Power Play: The Nashville Assassins: Next Generation

by Aleo, Toni

  And I was trying real hard not to fight with her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Her face is scrunched up, as if she has eaten something sour. “What was his reasoning for not returning your feelings? It makes no sense. You’re amazing, smart, and way too pretty for him. So please, explain to me what he thought was wrong, because I want to kick his ass.”

  Okay, maybe I won’t fight with her. I smile a bit as I shrug. “He said I wasn’t his type. He thought of me as a sister.”

  She rolls her eyes, quite dramatically. “What a cum dumpster—”

  I snort loudly. “What the hell? Cum dumpster? That’s new.”

  “I know. Funny, huh?” She giggles to herself. “Anyway, he totally is one. He just couldn’t handle that you’re way more talented than he is. And not his type? He’s lucky someone like you wanted him.” She comes to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and hugging me tightly. “You’re too good for him. I promise you that.”

  I lean into her. We’re sisters, we fight, but I love her. God, I love her. “He had Stella there.”

  She leans back, looking at me with wide eyes. “No way.”

  “Yeah, so it’s hard to feel like I’m too good for him when she’s there.”

  She glares. “Stella is perfect in her own right, but so are you. Don’t let that get to you. So, he has a type. Who cares. There is someone out there way better and who will worship you—the amazing, gorgeous, smart you.”

  “And pleasantly plump.”

  “Hey, more cushion for the pushin’,” she says with a wink, and I grin.

  “Thanks, Shelli,” I say, and she kisses my cheek. “Really. I needed this.”

  She waves me off. “I love you, and if you’d listened to me, this embarrassing trip wouldn’t have happened. But then…you might have left this job for him. So, you know what? Good thing we got that out of the way. Now we shall find someone else for you. Aiden has tons of friends, and word on the street is Asher is coming home.”

  I make a face as she waggles her brows at me in a cartoonish way. “And?”

  “He’s hot. You can so hook up with him.”

  I shake my head. I’m not the only one who got my heart broken in the last six months. Aiden’s younger brother proposed to his girlfriend, only to find out she realized she was a lesbian. Since he has a penis, that posed a problem. He told me he wasn’t planning to come back to Nashville, but maybe things have changed. “Shelli, come on. You know he and Allison have an agreement that if they are both single at forty, they have to hook up. I can’t get in the middle of that.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “I forgot about that. But for real, does she like him like that?”

  “They’re like best friends. She’d kill me. But don’t get me wrong, he’s mighty gorgeous.”

  Gray eyes, black glasses, and muscles for days. Asher is so dorky-fine, and he’s a genius.

  She grins. “That he is. But okay, what about Aiden’s linemates? Wes is adorable and so sweet, funny too. Eh, Boon is okay. He’s nice but quiet—”

  I hold up my hand. “I can find my own man if I want one.”

  She sets me with a look, and her eyes plead with mine. “Please don’t just sit back and be good at work things. Be impulsive again, find someone to hang with. Hell, go sleep around for a bit. It can be fun too. Whatever gets you out there. Having fun. We’re young—”

  “And you’re getting married, so it can’t be that much fun if you’re leaving the dating world so quickly.”

  She grins, batting her lashes at me. “It was, but then I got the one who completed me in and out of the bedroom. Your dude is out there. You just gotta find him.”

  And hope he likes me.

  “Also,” she says, walking around my desk like she’s walking a catwalk. “Amelia is my matron of honor, but I want you to be my maid of honor.”

  It’s like she hit me in the gut. “Well hell, Shelli. Talk about a whiplash conversation!” I stand up, and she envelops me in a hug. I honestly never thought she’d ask me. She and our cousin Amelia are so close. Best friends, even, way closer than the two us. But I guess she is just as important as I am if she is “of honor” too. “I just assumed it would be Amelia beside you.”

  She shakes her head. “No way. It’s you, then Amelia, and then Ally. I love you, sis. I know you think I don’t or that this is some kind of competition, but it’s not. I promise you. I love you for who you are. And when you start showing people who that is, you’ll see you’re unstoppable too.”

