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Power Play: The Nashville Assassins: Next Generation Page 18
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“And I always will.” I can hear the emotion in her voice.
I smile as I check the time. I gotta get off the phone soon.
“I wanted to ask if I could bring him with me to come see you.”
Ew. I don’t like guys who want to date my mom, but I do want her to meet Posey, so maybe I should agree. “Yeah, I want to meet him.”
“We’ll get a hotel.”
“I have a guest room, Mom. It’s fine.”
“Okay. You don’t know how incredibly happy that makes me.”
“Good. I want that for you, Mom,” I promise. “And funny thing is, I was calling to tell you I also met someone.”
I’m met with silence. My heart is frozen in my chest as I wait for her reaction. “Oh?”
“Yeah, her name is Posey. She’s actually our special teams assistant coach.”
“Is that smart, to mix business with pleasure?”
“Probably not, but she’s totally worth it. She’s amazing, Mom. I really like her,” I say with a grin. “I think you will like her too.”
“I don’t know, honey. After Julia, I don’t know if I can like anyone else.”
“Funny, I felt the same. But then I met Posey.”
“I have to say, I’m really surprised by this. I didn’t think you’d want to be with anyone for a long time after her.”
“I didn’t. I have been single for over a year,” I say softly before taking in a deep breath. “I was ready to swear off all women, but Posey’s different.”
“How so?”
“She’s funny and quirky. She’s so damn strong, Mom. Like you. Really independent and doesn’t take anyone’s shit,” I say, and I can feel the grin on my face growing. “We’ve only been dating a few days, but I like her a lot.”
“Okay, so when do I get to meet her?”
“I guess when you come down. We can do a whole big awkward dinner of first meetings.”
She laughs. “That sounds like something I want to avoid. I don’t like awkward.”
“Eh, we’ll be there. It’ll be a party.”
“This is true,” she agrees, and then she sighs. “This is good. I was worried when Julia did what she did.”
“I know you were.” I turn off the car, getting out. “But like you said, I had to figure it out and get back to me.”
“You have, and I’m glad your happiness wasn’t just brought back by a girl.”
I laugh. “Nope. It was hockey and Wes. He’s been my best friend.”
“Lord, you and that boy. Big goofballs,” she teases, and I laugh. “How is he?”
“Good. Doing Wes things.”
She laughs. “I love him. Tell him hi for me.”
“I will,” I say as I head into the building. “I’m walking inside. I gotta go.”
We share an I love you and then a good-bye before I reach Wes. He stands up from the bench where he is waiting for me. “How did she take it?”
I shrug. “Sounded good, but I think we were both trying to play nice. Apparently, she’s in love.”
Wes’s eyes widen. “No shit?”
“Yup, with that Wilbur dude.”
His brows come in. “But she thought he was a huge dork.”
“He’s her dork,” I say in a teasing tone, and Wes laughs.
“Okay, so what are you thinking? How are you feeling about it?”
I shrug as we head down the hall. “I mean, after Julia, I realize happiness doesn’t come easy.”
“That’s the damn truth,” he agrees, and I nod. “I think it’s good for her. She needs someone to grow old with.”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“He’ll treat her good. I can feel it.”
I glance over at him. “How?”
“He’s a dorky dork. Your mom is fine—hello, he won’t give that up,” he says. I would kick his ass for calling my mom hot, but before I can, he continues, “You know, same with you and Posey. She’s too good-looking for you, so you’d never leave her.”
But she could leave me.
No. No, she won’t. We’re good. “Fuck off.”
Wes laughs wholeheartedly. He doesn’t realize he’s sent my head spinning. “How’s it going with her?”
“Good,” I say, and I remind myself that things are good. Really good. “She’s awesome.”
“Still on the down-low?”
“Yup, it’s for the best right now. I don’t want anything messing up our careers. And you know…there’s Shea Adler.”
He does an exaggerated shiver. “Ooh, say it again,” he says in his best hyena voice from the Lion King.
“Jackass.”
Wes chortles as we head into the locker room. “For real, I think Shea will be cool with it.”
“You think so?”
