2. Emile

2

EMILE

I rip my gloves off my hands and glare at the locker door as I slam it shut. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. This week has been an absolute mess since we played the Texas Tankers last week. We lost so bad it wasn’t funny but that wasn’t the worst part.

I saw her. I don’t know who the hell she is but I can’t seem to forget about her. Her auburn hair gleamed in the arena lighting like a copper penny and when I locked eyes with her, hers were the most perfect shade of blue I’ve ever seen in my life. So light and bright that they looked like ice chips on a sunny day.

I shake myself and groan, palming my aching cock which is pushing damn hard against my cup and killing me.

“Hey, LaCourt! Get your ass back here!” The coach’s sharp voice grinds on my nerves and I groan.

Alexie grunts next to me and pats my shoulder so hard he almost slams me to the floor. “Coach is not happy.”

I roll my eyes and slam the rest of my stuff into my locker and stalk away. “That’s a god-damned understatement, man.”

I follow him into his little office and groan when I see that Vic is in there too.

Fucking great!

On any given day, coach was called Iceberg for a reason. He tends to keep calm no matter what.

Right now, he’s not that guy. I know he’s taking a lot of heat because we’re not where we need to be. The guys are all good but we’re not meshing as well as we could be. Should be.

Vic on the other hand is a bomb waiting to go off. And she’s got her sights set on me.

“What the hell’s been going on with you this week, LaCourt? Your head doesn’t seem to be in the game at all. We’ve got a packed season and it’s like you’re off in Lala land. Tell me why the hell I shouldn’t move one of the other guys up to first string and let you ride the bench for awhile,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, Coach. I’m not sure what’s wrong. But I’ll get my act together before the game tomorrow night.”

Friday night’s game is against the Kansas City Crusaders and we’re so far down in the standings that we’re guaranteed a loss. Unless we all start to work better as a team.

“You better or I’ll bench you so fast your fucking head will spin.” He sits back and crosses his arms on his chest. “You need to be better than this. I need a center who’s got his head on straight and can make the big moves that we need if we’re gonna pull our asses out of the hole we’ve managed to get into.”

I nod my head. “Yes, Coach. I understand.”

He stands up and Vic just watches us silently. I feel like she wants to say more but Coach is walking me out.

“I hope you do. We’ve got a lot riding on these games coming up. Something needs to click with this team.”

I walk out as quickly as I can. Hoping that I can get away without having to actually admit why my head’s a mess. Especially since I don’t really know why it is.

I just keep wondering about that girl. When I saw her she was smiling, her bright eyes glowing with happiness. Her friend was turned around and they were obviously laughing together about something.

As soon as her gaze crashed with mine, something electric zipped all the way down to my toes. It was like being hit with a lightning bolt and I almost turned around to look and see if it was storming but that would have been crazy in a closed building.

I strip off the rest of my clothes and throw them in to wash and hit the showers, groaning when the hot water hits my skin. Every damn part of me hurts today. I think a few of the guys might have decided to try to get my attention and straighten out my thoughts.

I soap up and immediately my mind starts picturing her again. She was wearing a T-shirt and jacket and a pair of slim jeans that showed off some of the most dangerous and fantastic curves I’ve ever seen in my life. My dick starts to hit half-mast and I groan, pushing away thoughts of her and running through drills in my head, picturing the offsides play that I had in the last game that ended up costing us in the end.

“Hey! You wanna go out to the Summit tonight? I hear there’s a good band playing and there’s bound to be a lot of girls in there. Maybe even some puck bunnies that would be willing to play around a bit!”

The younger player is on the fourth string, a right wing. Peter, I think.

I know I shouldn’t go out tonight. Practice was rough. I’m tired and it’s gonna be a rough match-up tomorrow. But I don’t want to go home to my big, empty house and stare at the walls and try not to get all fucked in the head thanks to a pair of icy blue eyes and curves for days.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

He fist pumps at me and grins. “Yeah, man. Time to have a little fun.”

He crashes back into the locker room hollering about the night and I sigh, leaning against the wall. I have a feeling I just made a huge mistake. I hope it doesn’t cost me the game tomorrow. I don’t want to get moved down to second string center. I know I’m getting a bit older but I’m not out of the mix yet. I’ve got a good five or more years left. As long as I don’t fuck things up.

I get dressed and grab my huge black SUV out of the players’ section of the lot. It doesn’t take long to reach the Summit and as soon as I step inside the door, I wish that I had stayed home. It’s packed and there seems like no room to sit. Bodies mill around and I bump into someone who turns to glare at me, their stare smoothing out when they see who I am.

The Colorado Frostwolves might not be the best team out there right now but they’re still the home team and we still command some respect everywhere we go.

“Hey man. Sorry about that. Didn’t see you there.” He nods his head at me and I try not to laugh. I’m six foot four and weigh 230 lbs. I’m not sure how the hell you don’t see me.

But I just nod at him and then grin when I see the guys at a couple of tables pushed together in the side of the bar.

