4. Hudson

4

HUDSON

“Have a seat, Rome.” Coach Evans gestures to the worn leather chair across from his desk. “Or should I just call you Romeo?” he says with a glowering look.

My jaw tenses. I fucking hate that name and the stigma that comes with it. It used to not bother me, but lately, I hate it more than ever. Unless it’s from my Juliet’s mouth.

“Rome is fine, sir.”

He smiles without a hint of humor and nods, taking a seat behind his desk, his hands folded over his stomach. The top of his desk is littered with folders and papers, along with pens bearing the Avalanches logo.

When he texted me that he wanted to meet with me, I was immediately wary. There are only ever two reasons he wants to see me in his office. One… to bitch me out for something. Or two… he wants to go over gameplay. And since it’s the off-season, that only leaves one thing.

“Thanks for coming in today. Sorry to pull you in on your time off, but I need to discuss something with you that unfortunately couldn’t wait.” He pauses, leaning back further in his chair. “You had a good season, Rome. Hope next year is just as exceptional.”

I nod. “Me too. I’m feeling strong. Feeling ready. Looking forward to camp and the season.”

It’s no secret that even though I perform better than any goalie he’s ever had, the man doesn’t like me. Never has. He’s seen my name in the headlines one too many times, seen what I’m like off the ice. He rode my ass so hard in the beginning of my career because he didn’t think my reputation was good for the team or my focus, and it took forever for me to prove myself.

Can’t say I blame him. My game speaks for itself now, but the perceptions about my extracurricular activities haven’t gone away, and that hangs over my head.

That’s the fucking problem. I have this reputation of being a playboy and not taking things seriously, and I want out.

I’m sick of carrying that shit on my back. I want to be known as something different, even if I don’t know what the hell that means right now.

So, he can feel however he wants to feel, but he can’t deny that I’m an asset to this team, no matter what they write about me on the internet.

“Glad to hear it. So, as you may have heard by now, since the guys on my team like to gossip like a bunch of women, my daughter moved to Chicago over the summer. She was living with her mother in Seattle, but is relocating to Chicago to attend the University of Northwestern.”

My brow furrows in confusion. Not sure why he asked me to come all the way down here to discuss his daughter.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Judging by the look on your face, you’re wondering what this has to do with you. Caroline is majoring in sports medicine at Northwestern, and part of her graduation requirement is an internship. Given our partnership with the organization, I set her up with one at Face-Off Foundation. And a few days ago, I got an email from PR letting me know that you’ve recently started working with them too. Generally, I don’t get involved in media stuff unless it’s affecting the team, but since you will be working with my daughter, I wanted to have a conversation with you.”

Well, at least he’s not fucking recommending me for a trade. I can breathe a little easier knowing that.

“Yeah, I’ve been working with Face-Off for the past couple of weeks. It’s been really rewarding. I’m coaching a team of thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds, and they’re great kids.”

The last three weeks have been like a breath of fresh air. I’m still figuring my shit out, but when I wake up in the morning, I feel… fulfilled. I look forward to going to the arena to teach them, and it’s been a while since I felt this happy. Refreshed.

“PR put you up to this? Are you in trouble that I haven’t heard about?” he asks, his dark brows furrowing with distaste, like he wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if I found myself in the headlines again. He would think that the only reason I’m doing this is because I’m trying to save face.

“No. I just… just really wanted to give back to the community. That’s all. Working with the kids on my team has been really fulfilling. I just want them to have the same opportunities that others have.”

Coach is silent when I finish speaking, his eyes searching mine like he has something to say but doesn’t.

Whether he believes me or not doesn’t matter. I’m not doing this as a publicity stunt; I’m doing this because working with these kids is fixing something inside of me that has been off for a long time.

“If you’re going to be working with this organization, Rome, I want no bullshit. You hear me? I find you on a gossip site making Face-Off or the Avalanches look bad, I’m going to lose my shit. You wanna do this and be the poster boy for the team? Fine. I’ll allow it, but if you fuck up, that’s it. The last thing I need on my hands is to clean up a damn PR nightmare. Especially with my daughter working there. Keep it in line. I mean it.” He pauses, sighing heavily. “Do right by these kids. You can’t half-ass it, and that includes half-ass committing to them. It’ll be hard to balance while you’re on the road, but you can’t shortchange them. They’re worth more than that.”

