“Yeah, I’m sure.” We met each other’s gaze, neither of us appearing all that certain.
“Let me know if she approaches you again.”
“Of course.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and tried to look casual. “I’d better go now.”
“That’d be a good idea.” Her gaze dropped down to my lips, and something about her eyes on me was almost like a physical caress. I spun around and got the hell out of there before I stripped her naked and bent her over a dryer. I was having some incredible erotic dreams about Geneva and laundry and needed to go before I made those dreams reality.
I didn’t understand why this particular woman had gotten under my skin, but she had, and I couldn’t seem to extract her. Wasn’t sure I wanted to extract her.
I sighed as I made my way to the weight room. My troubles weighed heavily upon me. Under any other circumstances, I’d be pursuing Geneva, but with Jock hating me as he did, hustling her would be foolhardy and asking for trouble from Jock and the entire team and management. I wasn’t that stupid, was I?
I hesitated at the door to the weight room, afraid my indecision would be written all over my face along with my lust for Jock’s hot sister. Drawing a calming breath, I opened the door and approached him. He watched me with distrust but didn’t say much since there were other guys present.
“Can we talk in private?”
“Whatever you have to say can be said here.” The set of his jaw was rigid and unyielding. Reasoning with him wouldn’t be an option. Best to just spit out what I came to say and get it over with.
He wasn’t going to make this easy. “I’m sure you know I’m in a scoring slump.”
“Yeah.”
“I have a favor to ask as one teammate to another.”
“What?”
“I was wondering if we could put in an extra hour or so each day, me shooting the puck at the net and you deflecting it.”
He frowned, not wild about helping me with anything, but torn between helping a teammate and wanting me to fail.
“The team needs me to score.” I didn’t mention he would benefit from the extra practice. Better to put this on me and allow him to save face.
“Don’t we spend enough time together already?”
“What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment.” I grinned at him. He scowled back.
“Fine. After practice.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
“Whatever.” He walked away to another weight machine, effectively cutting me off.
I was growing weary of his attitude. I’d been bending over backward to get along with him. Some days I took one step forward, other days two steps back. At least he hadn’t hit me again. I guess that was something.
~~Geneva~~
I was grateful to be doing the mindless task of folding towels. My mind worked overtime, and any other tasks required too much thinking. If I’d been sharpening skates, I’d probably have ground the blade down to the soles of the skates.
Bria’s words played over and over in my head. She wasn’t that crazy. She wouldn’t harm my brother or Axel or the kids. I was torn between warning him to be cautious and knowing he’d dismiss the entire claim because it came from Axel, which would cause even more strife between them. My brother didn’t need more to worry about.
Until I had proof to present to him, he’d never believe Bria was dangerous. Even I was having a hard time believing it. But the drinking and possible drugs? Was she thinking straight? Should she be allowed alone time with the kids? I might at least have a discussion with him about visitation.
This woman had been married to my brother for sixteen years and had five kids with him. Surely, she’d loved him at some point. Or had she loved his money?
They say you marry someone like your parents. Maybe Jock had married our mother. God only knew the woman should’ve never had children. Bria was cut from the same cloth. Narcissistic to a fault.
Still, I’d tread lightly. My brother was hurting, and so were the kids, and only time would heal their wounds and clarify who she really was.
When I finished the towels, I ventured out of the laundry room and down the hall to retrieve my lunch. I warmed it in the microwave and wandered into the practice facility. It was deserted except for Jock at the net and another player who was shooting puck after puck at him at rocket-fast speed. I stared harder, incredulous. The other player was Axel. My brother deflected every puck careening at him. Axel finally lasered a shot over Jock’s left shoulder that found the net. I wasn’t sure anyone would’ve been able to defend that one. Triumphant and rubbing it in, Axel danced around on the ice, hands raised in the air.
“Lucky shot,” my brother said grudgingly, then he got into his stance as Axel went back to work.
My heart warmed a little more for the handsome, conceited rookie center, who was giving my brother a run for his money. This was why Axel had been looking for Jock.
Jock would never admit it, but Axel was doing him a huge favor, helping him shake off the rust, plus the rookie had a wicked shot that hadn’t yet been visible in actual games.
Watching Axel out on the ice mesmerized me. My eyes were glued to his fine ass and strong thighs. The play of his muscles wasn’t visible through the heavy padding, but my imagination made those muscles visible, as I visualized him naked and sweaty as he attempted to outfox and outmaneuver my dear brother. Jock was a machine, but Axel was the picture of male beauty and grace. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t drooling over this man. I sure as fuck was.
I glanced up as someone approached and did my best to gather my senses together even though I wasn’t successful erasing all my dirty thoughts.
Steele Bailey, an enigma if there ever was one, sat down next to me. Steele didn’t say much, went about his business, and did his job on the ice. I liked him, as much as a person could like someone they really didn’t know.
“What’s going on?”
“I think they’re engaged in a competition.”
“No shit.” Steele chuckled, and I searched my memory banks but didn’t recall ever hearing him laugh before. “Good for both of them. Burns off mutual animosity with productive ass kicking. Looks like your brother is schooling Axel on the tricks of veteran NHL goalies.”
