7. Trevor

7

TREVOR

“They really like to get up close and personal measuring for the costumes, don’t they?” I ask as I drive us from the airport back to Devil’s Den. It’s midafternoon, and we’ve been to New York City and back. I could learn to really enjoy traveling like this. No catching a bus from one of the casinos or taking a patchwork of trains to avoid having to drive in the city and find parking.

Sophie giggles. “They want to show you off to your best advantage…and make sure you don’t split a seam.”

Shuddering, I grip the wheel tighter. “Don’t even joke about that. I had that happen once on the sideline of a football game. I squatted to prepare to lift Randi, and as she went up in the air, I felt a cool breeze on my twig and berries. My arms were fully extended above my head, keeping Miranda in the air as she did the cheer and stunts, so I couldn’t cover up. I gave a stadium full of people a show.”

“Oh, no, wardrobe malfunctions are the worst! They measure the female dancers to the millimeter, and we’re taped and glued six ways to Sunday to ward off nip slips or flashing the kitty.” Sophie makes a yikes face, and it’s my turn to chuckle. Wardrobe malfunctions are the nightmares of people in the public eye everywhere. “What did you do? Other than pose proudly and let the world bask in your glory?”

“How did you know that’s what I named him?” I deadpan, earning a spluttering laugh from Sophie as she backhands me in the bicep. “Got through the routine, and as soon as Randi was safely on the ground, I grabbed her pom-poms to cover my package and rushed back to the locker room for another pair of pants. I was getting more cheers than the football team.” The memory, though mortifying, makes me smile. Even though I was wearing compression briefs, I was still looking good enough to get some extra female attention after the fact. I was in my second year of law school, so there were lots of jokes about my briefs.

She adjusts in her seat so she can face me better.

“Why were you a cheerleader? Why didn’t you play football? I’m sure you could’ve if you wanted.”

My shoulders stiffen. I’ve heard this question so many times, but I didn’t expect it from her.

“Why does your brother dance? Why do you dance? To dance the way you do, you have skills that could be used for gymnastics or martial arts. I cheered because I enjoy moving. I like using my strength.” I flash what I’m told is my panty-melter grin. “And there were no girls on the football team.”

“Ugh.” She groans and punches me in the arm. “That’s gross.”

I lean away to try to get out of her reach, but that’s the problem with driving a sports car and not an SUV. Nowhere to hide.

“I’m being honest! They needed guys, and I got a scholarship. I was able to save money for law school. My family is comfortable, but they aren’t wealthy. I had some parental support for school, but I was expected to take out loans and work. Law school is expensive.” She nods in understanding. “I got a good enough scholarship for cheer that I didn’t have to take out loans for the last two years of undergrad. It made my law school applications interesting, and since I attended Wickham, I could cheer for two more years and get more scholarship money to use for law school. Obviously, my loans were the first thing I paid off when I got money from playing hockey. Then I bought my baby.” I pat the dashboard of my BMW affectionately.

I stop at the light in the middle of the outlet store complex. Even on a frigid January day like this, shoppers are rushing from store to store, taking advantage of post-holiday sales.

“Do you plan on practicing law when you’re done playing hockey, or will you go into coaching?” she asks.

I guess she doesn’t know the plan Randi and I originally had for our careers.

“Well, before the PHL was announced and it became possible to play professional hockey, I was planning on being a sports agent. I love sports more than I love law, but having a law degree is necessary to be the type of agent I want to be. I have no plans to ever set foot in a courtroom, it’s all contracts and endorsement deals for me. Randi and I were going to work together. She majored in sports management, and our plan was to represent professional athletes. When the PHL was announced and I decided to go that way, she decided to go to New Zealand after she graduated from Wickham. I still want to be an agent when I’m done playing, but I think Randi’s plans have changed. We’ll see.” I pull into the garage for Devil’s Den and take my usual spot.

“You’re coming in?” Sophie asks, undoing her seat belt.

I hit the button to pop the trunk. “No, I’m going over to The Nest to skate and run some drills, and then there’s the junior team practice. I try to attend them when I can.”

She follows me to the rear of my car as I get my gear bag out. “Junior team?”

We exit the garage and hurry across the Boardwalk to The Nest. The wind is icy. I’m glad we went to New York before the moisture in the air had the chance to become snow or freezing rain.

“Yeah, we have a few teams for kids in the community to learn hockey and play competitively. Different age groups. My nephews play. I enjoy working with the kids. Most of the players help when our schedules allow us.” I consider it one of the better things about my job, but I’m not going to admit that.

Sophie rushes through the door I hold open for her, eager to get out of the cold. She brushes against me lightly, and a zing runs through me. It must be static electricity built up in her navy-blue wool peacoat. I’m not a scientist like Bedard is, but I’m willing to experiment to see if we could build up a static charge rubbing against each other. Naked. In bed. For sure there will be sparks of some kind. I can’t wait for this fling we keep talking about to stop being a topic of conversation and start being a verb. Like me flinging her clothes to the floor. Me flinging her onto the bed. Her flinging her hair over her shoulders as she rides my cock. Less talking, more flinging.