I swallow as I nod. “I know that. I have no intention of going anywhere. I’m in it for the long haul, Coach. I’ll be on my very best behavior.”

“And that includes my daughter. Keep an eye on her and make sure she’s okay. She’s in a new city, and I worry about her.”

Wow, the man does have a heart.

There’s a light rap at the door, interrupting his spiel, and his eyes flicker to the small window in the door. He raises his hand to wave them inside, pausing our conversation.

When the door clicks open, then shuts, I’m shocked to see Coach’s face transform into a wide smile. I can’t remember the last time I saw this man smile like this. Not even when we won the Stanley fucking Cup. It was a half-ass smirk, at best.

I turn in the chair to face the visitor, and the moment my gaze lands on her, my mouth runs dry. I almost swallow my fucking tongue.

Holy shit.

No fucking way.

What?

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

The girl staring back at me with the wide blue eyes, looking every bit as shocked as I am, is my Juliet.

The girl whose taste I haven’t stopped thinking about since I devoured her pussy in the broom closet of the arena.

“Hudson, this is my daughter, Caroline,” he introduces us just as panic claws up my throat, our eyes locking. “Caroline, this is Hudson Rome, my starting goalie. We were just discussing you.”

Words escape me. I can’t believe who I’m staring at and that I’m seeing her again.

There’s no fucking way this is happening right now.

I fucked my coach’s daughter… and she’s a college student…

Caroline Evans…

“Hi,” I finally croak, offering her a curt nod. My heart pounds in my chest so hard that I can hear the steady thrum in my ears as I try to stop the entire goddamn room from spinning around me.

She recovers much more quickly than I do and plasters on a fake smile, her pink-painted lips spreading. “Hi… Hudson. Nice to meet you.”

Her gaze moves to Coach, her fucking father.“Ready for lunch, Dad? I have a meeting at two…”

Fucking Christ. My coach’s daughter.

I fucked his daughter. God, I didn’t just fuck his daughter—I ate her pussy, sucked her cum off my fingers, and have beat off to the image of her soaked and spent nearly every day since.

My ass clenches at the thought of him finding out. If he hated me before? Pretty sure he’d lose his entire fucking mind if he found out that I defiled his daughter in a fucking broom closet while he drank champagne right down the hallway at the party.

He’d make my life fucking miserable. Go to the GM and demand I be traded because I’m an old fuck who literally slept with his daughter.

Jesus Christ.

My career would be over.

Before I could even blink.

Fuck, I don’t think there could be a worse situation to be in right now. Aside from a fucking career-ending injury, and even then…

“Uh… so, I’m gonna head out, Coach. Glad we’re on the same page. Thanks for the meeting today,” I mutter, rising from the chair. I’m desperate to get out of this fucking room. I can’t be in here another second, or I’m going to lose my shit.

He holds up his hand, halting me in my steps. “Wait a second, Rome. Sit.”

My ass hits the chair immediately.

Juliet… Caroline, whoever the fuck she is, looks like she’s as uncomfortable as I feel, and her throat bobs as she swallows, her eyes darting back to mine nervously.

“Care Bear, I found out a few days ago that Hudson is currently working with Face-Off, the foundation that I set your internship up with for this year.” He drags his gaze from me to Caroline—my Juliet—who tucks her hair behind her ear. “I asked him to be here today so you two could meet before you start at Face-Off. He’s going to help facilitate things since he’s currently already involved there.”

She looks like she might actually vomit but somehow manages to half-ass nod at his comment. “Sounds like a fun time.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Hudson, you’ll take care of my girl, right? Make sure if she needs anything, you’ll handle it?”

“I—” I bring my hand to my mouth and clear my throat since I can’t seem to fucking get the words out. “I can do whatever you need, Coach.”

“Great.”

He looks entirely too pleased with himself. If he only fucking knew…

If anyone knew…

My lips snap shut, and when I glance at her, her eyes have widened slightly in shock.

Yeah, join the fucking club, Bubblegum.

“Caroline, I’ve got to take a quick call, then we can leave. Okay?”

“Yep,” she squeaks, her smile not reaching her eyes. Even I can tell it’s fake, but Coach just nods and pats her hand affectionately before turning back to me.

“Thanks for coming in, Rome. I’ll see you for camp. If you need something, let me know.”

I nod. “Will do.”

“Oh, and thank you for looking out for Caroline.” He smiles, gazing lovingly at his daughter.

Clearing my throat, I squeak out a farewell pleasantry and slip out the door, desperate to get the hell out of these four walls.