  She kisses my cheek and then heads out of the room as gracefully as she entered it. Ah, to be her. To walk with such confidence and badassery.

  I can do that.

  But when I go to get up, my tennis shoe gets caught in the chair leg. Unfortunately, my body was moving up, but I’m being anchored down, so of course I hit the ground with a loud thud.

  And that is how you tell the difference between Posey and Shelli Adler.

  * * *

  “And let’s give a warm welcome to our newest coach, Posey Adler.”

  I stand in the middle of the ice on my skates and with my stick in hand as the guys all tap their sticks to the ice. Our special teams meeting was canceled in the hope it would give us more time on the ice. In theory, this was a good idea. But now, standing here, I am terrified all over again. I’m shaking in my skates. Literally. I look around at all the faces I know and some that I don’t. Our team was voted hottest in the NHL, and if I weren’t a professional, I would be drooling over the drop-dead gorgeous men who make up this team.

  I have to remind myself to swallow.

  “Thank you,” I say with a wave of my glove.

  “For those who don’t know, Posey is the daughter of our owner, Elli Adler, and the great Shea Adler. She graduated from Bellevue. She also played for their team, but it’s really her work behind the scenes that made her best for our team. Posey has been making plays for us and with her father for many years. We’re excited to bring her on for special teams. We’re sure she is the piece we’ve been needing,” Coach Townes says, and I’m surprised by his knowledge of me. I thought it would be Jakob or me introducing myself, but I feel special knowing it’s Coach Townes. He’s very well respected and a real nice guy. I’m excited to work with him. “Okay, so let’s get started. How do you wanna do this?”

  Oh, heart, slow down. I clear my throat. “I want to watch Jak— Er, I mean Coach Titov run plays. I know I’ve watched a lot of tapes and worked solely with Coach Titov, but I want to watch it on ice, live, and see how my strategies are used.”

  Coach nods, and I notice Jakob is beaming from where he stands next to Jayden Sinclair, our captain, who is out with a broken hand. “Sounds like a plan to me. Can I stand with you?”

  “Yes, of course,” I say, and I don’t know why that makes me giddy.

  “All right, boys, let’s go!” Jakob hollers, and then Aiden yells out, “SS, SS, SS.”

  It’s my version of a single swing. I watch as the guys attempt to execute it, but our penalty kill line cleans the ice with them. “So, what is happening here?”

  Since I’m marking things on my tablet, I almost ignore him. Then I realize he’s my coach, so I clear my throat and lean in to show him what I see. “They don’t have confidence coming into the zone. They already know they can’t beat our kill because it’s the best in the league. No one can score on them, so they can’t practice right—” I pause and then look over at him. “Excuse me.”

  I step out on the ice after laying down my tablet. They gave me a whistle, so I might as well use it. When I blow into it, everyone looks over at me, and I notice Jakob’s brows are up. “This is pathetic,” I say before setting Aiden’s line with a look. “You guys are entering this zone like you’re going to a sleepover and are all ‘Well, I guess I’ll find a place to sleep.’ You can’t go in like that! You have to skate in here like ‘Bitch, I’m getting the top bunk.’” I wasn’t trying to be funny, but I appreciate the laughter from the guys o
n the PK. My PP, though, they look annoyed as they suck in deep breaths. Especially Boon Hoenes.

  Personally, I feel he is the main problem with this line, but no one wants to listen to me. I don’t like his play. It’s very bull-in-a-china-shop, and I don’t think he is made for special teams. As a right wing for regular play? Hell yes. He demands authority on the ice and he can score top shelf like no other, but he doesn’t have the finesse. I’ve always found him intriguing, though.

  He is a massive dude, which plays into why I think of him as a bull. Big shoulders, big legs, and he’s huge. Taller than his teammates. He shouldn’t be as fast as he is, but somehow he makes it work. He has a jagged scar on his face that steals attention from his really great features, not that I notice those great features. It’s his play I notice, and he isn’t doing what I want. I don’t want him on my power play, but I sure as hell can’t deny that I think he is sexy. I’ve always thought so.