“You like kids?” An odd expression flits across her face, and my thoughts of flings come to a screeching halt. Flings and talk of kids do not belong together.

Shrugging, I turn toward the practice rinks. I can hear sticks striking pucks and assume some of my teammates had the same idea of getting in some informal ice time.

“Yeah, I do. They’re fun, honest, and let you know where you stand. I enjoy teaching them and seeing their excitement when they learn a new skill.” And I can give them back after practice. Kids are great, but not being responsible for keeping them alive and happy is even better.

I think she’s going to say something, but Stone calls out from the door to the first practice rink.

“Hey there, twinkle toes, how did it go? Watched the announcement online.” He turns to Sophie. “Your brother as a host is a plot twist, huh?”

Stone loves to read, so half of his statements have to do with books. I don’t think he even realizes it.

“Aye, wasn’t expecting that. But that’s how these shows are, always throwing in twists and turns. There’s a fine line between being comfortable and predictable. Predictability is the kiss of death for reality television.”

Stone nods, kinda looking like a bearded bobblehead, as he steps aside for us to enter the rink. “Hmm…yeah. But you probably wanted a chance to do this on your own, right? Working with family is hard.”

Sophie stumbles slightly. My hand shoots out on instinct to steady her. Heat floods her cheeks.

“Do you think being on the team and living with your sister is hard?” she asks. Stone’s sister Bridget is our star goalie. She’s nicknamed Brick because their last name is Waller and she’s like a brick wall blocking the goal.

I head to the benches alongside the boards so I can put my skates on. Sophie sits next to me, and Stone leans against the boards, facing us.

His mouth quirks to the side as he rubs his thick beard. That’s something I like about him. He thinks before he speaks. He’s goofy as hell and a fun guy to hang out with, but he’s the type of man that, when he says something, you listen.

“I think Bridget and I being on the same team is different than you and your brother. Yeah, we play the same sport, but in completely different roles. Our destinies and success weren’t intertwined. You and Ian were partners, right? And then he got a new one, and you didn’t? He got a pro spot, and you didn’t.” He looks sheepish. Moose-ish? “I Googled. I’m a curious person with excellent research skills. No offense intended.”

Sophie huffs out a laugh. “None taken! I appreciate your candor.” She looks out over the practice ice where some of my teammates are skating. She adjusts her position on the bench. The practice rink at ice level doesn’t have very comfortable seating.

“It’s hard,” she admits. “I love Ian. He’s my twin. But I wanted this show to just be mine. Our careers have been so intertwined, like you said. And our mother is a big deal in the dance world too. I’m always an afterthought.” The flush on her cheeks deepens. “I want to be the Mackenzie in the spotlight. Just me. Because of what I’ve accomplished. Not something that people can say my mother or my brother helped me achieve.”

To lighten the mood, I bump Sophie’s shoulder with my own as I lace up my skates.

“You need me though, princess.”

She bumps me back. “I do, boyo. Don’t screw this up for me.”

Something wicked causes me to lean in and breathe into Sophie’s ear. “If there’s screwing between us, it’s not on the dance floor.”

Stone is looking everywhere but at us. I don’t know if moose shifters have the extra sensitive hearing that wolf shifters like me and Sophie do, but I trust he’ll pretend to have no clue.

“Oof.” The breath whooshes out of me when Sophie jams her elbow into my ribs. For never playing hockey, she’s mastered throwing elbows and body checks.

“Do you skate, Sophie?” Stone asks. “There’s a rental skate counter so we can get you a pair.”

Sophie shakes her head vehemently. “No. I can’t skate, and I can’t risk getting injured trying to learn how. I could invalidate my contract with the show if I was injured doing something risky like that and couldn’t perform. I’m not allowed to go horseback riding, skiing, or skydiving either. Not that there was any risk of me doing those things, anyway.”

“You don’t ride?” I ask.

“I don’t like horses. They’re big and smelly. I know Declan and Miranda are gaga for them, but not me. Even though I’m a shifter, I’m not really an animal person. I don’t kick puppies or anything, but I’m not into things crawling on me or licking me.”

My wiggling brows make her flush scarlet and Stone choke on a laugh. I shouldn’t be flirting with her like this, but I can’t help it.

She gestures toward the ice. “Go skate. Do your thing.”

“Are you staying?” I ask.

“For a bit, but then I’ll go back to my room. I’m exhausted. I don’t know how you have the energy to skate.”

Winking, I give my panty-melting smile. “I’m known for my stamina.”

Stone wrinkles his nose. “All righty. This has been fun. I’ll leave you two to do your thing.”

“We’re not doing anything!” Sophie calls after him as he steps onto the ice.

I get to my feet and prepare to follow him, but hold back and lower my voice, leaning in close enough to Sophie that I can smell her strawberry scent. “Not this very moment, we’re not. But we’re about due to consummate our fling, don’t you think, princess?” I wink and drop my gaze to her perfect lips. “Your place or mine tonight? Text me.” I skate away, feeling her pull like a magnet. I skate faster to break it. This fling is temporary. I can’t give her forever.