Once I hear the door click closed behind me and I’m alone in the hallway, I suck in a deep breath, trying to keep the panic at bay.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I’m fucked.

Nah, fucked doesn’t even come close to what I’m going to be.

How could I be so goddamn stupid?

I’ve heard him mention his daughter a few times before, casual references at practice or during team meetings, but fuck, I hadn’t ever seen her. I couldn’t have picked her out of a lineup even if I wanted to. I didn’t even know her damn name.

Just like she wanted.

Even if that has haunted me since that night. That I was so stupid to not have gotten her name.

How was I supposed to know the sexiest girl on the goddamn planet was his daughter?

And now I have to work with her? Goddamnit. How in the hell am I supposed to be around this girl and not want to bend her over and repeat that night?

I sag against the wall, trying to calm the fuck down, when I hear the door open, and Caroline appears, stealing my breath in an entirely different way.

“Romeo? Really?” she screeches in a hushed whisper.

My eyes dart around the empty hallway, paranoid that someone will spot us talking, so I grab her hand and tug her into the deserted locker room that’s just down the hall from her father’s office.

Once we’re inside, without prying eyes, I whip to face her.

Her long blonde hair is pulled back from her face in a pink butterfly clip, and unlike the night we met, her face is free from makeup. Today, whether because I know now that she’s in fucking college or because she’s fresh-faced, she looks younger than she did that night.

The pink on her lips is a gloss, making her lips look even more supple, and if I were a better man, I wouldn’t want to pull her to me and suck the cherry flavor right the fuck off. She’s wearing a plain white T-shirt that shows the smallest amount of cleavage, with a pair of ripped jeans and a worn pair of Chucks.

Nothing like the girl I met that night, and fuck, if I don’t like it even more.

This casual version of her.

Goddamnit, Rome.

Get it the hell together.

This is a damn disaster, and lusting after a college girl who’s so off-limits it’s not even fucking funny is the last thing that I need. Now or ever.

“Did you know? Please tell me you didn’t know who the fuck I was that night and that this wasn’t some… I don’t know… scheme,” I say, stepping forward until the toe of her worn Chucks grazes mine, my chest heaving with panic. “You’re his fucking daughter, Caroline? Or should I call you Juliet?”

Annoyance, followed by anger, flits through her gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. I ignore the way it pushes her perky, full breasts against the material.

“Oh, that’s rich, accusing me of being some… cleat chaser or whatever the hell you call them. Of course I didn’t know who you were! I don’t know anything about his team. How was I supposed to know you were his player? God, I didn’t even know your name. If I remember correctly, you were the one who volunteered, Romeo.”

“Because that’s my goddamn nickname!” I whisper yell. It wasn’t a lie; it was just… not the entire truth.

She pauses, opening her mouth and raising her finger before closing it. “Oh, actually, that makes sense.”

Whipping around, I glance behind me at the door, ensuring that it’s still shut. Panic rises in my throat as I think of someone coming through the door and finding out what I’ve done.

I’m not usually this much of an asshole, but the fact that my entire life is flashing before my eyes is making me lose my damn mind. And I just started to feel like I was figuring shit out. Now, I’m knocked on my ass.

“Come on,” I hiss, pulling her deeper into the locker room. “Fuck, this is a goddamn mess. Do you realize what would happen if people find out what we did that night? How completely fucked I would be.”

“Dude, I had zero intention of ever seeing you again or anyone ever finding out. Don’t you remember? I’m the one who wanted to remain strangers,” she says, her voice laced with irritation. She cuts her gaze to the side, refusing to meet my eyes.

Part of me wants her to face me, to grab her by her chin and force her to look at me after what happened, for her to admit to whatever is still flowing between us right now rather than act like she never gave a shit.

Even though I’m freaking the fuck out and frustrated that I fucked up so royally, I can’t help my body’s reaction to her.

I’m drawn to her. The soft dip in her sides, her scent that is driving me goddamn wild, the memory of how she tasted.

The only thing I need to be doing right now is running for the door, putting space between us and whatever the hell happened that night.

I can’t even believe she’s standing in front of me right now.

“Goddamnit, and you’re in college? Are you even legal to drink?” I say, dragging a hand down my face before my gaze flits back to her.

She shrugs. “Sure. With a fake ID. I’ll be twenty-one… next year.”