  “The play calls for entrance on the left and then a pass to the point for our defense to come in as you guys rush the net. Brooks, you’re breaking the pass instead of allowing it to go back to the defense. You’re supposed to rush the goal. We need that presence. You’re the center.”

  He nods curtly, his eyes trained on me.

  “Hoenes, when you pass, you gotta put a bit more oomph on it so it reaches our point. You’re already anticipating the attack and don’t want to take the chance.” He doesn’t nod or even acknowledge me. Nice. “Listen, guys, the biggest thing is confidence. You have to skate into their zone like you fucking own it and it is yours. Treat it the way you do a 5-on-5. Or hell, a desperate shorthand play. I want anything that isn’t what you are giving me. You have all the tools—pick them up and use them.”

  Aiden taps his stick to the ice. “Let’s go, boys.”

  They skate off, setting up as I realize my heart is still beating like a jackhammer in my chest. I move to the side with Jakob, and he grins over at me.

  “That’s my girl.”

  “I don’t know where that came from.”

  He scoffs. “Your dad—he talked, and everyone listened. You’re his Mini-Me.”

  As the guys move along the ice and execute the play, I find myself grinning from ear to ear. I have to hold back from screaming like a girl who just won Shawn Mendes concert tickets, but it’s easy to see from my face that I am pleased.

  I got this.

  I can do this.

  I am a freaking force to be reckoned with.

  I am Shea Adler’s daughter, and just as he was when I was growing up, I’m about to be one kick-ass coach.

  Chapter Five

  Boon

  I’m unsure how I feel about Posey Adler.

  I’m watching as she holds her tablet to her chest, yelling at the top of her lungs, one hand gesturing with each word. She’s passionate, I can tell. She loves the game hard-core, and she knows the ins and outs. Even with her ball cap low, you can’t miss those eyes. They’re like lasers. When she set them on me and told me to pass with purpose, I didn’t like it. Don’t get me wrong—she’s smart; I can tell that off the top. And if she can help us get our power play under control, then I’m all about it. But something about her has me on edge.

  I’m not really sure what I was expecting. When Aiden mentioned she was coming in to replace our special teams assistant coach, I don’t know, I thought she’d be in the background. But that’s not the case at all. She is in it to win it. She is loud, and she doesn’t hold back.

  “Brooks, you’ve got to dig! Reeves, you’re better than that. If you aren’t going to give me one hundred percent, guys, then get off my ice. I know we have a game tonight, but maybe, just maybe, we can get this and score a goal tonight if y’all go on the power play.”

  The girl isn’t playing, and that fuels the boys to work harder. One thing is for sure—she isn’t like Shelli. Everyone talks about how they’re basically twins, but with one look at Posey, I can say with certainty that people are blind. I’ve been around her sister for a while now since Aiden is totally and hopelessly in love with her, and while this is my first interaction with Posey, I already know she is different.

  She isn’t prim like her sister; she’s rough around the edges, tough, and that intrigues me. She isn’t all made-up like Shelli always is. Posey’s wearing a ball cap that contains all her hair, and if I weren’t looking as hard as I am, I wouldn’t know it was auburn. Her pants are loose on her, and the only reason I know she has curves is because she took off her jacket, and that showed off a nice set of tits, toned arms, and a trim little waist that leads into some wide, thick hips.

  I’m pretty sure giving her a whistle was a crime because she hasn’t stopped blowing it at us. She doesn’t even have to yell to get our attention. She has it, which is weird to me. I’m unsure if it’s because I’ve never had a female coach a day in my life and I’m intrigued by her, but I can’t keep my eyes off her. I’ve always been taught by men, and this isn’t some “I don’t think women are as good as men” shit. My mom is a badass chick, and she raised me with no help, and because of that, I respect the shit out of women. But Posey, I don’t know… It’s odd. I feel… I feel off.

