Game On (Hometown Players Book 6)

by Victoria Denault

  “So confide in him as a friend,” Len suggests. “He’ll definitely stop thinking of you as a spoiled, rich princess. And it will probably bring you closer. I mean your friendship.”

  She uses her fingers to make air quotes when she says “friendship.” Her not-so-subtle way of telling me she’s still holding out for some star-crossed lovers action. I give her yet another eye roll. She has a bit of a point. Telling Alex about my own foster care experience might change the way he sees me. But then again, it might make him resent me more. I got the life he was never offered. A safe home and loving parents.

  The lights dim and the crowd gets to its feet as the players funnel onto the ice, music blaring, fans cheering. I spend the entire game watching Alex. My eyes refuse to leave him whether he’s on the ice or sitting on the bench waiting for his shift. He looks incredible out there. He skates so fast and hits so hard. One minute he’s all aggression and the next the supportive, jubilant teammate, like when someone scores. By the time the game is over, the crush I’m not supposed to have on him is bigger. I really should not have come tonight.

  As the players leave the ice, he stays at the bench and finally turns toward us and waves and smiles at the group. His eyes sweep over our row but they stop short of meeting mine. I know it’s on purpose. He waves Len closer to the glass instead of me, which stings a little. Okay, a lot. She leans in and I pull out my phone and pretend I am checking texts or emails or something. Better than staring at him longingly while he ignores me.

  I look back up as I see Len straighten out of my peripheral vision. Alex is heading down the tunnel and Len is grinning as she turns to the kids. “You guys want to see the locker room?”

  There’s a resounding yes out of every single one of them. “Alex said we can come down. Follow me.”

  Len starts up the stairs to the main concourse. She’s so excited she’s bouncing more than walking. “I wonder if any of his teammates are single?”

  I laugh. “Len, this isn’t your own personal Tinder.”

  “Why not? Romance can strike anywhere.”

  She’s adorable in her wide-eyed optimism. I, on the other hand am feeling the burn from being ignored by Alex and am debating even going down with them to locker room. It stung enough being ignored by him with Plexiglas between us.

  Everyone piles into the elevator but I don’t move. Mackenzie looks at me, her face is so excited. She looks happier than I’ve seen her since I met her. I know if I don’t go with them it might disrupt this moment for her and I don’t want to do that so I step into the elevator.

  Len gives her name to the security guard standing in front of the steel door when we get off. He checks a list and then counts us and nods, opening the door. We’re suddenly in a long concrete curving hall and there’s another security guard smiling at us. He doesn’t take us to the locker room though; he puts us in a room with leather couches, big screen TVs and a long buffet table filled with fruit, chips and candy. Of course, every single one of the kids head straight for it.

  “Don’t go crazy just because it’s free!” Len calls out.

  “Mr. Larue will be here in a minute to start your tour,” the guard tells us and disappears. There’s a few other people in the room. Mostly beautiful modelesque woman who must be girlfriends. Although some are wearing giant rings so I assume they’re wives. A couple are chasing toddlers or holding babies. On a couch in the corner I recognize Rose from the party. She’s sitting with two other women.

  I walk over to say hi, hoping it’ll distract me from the uneasiness in my gut about facing Alex. She looks up as I approach and her face bursts into a smile as she stands. “Brie!”

  She pulls me into a hug. “Hi. Alex gave the kids at Daphne’s House tickets and I tagged along.”

  “That’s awesome.” Rose turns to the women she was sitting with. “These are my sisters, Callie and Jessie. Their husbands play on the team too.”

  “Wow!” I can’t help but blurt out. “That’s got to be uncommon, you all with hockey players on the same team.”

  “And Jessie and I married brothers,” Callie explains, adding to my shock. “So yeah, we’re definitely unique.”

  “Remember when I told you Luc had friends to live with growing up?” Rose says quietly. “It was the Garrisons, their husbands’ family, so he’s basically like a brother to their husbands too.”

  “It makes us seem kind of inbred or something, I know,” Jessie laughs.

  “No. I think it’s great. And sweet,” I tell her.