“Nope. I just want to watch you get your ass kicked.” I shove him as he laughs. “I kid, I kid. I do think so. You’re a nice guy, and even though it hasn’t been long, you treat her well. The noises I heard last night make me feel like she is really happy.”
I laugh. “Shut up.”
“Just saying,” he teases as he reaches for the door, opening it for me. “So, is she going to be all sweet and loving on the ice?”
I glance over my shoulder to him. “What do you think?”
He scoffs. “I think she’s gonna be even worse now.”
“Yeah, I’m kind of nervous.”
He waggles his brows. “Nervous? Aww, you like her.”
I shove him once more as he laughs. But the truth is, I do.
A lot. But I’m worried I can’t keep my feelings for her off the ice like I know she will.
So, in all reality, this is either going to be a shitshow or a cakewalk.
* * *
It’s actually option three: a mindfuck.
From the moment my skates hit the ice, it’s as if I don’t mean anything to Posey. I know for a fact that I do mean something to her. Wes wasn’t kidding when he was teasing me about the noise last night. She screamed my name like a damn opera singer. It was hot as fuck, and when she lay in my arms, her fingers stroking my jaw, she was with me. Truly with me, like a soul-deep connection. But you couldn’t tell that with how she is acting now that we’re on the ice. I don’t even think she’s looked my way.
Posey stands in her skates in a purple Assassins jumpsuit. Her hair is up in a no-nonsense bun, and under her arm is a helmet. She doesn’t usually have a helmet, so I’m intrigued. But more than that, I’m jealous of her ability to leave her feelings off the ice. I’m over here struggle-busing right now. I want to go up to her and wrap her in my arms and press my lips to hers. I want her to look me in the eye and tell me that my amazing passing is turning her on. I want her to wrap her legs around my waist like a koala and let me carry her so her poor little pinkie toe doesn’t hurt.
Jesus, mother of God, I sound like a chick.
Before I can dwell, it’s time for our line to go. We run the play, and it’s successful. I feel good. I feel like I’m actually gaining some ground. I know it’s only against my teammates, but before, I didn’t even feel like I could get one pass by them. I was too shaky, but now I feel like I’m finding my own. I got this. Posey said I did.
Speaking of her… She comes to the middle of the rink, and I watch as she speaks. She commands the ice, owns it, and fuck if she isn’t hot doing it. She’s so passionate, her eyes so intent on us as she explains what she wants. Jakob stands beside her, nodding. He isn’t good at the explaining, but once we know it, he can encourage and enforce like no other. He’s also the good cop, while Posey has been playing bad cop.
Hm, I should get some cuffs.
That would be a whole lot of fun.
“So, I know our SS 3 play has been a more angled approach, with our center shooting. I want to change it. I want an S-formation, but with the top winger shooting. The reason being, no one has done it. They always have the bottom winger or the center taking the shot ’cause they have a direct lane, and I want to try something new. I think
Brooks can handle this shot. A sick wrister or even a toe drag.”
Aiden nods. “I can do that.”
“Good,” she says with a nod. “Mac, you’re my bottom, and Hoenes, my center.”
I almost scream out, “Yay! I get to play!” but I’m unsure how that would go over. She’d probably be annoyed by my immaturity, but I’m almost too excited to care. Almost. I don’t want her to think I’m too much of a dork.
As everyone breaks for water, I take my time, skating by her. “Hey.”
She looks up at me, her lips quirking a bit as she says, “Hey, Hoenes.”
“You weren’t calling me that last night,” I mutter, and her eyes narrow. “Kidding. But you weren’t.”
“Can I help you? Do you need assistance with the play?” she asks, coming close to me and holding out her tablet. She takes the pen and then writes on the screen.
Your passes look really good. I’m very proud.
I shouldn’t be this excited, but I am.
I take the pen.
This hot chick taught me a lot. Need her number?
She eyes me with a small smile.
Behave, you. Don’t make me poke your eye out with this pen.
Hey, you poke me, I’m gonna poke you later. More screaming is a promise.
