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Theo has been out for a while with an injury thanks to an on-ice fight that got nasty. We've been managing without him thanks to Kellan Alexander, but our first Playoffs game is coming up. We need all hands on deck to bring home the Cup.
"Great. Now I won't be the prettiest motherfucker on the ice," Wes Davies complains, earning a middle finger from Theo and laughs from the rest of the team.
"You aren't even in the top ten, Wes." Gray Larsen ducks when Wes launches a half-empty bottle of Gatorade at his dark head. It sails past him, slamming into a locker hard enough to leave a small dent.
"Settle down!" Coach MacAthie barks, calling everyone to order.
I shake my head at my unruly teammates, turning my attention back to the curvy blonde standing beside Coach. Kelsey Lane has been trying like hell to ignore my existence…just like she has every other day since we fucked in the conference room a few weeks ago. If I walk into a room, she finds a reason to leave it. If she can't leave, she simply refuses to acknowledge my presence.
I'm persona non grata to our publicist, and it's driving me fucking crazy.
I'm ready to snap.
I've been chasing her since the day she started with the team over two years ago. But as soon as I get too close, she runs like her little feet are fire, and her gorgeous ass is catching.
A few weeks ago, I thought I had finally caught her. She let me make love to her. But she's been running full speed ahead ever since, trying to outpace me. Anyone else would have given up by now and let her get away. Not me. I knew the day I met her that she was my future. That hasn't changed. My heart beats for her and her alone. It always will.
One of these days, she'll stop running long enough to realize hers is safe with me too. I may be the captain of one of the best teams in the NHL, but hockey is just a game. She's my life.
At least she would be if she weren't so afraid to trust me.
She has a secret, something she's clinging to with both hands. Whatever it is, she's hellbent on keeping it from me. So much so that she avoids me every chance she gets and always has. As soon as she thinks I've gotten too close, she takes off like a rocket.
In all the time she's been here, I don't think anyone else has even realized she's hiding something. Coach, maybe. But the other guys? She's got them fooled. She's good at deflecting. But I've watched her every move for the last two years. I know her like I know the back of my hand.
She hides behind that ballsy attitude and her threats to keep people from getting too close or seeing who she really is underneath. I think it scares the shit out of her to let anyone in. I'd very much like to know why.
One day soon, she's going to spill all her secrets to me. I'm just counting down the days until my time on the ice is done, and then I intend to wage war if that's what it takes to win her heart.
"Kris, Wes, and Theo, you're on press duty," Kelsey says, looking at Wes and Theo. She doesn't even look in my direction.
I grind my teeth together.
"No."
That gets her attention. It gets everyone's attention.
No one tells Kelsey no. She threatens to murder the guys on a daily basis to keep them in line. She's a harmless, gorgeous little goddess, but they live in fear of pissing her off. I'm not afraid of being on her bad side, though. I think I may be the only one on the team she's never threatened with bodily harm or violence.
That may change today.
Her blonde head swivels in my direction. She looks like an adorable little kitten playing at being the boss with a pencil stuck through her bun and lightning bolt earrings in her ears. Her pink lipstick and lacy blouse soften her further, turning her into a curvy goddess. "You can't just refuse to do press, Kris. It's the first game of the Playoffs. They want to talk to you."
"I'm busy."
"Doing what?" She narrows her blue eyes on me, her expression rife with suspicion. "You're the Captain of the team. The only thing you're busy doing during Playoffs is team stuff."
"I have a thing," I lie, knowing full well she isn't going to buy it. The truth is, I just wanted her attention. I don't particularly care to attend the press conference, either. They're loud, boring, and a pain in the ass. The media asks the same questions, most of which have nothing to do with hockey. They're more interested in our personal lives than the game. It's always been that way, but since half the team decided to fall in love and get married this year, they've been ten times worse.
