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He. Bumped. Into. Me.
Baxter.
I’m not saying I should have thrown down, or that any other day I’d even want to. But I’d at least get good and pissed about it. Today, I can’t muster the fucks to give.
I can’t stop thinking about the look in Allie’s big blue eyes before I left this morning, or how she melted into me when she fell asleep the night before. How instead of wanting to chew my arm off to get away, all I wanted was to figure out how I could stay.
Christ, she could absolutely derail my plans without ever meaning to. All it would take is word getting out that I’ve set my sights on Baxter’s little sister and I’d be fucked. The team wouldn’t stand for that shit, the fans would villainize me even more than they already have, and Coach would be done. I’d be out.
I’d be throwing away my career, and nothing is worth that. Especially not a girl who doesn’t date hockey players. No matter how much I like her.
* * *
Natalie
The thingabout coaching a bunch of twelve-year-old girls is while they will laugh until they cry when you do something stupid like tripping over your own skates, once you get up, they flock around you for the group hug of the century. Which is what I’m getting now, and it’s almost worth the bruised ass I’m going to have.
I need this.
I need to keep my mind off Vaughn Vassar and pay attention to what I’m doing, becauseouch!Rubbing my glute while the girls peel off to help pick up the pucks from our practice, I skate over to the bench where George is waiting for me, a wide grin stretching her mouth as she pinwheels her arms in slow motion, bugging her eyes in feigned terror.
“Laugh it up,” I say, planting my hands on the boards in front of her. She’s doubled over, red hair standing up like flames around her freckled face as she gives in to hysterical laughter.
George isn’t a regular coach for my team but comes in to do some one-on-one with our goalie when she can swing it. I was thinking how lucky I was that she could make it tonight, but watching as she swings her arms around again, wheezing out what I’m guessing is supposed to be me shrieking as I went down… hmm.
Finally coming up for air, she wipes an honest-to-God tear from her eye and sighs. “That was classic, Nat. I haven’t seen a flail and bail of that caliber from someone over eight in like…ever.”
I sigh, waiting for the rest of it. Because, there’s totally more. If she’d been the one to wipe out, I’d have sprayed her with ice and razzed her for the next two hours. “Mmhmm. Just get it all out.”
Cocking her head, she sticks out her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be teasing you after a sprawling, starfish wipeout like that.”
Yep, it was a good one.
“Bet your ego has a booboo, huh?”
It’s smarting right about now. Correct.
“I mean,splat.”
Deep breath.
“Think you’ll be able to make it off the ice without another wreck?” Making a show of craning her neck, she scans the rink. “I see one of the tot’s skating trainers over there.” Flashing me an impish wink, she adds, “Just wait here and I’ll bring it to you.”
“That all you got?” I ask, laughing right along with her.
After a day spent trying to convince myself that what happened with Vaughn last night was enough for me when I know it wasn’t—laughing feels good.
“For now, but give me an hour and a couple beers.” She plops down on the bench and digs around in the enormous messenger bag she drags around everywhere. When she finds her phone with the spiderwebbed glass, she adds, “Diego and Pete are already at Belfast, and Ted said he’d try to meet us when he’s done with the peewee practice.”
The beer and company sound good. I haven’t seen George’s oldest brother Pete and his husband in months, and Ted is a fun guy. ButBelfast?
My belly does a little twisty thing that I’d like to think is more nerves than anticipation, but that skip in my pulse and breathless feeling is all about me knowing that Vaughn likes Belfast.
I’ve already run into him there once.
No one could blame us if we just happened to end up in the same bar.
What would be the harm?