  The whole practice, I can’t seem to focus on what we are doing. I’m too fascinated by her. The way she stands so tall in those skates, almost like she’s taking up the rink. She exudes this vibe that she could skate circles around us, and the crazy fucking thing is, I kind of think she could. Even beside a very powerful man, our coach, she stands like she is his equal. Again, not saying she’s not, but he’s a two-time Olympian, won the Cup five different times, and can coach like it’s as easy as breathing. He’s a badass. She’s young, fresh out of college, yet she’s making me think she can skate circles around him too.

  It’s freakin’ mind-blowing!

  I don’t get it.

  It bothers me so much that as we head back to the locker room after the ass-reaming she gave us, I glance over at Wes and try to read him. He’s happy-go-lucky Wesley, just heading to the locker room with no cares. I look at Aiden—same thing, he put in the work, and he’s ready for the game. I look around at the rest of my teammates, and everyone is so unaffected. Except me. I am affected by her, and I don’t like it one fucking bit. Is it because she got on to me multiple times? I feel maybe she has it in for me. She sure did yell my name more times than anyone else, but she did go off on all of special teams. She’s ruthless and believes in perfection. Can’t hate on her; I want the same. So then, why am I so bothered by her?

  I come out of the shower later, after trying to analyze why I can’t stop thinking about everything she did and said on the ice. Why did she leave her pen up in her cap at her temple? Like, that’s weird. Why not throw it in your pocket? She took off her jacket but never took off her ball cap. Does she not like her hair? Did she not brush it? That’s why I keep my ball cap on when I wear one.

  I’ve never seen a girl like her. I look around the room at my teammates. No one has said a word about Posey. Not one. They’re talking game shit, women problems, and even kid problems, but no one has mentioned how they feel about her.

  Shit. Why am I so bothered by her?

  “So, do we like her?” I find myself asking. Everyone looks at me, confused, and I hold up my palms. “Coach Adler. Do we like her?”

  All the guys are nodding and looking around at one another.

  Wes quirks his brow as he eyes me. “We do. Do you not?”

  I shrug. “No. I mean yes. I mean… Shit, I don’t know. I can’t get a read on her,” I say, falling between him and Aiden on the bench as everyone laughs and chuckles at me.

  “You don’t like anyone, Hoenesy,” Willy Bacioretty, one of the defense, hollers at me. During training camp this year, he’d expressed interest in switching to defense. I wasn’t sure about the change since he has a sick wrister, but Coach believed in him, and he was right. The dude is lethal at the point.

  “She isn’t here for you to like or not like. She’s here to f
ix our power play,” Reeves says, and I glare at him. He can be Mr. Know-It-All. Really annoying but a nice guy, and he can make some damn good ribs. His little girl, Lilly, is adorable too, and his wife, Mekena, is really great.

  “Can’t get a read on her? Why do you need that? You just have to listen.” Wes says, like a normal person who isn’t obsessing over our new female coach.

  Aiden leans in. “She’s a hard-ass but a super-cool chick.”

  I give him a look. “You have to say that. She’s about to be your family.”

  He scoffs with a shrug. “Maybe, but I like her. I’ve always liked her. She’s good people, super-talented and smart. Really, give her a minute. She was brought in to fix us. She has to be hard.”

  “I don’t care that she’s hard. I like that she’s coaching us. I just get the vibe that she thinks she’s better than us.”

  He pauses and then nods slowly. “I can see that, but I think that’s just her face and her confidence. I mean, Shea Adler would walk into any room, and everyone knew he was a winner. He didn’t let you think otherwise. The first time I met him, I didn’t know a lick about hockey, but I knew he was good at it.”

  Wes grins and nods. “Everyone knew that. He was a badass dude.”

  “Still is.”

  I roll my eyes. “Is this part of joining the family? Gotta kiss everyone’s ass?”

  Aiden chuckles. “Seriously. She’s a good girl—”

  “Exactly! She’s a baby, and she thinks she can do this?” I say, giving him a look. “A seasoned man who has won a Cup didn’t even have the confidence she has.”

  Wes nods. “Exactly, which is why he’s not here and she is. Honestly, I want a confident coach, someone who knows they can make us win.”

  When he puts it like that, I guess they’re right. But still, something is bothering me. When Wes leans over, coming entirely too close to me, I pull in my brows.