“Axel has gotten a few good shots in.”
“Jock is a good goalie. On any other team, he’d have been a starter.”
“He would’ve? Why did he stay with this team then?”
“You don’t know?”
“No, I really don’t.”
“Besides this being a great team to play for, I heard he moved here because of his wife.”
“What do you mean because of his wife?”
“I’m talking too much. I thought you knew?”
“Knew what?”
“Never mind, I spoke out of turn. It’s nothing. Just gossip.”
I studied Steele, but his expression gave away nothing. “Let me guess, she had a boyfriend in Florida?”
“You didn’t hear that from me. Look, I’ve known Axel for a long time. We came up through the minors together. He’s a good guy, maybe a little naïve at times, but all in all a good guy. He’s telling the truth about your sister-in-law.”
“I’m beginning to believe that.”
“He’s not one to mess with married women. He didn’t know.”
“I sure as hell hope that’s the truth.” I hoped more than he’d ever know because I was more than attracted to Axel. I might even be falling for him just a teensy bit.
Steele’s expression was pained. “He’s a good guy, Geneva. Maybe you don’t recognize a good guy when you see one.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have you figured out.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I shot back defensively. I didn’t like anyone making a statement like that. I wasn’t transparent. No one knew the real me.
“I know you because we’re both hiding deep pain. I see it in you.”
/> “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I crossed my arms over my chest, realized that was a defensive posture, and uncrossed them. I was a badass, damn it. Whatever deep pain I hid was mine and mine alone. This guy who’d barely been around me was not able to see through me. Not in the least.
Steele shrugged. “I’m sure you do.” He shot me a knowing smile, stood, and left the practice rink. Steele was wrong. I was strong, and I’d overcome the demons of my past.
No one knew what I hid inside.
Chapter 12—New Problem
~~Geneva~~
We were one game into a four-game road trip. The Sockeyes won the first game against Tampa two to one. Jock was magnificent at goal, and Axel scored in the third. I was happy for both of them.
We flew out of Tampa and landed in Miami that evening. We had a blessed two days before the next game, which allowed me a little downtime. I was exhausted. I’d always prided myself on being in great physical shape, and I was, but this job consisted of long hours while working quickly to meet the needs of the team, especially when the players were on the ice.
I went straight to bed after we unloaded equipment and set up for tomorrow’s practice. By the time I crawled between the sheets, I was exhausted.
As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was wide awake.
Since I was awake, I might as well do a little stalking of my own.
I opened up Facebook on my phone and searched for her name. Surprisingly, she hadn’t unfriended or blocked me. There for all to see was a drunken, rambling video claiming Jock was the love of her life, and how she’d made a big mistake with one of his teammates. Most of what she said didn’t make sense, but the video was disturbing nevertheless.
She didn’t mention names, but it wasn’t a stretch to guess who she was referring to. The post wasn’t public, thank God. I immediately browsed her friend list to determine who might see this. She’d never been close to any of the WAGs, and there weren’t any mutual friends. Jock had blocked her a week ago because she’d been harassing him, but someone would most likely point this post out to him. Maybe those who saw would’ve already heard the gossip and consider it old news. Or maybe the team would decide Axel was more trouble than he was worth and send him back down.
The thought of Axel going away depressed me more than I cared to admit to myself, yet that sinking, sick feeling rolling around in the pit of my stomach should’ve been ample proof.
I had to do something about this, and I also had to warn Axel. And soon. Before anyone else saw this. Then the team and Jock probably should be told.
I hurriedly dressed and ran a comb through my unruly hair. A brief glance in the mirror made me cringe, but I didn’t have time for makeup or any of that other shit. I grabbed the doorknob and paused. In my half-awake state, I hadn’t processed that I didn’t have any idea where to look for Axel, nor could I pound on his door after midnight since he was rooming with my brother.
The equipment staff had a list of all the guys’ cell numbers in case we needed to ask them a question about equipment preferences. I found it on my phone and texted Axel’s number.
This is Geneva. Call ASAP.
I didn’t wait long before my phone buzzed.
Axel: Can’t talk. Your brother is awake. Where are you? I’ll come to you.
Me: Room #1223
Axel: On my way.
After what seemed like a lifetime but was only about five minutes, I heard a sharp rap on my door. I opened it quickly, glanced up and down the hall, and stood back to let him in. No one was out and about.
He hurried inside, and I shut the door behind him. He held out a paper bag.
“I’m not sure what’s up, but since it was urgent, I assumed whiskey was in order.”
“It is.” I grabbed the bottle, filled two glasses with ice I’d gotten earlier from the ice machine, and poured the whiskey. I handed one to him. I drank the other one and poured myself another.
He watched me with amusement. He wouldn’t be amused for long.
“Look at this.” I held my phone out to him with a screenshot of the Facebook post.
His brows furrowed in confusion, but he took the phone from me. You had to love a man who followed directions. I waited impatiently as he stared at the phone screen. His mouth dropped open in shock and surprise, which quickly turned to white-hot anger.
“What the fuck?” he shouted. “She can’t just let this go so it can die a natural death?”