She looks up at me, and the heat in her eyes is uncontainable. I don’t know if anyone is watching, but if they are, they’re getting turned on too. “I look forward to watching you execute my play.”
I start to skate off, but then I lean in and murmur, “I look forward to seeing you naked later.”
Her eyes widen as I skate away, a shit-eating grin on my face. As I line up with Wes and Aiden, Wes glances over at me. “Well, someone is excited they get to play.”
I nod. “Fucking yeah. I hate being benched. My spot is with you losers.”
Aiden agrees. “It is. We’ll show her.”
My boys.
“Three! Three! Three!” she hollers, slapping her stick to the ice. I fall back a bit, letting Aiden and Wes go before me, Wes with the puck. I enter, going in an S-formation just as Wes drops the puck to me. I deke, but instead of shooting, I send it over to Aiden, who goes top shelf and into the goal.
Just how my hot girlfriend told us to.
I high-five the boys as we head up the ice toward Posey, but she’s already coming in our direction. She taps her stick to the ice and nods. “Great job, boys. Exactly what I wanted.”
“Can’t break up the McBroenes line,” Aiden says with a laugh as he high-fives us. “Shelli told you that.”
She raises her brow and snaps, “Well, when Shelli starts coaching, let me know.”
Aiden presses his lips together, and I clear my throat. “I think Coach knows what she’s doing.”
They both look at me, of course, and Posey’s eyes are in slits. “I don’t need someone to defend me, Hoenes. I got this.”
Now I’m the one pressing my lips together. Wes looks between all of us but doesn’t say a word. I watch as Posey swallows hard, almost as if she is composing herself, before she says, “Let’s try it again, but now I’m on the ice to cause havoc.”
Or, in other words, to block my pass and make me feel the size of a toddler.
I furrow my brow. “I don’t want to play with you.”
Wes, Reeves, and Aiden all laugh.
“Scared?” she asks, her eyes burning into mine.
Yes. Fucking terrified. “No. But I can’t seem to pass on you.”
Fire fills those usually blue, but today dark green, depths. “Then you can’t pass against anyone.” She turns her body toward me, glaring up at me. I don’t know how I pissed her off, but damn it if I don’t want to take it back. “You have to come on to this ice ready to fucking win, Hoenes. Ready to pass against the greats. You should skate up this ice like you’re about to pass against Wayne Gretzky.”
The urge to fall to your knees in worship for the great Wayne Gretzky is instilled in all little hockey players, but I refrain. In all honesty, I’d rather face Wayne Gretzky than Posey Adler.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am.”
“Yes, Coach?”
“Better,” she snaps, and I look at Aiden.
“Way to go, asshole.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know why she is so mean to me. I’m about to be in her family!”
Hell, I sleep with her, and she’s about to block all my shots and make me look like a peewee player. I don’t say that, obviously. Mostly because Posey slaps her stick to the ice to get us to set up. I do a little self-talk before we get started.
You can pass on her. Yeah, she’s hot and a damn good player, but that doesn’t matter. You will pass on her. You’re gonna make her dread the day she challenged Boon Hoenes!
She blocks my pass four times in a row.
I head back to the end of the ice, and I know everyone is getting frustrated. I honestly don’t get it. She’s a fucking genius. I know she knows the play, but I’m passing with all kinds of purpose! She watches from the blue line, and I’ve never seen a hotter woman in my life. She stands with confidence, and she has this essence around her that says not to mess with her.
But I am going to pass on her.
“Change it up,” I say under my breath. Both Wes and Aiden look back at me.
“Huh?” Wes asks, and I cover my mouth.
“I’m gonna pass to you. You shoot, but stay low.”
He nods, and Aiden grins. “Yes, buddy. Yes.”
So, we start. Posey is at the blue line as we come in. She knows the play, so she follows me, ready to break off my pass. I pull her back, and man, she is fast and aggressive. She’s got great hands, and her eyes are like lasers as she comes for me. When she tries to poke check me, I spin around her and send the puck to Wes, who hits the back of the net with ease. Wes and Aiden skate to me, tapping my helmet, and then Posey drops her stick and her gloves.