  “Rose has done nothing but talk about Daphne’s House since she went to that charity event,” Callie tells me. “You work there?”

  “I run it,” I explain and pause. “In fact, I created it.”

  “Well I’d love to know more about it,” Callie says. “And maybe see if I could volunteer somehow like Rose is going to do.”

  “We can arrange that,” I say and start to open my purse to pull out a business card but Rose interrupts.

  “Why don’t I have you over for dinner, with my sisters and Alex, and we can chat about it more?” she suggests. “We all live in Brooklyn. Callie can cook, she’s incredible at it.”

  I hesitate. I have no problem having dinner with these women. Rose has proven herself to be warm and genuine and her sisters seem to be exactly the same, but they want Alex there too. That part makes me unsure. Things are weird between us and it would be awkward to be at dinner with him. But Rose looks so excited and hopeful and it really could do the charity a world of good if they got onboard. Even after the fund-raiser we’re still short almost twenty thousand dollars of what we need to keep the place running, no thanks to me refusing to let that woman buy her date with Alex. Len and I have blitzed the local media with press releases, trying to garner some interest in getting an article or news segment on the charity but so far we haven’t heard back.

  “Sure,” I relent.

  Rose lets out a happy squeak. “Great! I’ll give you the details when I stop by tomorrow for my first GED class tomorrow.”

  She pulls me into a bear hug just as Alex appears in the doorway over her shoulder. He’s in a pair of shorts, flip-flops and a formfitting black athletic shirt. And what a form it is. The fabric embraces him like Saran Wrap. The broad expanse of his shoulders is on display along with the bulging curl of his biceps and the ripples his abs make. I didn’t think bodies that perfectly ripped actually existed. I thought they were all the product of Photoshop, at least a little bit. But seriously, even the best graphic designer couldn’t fake something this…gorgeous. His hair is damp with sweat and tousled. There’s a glow to his skin and his eyes are brighter, lighter; like the game brought him enough joy that it lightened the stormy color in them.

  This time he looks at me. It’s brief but somehow still has an intensity to it that I can feel. He must feel it too because he takes a breath so sharp I can see it and then he quickly turns his head to the buffet table. “Hey! Leave some snacks for the rest of us, eh?”

  I can’t help but smile at his use of the little Canadian “eh” that I haven’t heard in decades. The kids all turn and call out excited greetings, most walk toward him, but Mackenzie runs. For a quick second I think she might hug him, which would melt my heart, but she skitters to an abrupt halt half a foot in front of him and gives him a smile instead. “Hey, bud. Why didn’t you tell me you were all famous and junk?”

  Every adult in the room chuckles. Alex smiles at her and shrugs. “I’m not famous.”

  “Can I sell your autograph on eBay?” she questions.

  “Yeah. Probably.”

  “Then you’re famous,” she concludes and pauses before adding, “Can you sign something for me?”

  He reaches out and ruffles her hair. “Why don’t I give you guys a VIP tour of the place before you start your eBay business, Mac.”

  “It was nice meeting you,” I tell Jessie and Callie and give Rose another quick hug.

  As I walk across the room to join the others who are filing o
ut the door Rose calls, “I’ll see you tomorrow with dinner details!”

  I nod.

  Alex takes us into every single room. There are medical rooms and rooms filled with fancy workout equipment and a room with a hot tub and an ice bath and a room just for massages. Finally, we end in the locker room. He introduces us to the captain, Devin Garrison, and his brother, Jordan, who I know now are married to Rose’s sisters. They’re rugged, good-looking men and have a real, easygoing way with the kids, showing them around the room and answering all their questions, even the weird ones, like when Reg asks if it’s strange to shower together.

  Alex hasn’t spoken to me directly and he hasn’t made eye contact again. I’m beginning to feel that sting of rejection, which makes me annoyed with him but also with myself for letting him have that effect on me. When the tour is over, and Devin has given them each their own jersey, which I’m sure costs a fortune, I thank him profusely.

  “It’s nothing really,” he says and hands both me and Len a jersey as well.