“Shhh. You’ll wake everyone up on this floor, which is mostly equipment staff and coaches.”
“Just when I think Jock is starting to forgive me, this could potentially open up old wounds. I’m calling my attorney as soon as I can get the bastard out of bed. See if I can force her to take this down.”
“We need to talk to Jock, as difficult as this will be, then you’d better run all this by the team publicists. The whole thing sounds like drunken rambling, but it’s better to get on top of it, just in case.”
“You’re right.”
“She pointed the finger at an unnamed Sockeye player. This might go viral at any moment. Let me kick her ass for you.”
“You’d do that for me?” His crooked smile didn’t reach his eyes, but I did see gratefulness and something hard to define in their depths.
“Hell yeah.”
He shook his head. “One of us in deep shit with the team at a time is enough.”
“I was joking.” Well, maybe not completely. I wanted to have words with this bitch, and it wouldn’t be pretty. Not at all.
“Is this the kind of shit she’s going to start pulling? She warned me she wasn’t done.” Axel leaped to his feet and paced the floor, pausing on occasion to rake his fingers through his messy hair or rub his eyes. He downed his drink and poured another, carrying it as he wore a track in my rug.
“We have to do damage control.”
“Yeah. Thanks for being here. I regret the day I ever met that woman.” He looked at me. I smiled stiffly and raised a fist to him. We fist-bumped. He smiled back at me, and my world tilted on its axis.
Shit. I couldn’t let him do any world tilting. This was even worse than before, and who knew how my brother would take it.
Axel’s smile faded to something more serious, way too serious. I broke eye contact and took a long gulp of my whiskey. The room had probably tilted not because of Axel but because of my drinking too quickly and too much.
Yeah, that was it.
“You having my back means a lot,” he said.
“Anything I can do to help.”
Axel nodded grimly and moved toward me, and we came together in a tight hug, holding each other and giving comfort. We didn’t kiss or turn this into something sexual, even if we both wanted to. Now wasn’t the time.
This had to be okay. We had to fix this.
Chapter 13—Damage Control
~~Axel~~
I didn’t know what the morning would bring, and I wasn’t looking forward to finding out. I’d spent a sleepless night going over everything in my mind, formulating plans, and fretting about outcomes. There was one bright light in this very dark tunnel I was traveling through—Geneva.
I’d left a message for my attorney to see what options we had regarding content on Bria’s personal Facebook.
I’d contacted Coach Gorst for a meeting before breakfast.
I’d blocked Bria on my Facebook, and I’d done what little I could to fix this mess. Next, I had to talk to Jock. He had to hear this from me before the media and social networking grabbed on to this juicy bit of gossip.
Jock slept like the dead, for which I was grateful. He had no idea what was coming when he woke up.
Not only was I worried about Bria’s next move but I was doubly worried about Geneva and my growing attraction to her. She crossed my mind several times every day. I’d be lifting weights and suddenly she would be my spotter rather than Easton. I’d run on the treadmill, and I’d picture myself running after her, tackling her, and tickling her
until she agreed to anything I wanted. It was a good thing my sweats were baggy. I didn’t know whether to continue with my denial, which wasn’t working well for me so far, or come clean with Geneva and discuss our elephant in the room.
As usual, I didn’t come up with a solution to my Geneva problem because the entire situation was messy, complicated, and riddled with potholes big enough to swallow a semitruck. Other women didn’t interest me either, posing another problem. I was a guy in my sexual prime. I loved sex and enjoyed a healthy sex life. Until lately. Ever since that night I saw Geneva, no one else would do. Even worse, don’t think it didn’t disturb the fuck out of me that my last sexual encounter had been with my teammate’s wife. Not a memory I wanted stuck in my head.
I gave up trying to sleep, took a shower, dressed, and brewed a cup of coffee. I checked the internet and didn’t see any indication the word had gotten around about my alleged affair with our goalie’s wife.
I’d drunk my third cup of coffee by the time Jock stirred. He rolled over and squinted at me.
“What the fuck are you staring at?” His expression was one of slight alarm. “You’re creeping me out.”
“Sorry.” I stared at my hands and gathered my thoughts. One thing my dad always said when facing problems was to face them head on and get the difficult issues over with first. “We have to talk. I have a situation. We have a situation.”
Frowning, Jock swung his legs out of bed and sat up. “I need to shower first and get a cup of coffee.”
He was going to need more than coffee, but I didn’t say such a thing. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need an ice bag over my eye when I was done with my latest confession.
I brewed another cup of coffee in the Keurig for me and one for him. Might as well get him in the best mood possible. He’d played an outstanding game last night, which was in my favor. I did a quick text to Geneva to see if Bria had posted more bullshit. Nothing yet. The woman did have to sleep sometime.
While Jock was in the bathroom, I spoke with my attorney. I heard his fingers clicking on the keyboard. He was already taking action. The guy was a bundle of energy, and I was happy he was on my team. I hung up just as Jock came out of the bathroom fully dressed. His hair was wet from the shower. Without saying a word, he took the coffee I offered him and sat down on the edge of his bed. He cocked one brow to signal he was ready to hear what I had to say.
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