Shit, does she want to fight me?
But then she claps, nodding. “Exactly what I wanted. I wanted you to think on the fly and to change it up. That pass was perfect. When you see the player reading you, switch it up. You got this.” She smacks me in the middle of the chest, and when she notices everyone is watching, she also smacks Aiden and Wes. “All of you. Great job.” Then she turns. “Everyone, great job. Hit the showers.”
Everyone files out as I skate to pick up her stick and gloves.
When I hand them to her, she glares up at me. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Get my stuff for me, defend me. I can handle myself.”
I shrug. “I know, but I want to do those things.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not helpless. I don’t need rescuing.”
“I know that, Posey,” I say, but then I drop my voice when I see Jakob coming. “I do it firstly because no one will ever doubt you in front of me. And second, if I can make your life easier, I will.”
Something flashes in her eyes, and then she taps her stick to my shin. “Great job today.”
“Great coaching.”
Once more, her eyes sparkle, and then she turns just as Jakob reaches her. I watch for maybe a second as she talks to him. Her shoulders are back, and she stands with a new self-assurance that I’m thankful for. I hate that she was questioning her coaching. In my opinion, she’s phenomenal. She’s got me doing something right, and it isn’t because I want to impress her. It’s because she works the shit out of me and won’t give up on me.
Just as I won’t on her.
Posey isn’t the kind of girl you play with. She’s Shea and Elli Adler’s daughter. She demands respect, and I have no problem giving it to her. I want to. I just don’t understand how anyone could mistreat her or play with her feelings. She’s… Well, I don’t know. She’s just fucking great. I get that guys haven’t treated her right and she doesn’t know what it’s like to be in a good relationship, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop what I am doing. I’m
going to show her what it’s like to be with a good man. A man who goes to bat for his woman. A man who won’t allow anything to happen to her. I don’t care if we’re on the down-low because, no matter what, I have her back. That thought blows my ever-loving mind. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to get involved with anyone. I didn’t want to give my heart away again for fear of how it would come back to me. My only hope is that it doesn’t ever come back. It stays with Posey.
Chapter Nineteen
Posey
Boon: I didn’t realize this was going to be so hard.
I bring in my brows at Boon’s text.
Me: What?
Boon: Being maybe ten feet behind you and unable to touch you.
I feel my face warm as my lips turn up. He’s a dream.
After a grueling afternoon of meetings and then boarding the plane, we’re on our way to New York to start our twelve-day road trip. It’s my first road trip as a coach, and while I’m excited, I’m a little worried. I don’t like hotels—not a fan at all—and I really don’t like hotel beds. I can’t ever seem to sleep right, and they’ve freaked me out ever since I watched a documentary on bed bugs. Boon thinks my fear is funny since he’s been on countless road trips with no problems, but I’m a little squicked out. Shelli says she’ll make sure to have them change my sheets in front of me, but I packed a bottle of Lysol for good measure. But now, with Boon in my messages, bugs are the last thing I’m thinking of.
Me: That is hard, especially when all I want is to touch you.
Wow. I’m being bold this evening. Must be the fact that he brings out the boldness. I don’t have to look at him to know he’s grinning that shit-eating grin of his, but I still look through the crack between the seats in my row and find him maybe ten rows behind me. He has his phone up, that grin on his face as he types. Man, he is gorgeous. He’s wearing a green suit that hugs those thighs so perfectly, it almost made me whimper. His eyes are dark, his lashes long, and his beard is fierce. He went to the beard barbershop downtown since I couldn’t meet him for lunch. The barber must have hooked him up, because he looks fantastic.
I worried it would upset Boon that I have meetings and obligations to the team. He is very much a man who wants all my time, but he’s so damn supportive. I know my inexperience doesn’t give me much to work with, but I’ve seen movies, read books, and my best friend is Ally—a woman who has been through her fair share of relationships. It’s rare for a guy not to text when he knows you’re busy. Not to demand your time. Boon does just that, though. He’s so patient when we’re apart that sometimes it feels as if he doesn’t care. But when I’m with him, in his arms…oh, I know he cares. And then some.