  I turn to Alex as he walks us back to the elevator, Mackenzie glued to his side. “Thank you for this. It was beyond kind.”

  “Yeah. It’s nothing for me. Glad you enjoyed it,” he says lightly and shrugs, his eyes facing forward, still refusing to look at me.

  “Well, it was something big to the kids,” I tell him, trying not to sound hurt or angry, but I’m both. He’s the one who almost kissed me. Why is he making me feel bad about it? “Will you be by tomorrow?”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t tomorrow. I know I was scheduled, but something came up. I was hoping I could do the run I was planning with them on Saturday instead.”

  “What came up?” I can’t help but ask, even though it’s none of my damn business.

  He doesn’t like the question and his shoulders tense. “I told you when I signed up my volunteer times would have to be fluid due to my job.”

  “Yes. Because you have games. But you don’t have a game tomorrow,” I remind him but judging by the way his jaw flexes, he hasn’t forgotten.

  “I have a date, okay?” he barks out in a low growl of a whisper. It’s like a physical punch right to my solar plexus. I feel winded and when, a second later, I take a breath it feels like I’m filling my lungs with embarrassment, not oxygen.

  I glance ahead. The group is already at the elevator still talking excitedly about the night they just had. Somehow we’ve fallen behind. Just him and I. I’m grateful because that means no one heard our exchange.

  He sighs loudly. “Selena called to ask if it was okay if you held a raffle for the tickets that weren’t sold at the auction.”

  Shit. I told her I would handle that. She must have thought she was doing me a favor by calling him for me. He frowns down at me. “You shouldn’t have refused to give the winner the prize.”

  “I didn’t,” I reply. “I simply told her you weren’t part of the prize and she didn’t want it without you.”

  “You need that five grand,” he reminds me. “I had Selena give me Ms. Cameron’s contact information and I am meeting her for a lunch date tomorrow. She’ll also be supplying me with the check and I will be giving her the hockey tickets.”

  “Alex, I am not comfortable with—”

  “I’m not comfortable with Daphne’s House losing much needed funding because you’re trying to protect my honor,” he cuts me off and his voice drops into a low, penetrating whisper. “I’m not one of your kids. I don’t need protecting and my honor has long since been lost so just relax. I’m doing this.”

  He’s staring at me with this tortured look on his face, like he’s pained that he had to tell me his plans and convince me to let him do it. I’d love to chalk that up to his veracious need for privacy but it’s probably more about how I must be coming across like a schoolgirl with a crush. Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed.

  “Saturday it is. I’ll update the schedule. Good night.”

  “Brie. Wait!”

  I don’t wait. Mackenzie is looking at me quizzically as I usher her into the now open elevator with everyone else. “Wait!” she complains. “When will I see him again? Alex! When can we hang out?”

  “He’ll be by the Daphne’s on Saturday. You can swing by and hang out. But you’ll have to take his Learn to Run class,” I tell her and she groans at the running part.

  Alex says my name one more time just as the elevator doors close.

  Two hours later, Mackenzie is in bed and I’m trying to convince myself that it’s not too late to open a bottle of wine. It’s almost eleven thirty and I have to be up by seven. I could have one glass, to take the edge of embarrassment off, but then I’ll want two and probably three. And then I’ll have trouble being a cheery foster parent in the morning. Mackenzie, I’ve learned since she started having to get up for school, is not a morning person—and at least one of us should be.

  I’m staring longingly at my bottle of cabernet sauvignon when I hear a rapping sound. I turn from the wine rack to glance around the living room. I assume it’s Mackenzie, but as soon as I step out into the hall it happens again and I realize it’s coming from the front door.

  I’m startled and a little fearful. No one I know would drop by this late without texting or calling me first. I force myself to inch over to the door, softly, like they might hear me, which they wouldn’t…whoever they are. I stick my eye up to the peephole. It’s dark and he’s hunched over but I would know that strong jaw and those eyes anywhere.

  I crack open the door and our eyes connect and somehow residual embarrassment starts to flood my cheeks again. “You can see Mackenzie on Saturday. She’ll go to Daphne’s.”

