end of the line, and therefore I had no business being jealous. I just needed to redirect his attention once he hung up so it’d be on me.
I couldn’t deny that a green-eyed monster had taken up residence in my chest, though, when I heard him say those words to someone other than me. Which meant I had it worse than I’d realized.
All the more reason I would convince him to go along with my plans.
He banged the cabinet doors around a bit more before coming out, looking as pissed off and frustrated as I’d ever seen him before. Well, a good boinking was definitely in order. And I intended to be sure he got it.
“What the hell are you doing here again, Dani?” he demanded, standing there with his arms crossed and his feet planted and generally looking like sex personified. His arms were bare in that shirt, and oh my God did I want to lick them. The definition of his biceps and triceps and all the other -ceps he had in there was downright drool-worthy.
But I needed to figure out exactly which buttons to push. I’d managed it well enough Saturday at Jamie’s party, but since then I hadn’t gotten him to budge. “Just thought I’d see how your first day of training camp went,” I said, trying to pull off a nonchalant vibe I wasn’t feeling in the slightest. I shrugged in a way that I knew would perk up my tits—and sure enough, his eyes followed before returning to glare at me. “And maybe see if you’d figured out who would be going
on our double date with Bea. Because I’m going to have her dress ready—”
“You need to leave,” he cut in.
Oh, hell no. He wasn’t getting rid of me that easily. “Somewhere you need to be?” I asked sweetly. “Because I can come with you.”
“Somewhere I can’t be,” he muttered beneath his breath. But then he leveled me with a determined midnight stare. “You can’t come with me. And you can’t keep coming over like this.”
“Why? Because you’re so scared of my father?” There was no stopping the massive eye roll I gave him, because good grief, enough already! I was sick and tired of Harry letting my father get in the middle of whatever we had going. Dad had no business being in the middle of us, and I refused to allow it any longer. I crossed my arms and gave Harry a glare of my own. “You were around the whole time Jamie and Katie were dancing around each other. I’d think you’d realize by now that Dad’s all bark and no bite. He’ll yell and intimidate and try to scare guys off, but in the end, he just wants his kids to be happy. And maybe he’s just trying to make guys prove they’re worthy of us or something, that they’re determined enough to stick around when he’s threatening to chop their balls off. I honestly don’t know what it’s all about, but it doesn’t matter.”
“That’s just it. It does matter, because this is my career we’re talking about.”
“Oh good gravy, seriously? My father is just one of the coaches. He’s not the GM. He’s not even the head coach. Hell, he doesn’t handle the defense, so there’s not anything he—”
“They’re looking for reasons to trade defensemen this season, Dani,” he cut in again, letting out a sound of pure exasperation. Damn if he wasn’t hot when he’d had it up to his eyeballs with me. He was always hot, and I was always hot and bothered when I was around him—something he was surely aware of. “We’re getting older and slower, and there are plenty of prospects ready to make the jump. They’ve already got more than enough reasons to get rid of me. I can’t hand them another on a silver platter, all wrapped up with a bow. Especially not with what your father already knows.” As soon as he said that, he looked like he wished he could take the words back.
Defensive Zone Page 7