I make my way over and sit down with a sigh, grunting and nodding at the guys here. It’s mostly the younger, third and fourth string guys. The newer ones on the team that haven’t put in their time yet. But I do see Snow Beast and Iceman. Iceman has been having a rough string lately and he barely talks to anybody.

Snow Beast is well-known for fighting and a bar seems like it might not be the best place for him. And I don’t think anybody’s gonna tell him that he shouldn’t be here.

Definitely not me.

The server stops by and grins at me, her eyes sparkling with temptation as she runs her gaze up and down my body. “Well, well. Frostbite. I see you’ve been having a bit of a rough streak. I bet I could fix that for you.” She giggles.

I fight to keep the disgust off of my face. I don’t like puck bunnies and I sure as hell don’t like being propositioned. I like to be the one doing the asking. Push me and I’ve got no interest in you. Simple as that. I like a challenge.

This girl is no challenge at all.

But I’ve got to be nice to the fans so you can’t just tell them off. I gotta keep that shit under control and make sure that our fans aren’t disappointed.

I smile at her. “I’m sorry. But thank you for the offer. Very generous of you.”

She smirks. “You can cash in that offer whenever you want to. Just so you know.”

I smile like I’m actually considering it even though I’m not.

“What would you like?”

“I’d just like a beer. Whatever’s on tap. I’m not picky.”

She grins and pats my arm, her fingers lingering on my bicep. “Good to know. I’ll get that for you.”

I keep the smile plastered on my face with some effort. When she leaves, I glance around and my whole body goes still and then lights up like a fireworks display.

I only got a glimpse of her from a fair distance but I know those curves and that glorious rusty auburn hair curling around slim shoulders.

I stiffen when I realize that she’s sitting with two men and the woman who was at the arena with her.

One of the guys leans into her and I can tell that she’s on a date. My heart jumps and then a pain streaks across my chest. I rub at it and eye the table closely. I listen to the guys around me discuss our chances but I can’t see anything or anyone but her.

After about a minute, I see her head come up and she starts glancing around the bar. It takes her about half a minute and I see her laser-blue eyes widen, her body stiffening.

I stand up and shift over so that I can see what’s going on at that table. She’s startled but her face is flushed and I can tell that she looks pissed. Her friend is happily chatting with the guy she’s with and it looks like they know each other quite well if the way they’re touching each other every chance they get is any indication.

On the other hand, she’s stiff as a board, her smile is forced and there’s no happiness in her smile or her eyes. If I had to guess, I’d say this was a fix-up and she’s not happy about it.

But I know one thing. The guy reaches over and tries to lift her onto his lap and I see red.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is, touching what’s mine?

I jerk to a stop when I realize that I’m on my way across the room and I’m pissed as hell. I want to rearrange this guy’s face and then I want to drag her out of here and steal her away with me.

That’s fucked up, right?

I don’t even know her name or anything about her. I can’t just walk up and destroy a guy and steal his date.

Can I?

But his octopus hands reach out and try to grab her again and she’s struggling and that’s it for me.

I stalk across the room and glare down at the guy’s head, grunting when he doesn’t even look up. Death is staring at him and he’s so stupid or drunk he doesn’t even see it.

But she does. She stills and I see her face go pale and then flush bright red when she sees me stop beside them.

“Get your hands off of her, man. Before I fucking break them.”

The guy finally realizes that the grim reaper is standing right next to him and he looks up and pales.

“Hello? Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” I point at the woman sitting there glaring at me with her mouth hanging open. “She doesn’t want you touching her so I think that you should get your filthy hands off of her.”

“Or what, buddy?”

Okay, clearly he’s not that smart or he’s got a death wish. Not really sure which it is.

But I pick him up by the scruff of the neck and shake him like a rag doll.

“She would like you to keep your fucking hands to yourself,” I growl, low and rough.

“Hmph! I think she can talk for herself.”

She stands up, visibly shaking, her face pink and her eyes so bright they could cut glass. “She can speak for herself and she’s been saying it all night. Keep your dang hands to yourself. Now I think I’ll go.”

She smirks at me as she steps away.

But the idiot just can’t let her go and he grabs her arm. A rumble of some feral noise rips out of me when she flinches. But that’s all the warning he’s getting.

I grab his arm and jerk it away from her, slamming my fist into his face and putting every bit of my hate into that one punch.

He falls to the ground, out cold.

I shake my fist out and smile at her. “What’s your name?”

Her eyes are wide and she stares at me like I should be wearing a fucking mask. Like I’m a criminal. “Sassy. I need to go.”

“I’ll take you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It absolutely is. Let’s go, angel.”

I grasp her elbow, feeling a zap of electricity in my fingers. They tingle and I stretch them on her soft skin. I lift the coat on the back of the chair and hold it out for her to put on, tucking her into it and fluffing her hair, my fingers lingering on the silky curtain. We leave the bar that’s gone eerily quiet except for the guy writhing on the floor as he comes to.

But I don’t give a shit about any of it. I found what I’ve been looking for for the last week and I finally feel my focus coming back.

I’m just not sure if it’s great that it’s all on the tiny woman walking beside me.