  “I came to talk to you.”

  He reaches out and puts a hand flat against the middle of the door. He thinks I’m going to slam it in his face. I don’t. In fact, I let him step over the threshold and into my front hall. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

  I look up at him through my lashes, with my head still tilted down, humiliation still refusing to let me have any pride in this situation. “You’re allowed to switch your volunteer day, and it’s not my business why. Is that why you’re here? I apologize for overstepping. It won’t happen again. Have a good night.”

  He just stands there. He doesn’t move a inch, but somehow, he seems to take up more space in my narrow hall. His mood is darkening—intensifying—and that seems to be what’s taking up with space. He yanks a hand out of his pocket and scrubs his face with it. He opens his mouth, running his tongue along his full bottom lip, but then he doesn’t speak. Is he really going to make this even more uncomfortable for me?

  “What do you want from me?” I blurt out, aggravated.

  “I’m not going to sleep with that woman.” I look up at him and he’s staring with a look of intense discomfort on his ruggedly handsome face. He’s completely out of his comfort zone, being raw and honest with someone, but he’s forcing himself to do it. “Sex is just a way to have a good time. It’s not emotional or deep for me and trust me, I know that’s all this woman wants—a naked good time. I don’t have a problem with it, but you do and that matters to me.”

  I don’t know how to react to that confession. I’m so confused by the emotions inside me it’s frustrating. I cross my arms angrily, but I also sigh in defeat. “If it’s what you want to do, just do it. I don’t want to stop you from being you. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to fuck someone to get money for my charity.”

  I didn’t mean to be so crass but I guess I’m just feeling as raw and emotional as he is and I’m sick of not showing it. He tilts his head slightly to the side, like he’s trying to decipher something and then he says in that same low, penetrating voice he used earlier at the arena. “I don’t want to fuck her. And it’s because of you, but not just because I don’t want to upset you. It’s because I like the way you look at me lately and I like the way it feels when I look at you and when we talk and I don’t want to lose that.”

  Those dark blue eyes that always se
em to be swirling with some unexpressed emotion are as tumultuous as ever. Looking into them as he scans my face is like staring into the eye of a tornado. I don’t feel unsafe, but I feel uncertain. I have no idea what’s going to happen next. And of all the thoughts running through my head at lightning speed, not one of them was the idea that he would step closer, standing so close that our bodies touched. But that’s what he does.

  I feel dizzy and off-balance so I try to take a step back, but suddenly his arm is around my waist. His embrace is strong, urgent and heats me from the inside. The blush of humiliation on my cheeks is turning to the heat of lust. I grip his biceps just like I did yesterday, only today it’s not for balance, it’s because I want to make sure he doesn’t pull away this time.

  He dips his head and tilts it, brushing his lips against my cheek either by accident or on purpose. It causes a ripple of desire to quiver down my spine. God, I hope it was on purpose. “I want things from you I shouldn’t want. You have a boyfriend.”

  “I don’t,” I reply my voice a quaking whisper. “Victor and I broke—”

  I stop before the last word because his lips are brushing mine now. It’s not a kiss but it’s so close; it’s both soothing and painful. His eyes flutter closed, his breathing gets shallow, but his grip on my waist starts to ease. I tighten my grip on his arms. And then I whisper strongly, “Do it.”

  His eyes open and then his lips are brushing mine again but instead of just ghosting by, they stop. I rock up onto my toes and his arm around my waist tightens, our torsos press roughly against each other and his mouth opens. The first feel of his tongue against mine makes me whimper and that seems to break him free of his hesitation. The kiss is nothing short of monumental. He’s rough and wild—claiming me with abandon, his tongue searching, his lips pushing, his hand slipping to my ass as I circle his neck and tangle my fingers into his hair. But then there’s a sound upstairs. A toilet flushing. And he’s gone so quickly that I’m left wondering if I just had a hallucination. The door is wide open, the hallway is empty and there’s nothing but cold air and a dark empty New York street. I step onto my stoop. He’s already halfway down the block.