I groan, rubbing at my temples, which suddenly ache. Fuck, it keeps getting worse and worse. Coach’s co-ed daughter, and we got drunk on thousand-dollar champagne she can’t even buy. “Jesus fucking Christ. You can’t even legally get into the bar. I’m so fucked. You’re his daughter. My coach’s daughter. And I’m thirty-three. I’m thirteen years older than you.”

I realize I’m rambling, but shit. My hands roam over the short, buzzed hair at my scalp. A habit that never left, even after I cut off all of my hair.

“Thirteen is really not that much… Look, why are you making this a bigger deal than it has to be?” she whisper-yells.

Somehow, in the span of our conversation, her back has hit the wall opposite the door, with me towering over her small frame. Her stormy eyes hold mine in a silent face-off. She may be short compared to me, but she’s a force.

“We hooked up. Lots of people have meaningless sex, and that’s exactly what it was. Meaningless sex, and I barely even came. Not like it was mind-blowing. So no worries, Romeo—your secret is safe with me.” She says it so sweetly her insult practically drips with the sugar of her words.

So she has a smart fucking mouth, and she’s a liar. Two things I’ve learned in the past few minutes.

“Yeah? Pretty sure you came several times, and one of them was on my fucking face.” My voice is low, barely above a whisper, and laced with things it shouldn’t. I’m thinking things that I can’t be thinking about.

Not my coach’s daughter.

Not a girl that’s thirteen years younger than me, a girl living a whole different life than I am.

But it doesn’t stop my dick from jerking at the thought of the taste of her pussy on my tongue.

“If you want to lie to yourself, fine.” I pause, my eyes dragging over her chest, which heaves beneath my stare until I trail my eyes back up to meet hers. “But I know the truth. I know that if I were to reach into the waistband of those panties, I’d find you drenched, just like you were that night. But whatever happened between us won’t happen again, regardless of whatever sexual chemistry we have. My fucking career is at stake. This isn’t just some game. I could lose everything. When we see each other at Face-Off, we keep things strictly professional. Okay?”

For a moment, I see the defiance in her eyes, the need to disobey, and part of me wishes that she would. Just so I could be the one to fuck it right out of her.

But her expression changes as she pushes off the wall until her front is pressed tightly against mine. “Like I said, I was okay with meaningless sex, but you’re obviously still hung up on it. I won’t be thinking of that night or you at all. It’ll be like it never happened.”

Her soft, supple, forbidden body is molded to my own, my arms caging her in.

“I guess that makes you a liar, then, Juliet.”

“I guess that makes you one too, Romeo.” She smirks. “Thanks for the okay-ish dick.”

With that, she ducks under my arm and disappears out of the locker room door, leaving me with a painful hard-on and wishing that she was anyone other than the one girl I can never fucking have.

* * *

“So, how’d it go?”Briggs asks the moment I flop down onto his couch and sigh heavily. “He ream your ass?”

After I got my dick under control, I drove straight to Briggs’ house, and the entire ride here, I thought about nothing but the smart-mouthed blonde. Oh, and the fact that I’m fucked, royally.

I have no idea how the hell I’m going to do this. Be around her and pretend that it never happened.

“About that…”

All of their eyes snap to me, whipping from the video game he, Asher, and Reed are playing.

Chaney’s working on some blanket he’s knitting because apparently, men who are in touch with their feminine side get more girls. So he’s taken up a new hobby. Not going to lie, seeing him with a pair of knitting needles and his eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration is almost enough to make me crack a smile.

I’ll have to fuck with him another time.

“I think the universe may be fucking with me because I am completely fucked,” I say miserably.

“Told you not to fuck with the universe, dude. How many times did I tell you that?” Chaney mutters, not looking up from the blue yarn in his hands.

“Shut up.”

Briggs pauses the game and gives me his full attention. “What happened?”

Reed and Asher follow suit, all eyes on me as I take a deep breath. “I saw my Juliet again today…”

Reed’s eyebrows raise. “Mystery girl?”

I nod. “Yup. Turns out she’s not all that hard to find. Not that I was looking. She’s the coach’s fucking daughter, and she walked right into the meeting.”

Groans sound around the room, and Reed drops the controller onto the floor in shock. “No. Fuck no. Fuckkkkk no, Hudson,” he says as he fumbles for it.

I sigh. “I know. Trust me, I fucking know. I’m completely fucked.” I sit up and drag my hand over my hair. “Imagine if Coach finds out.”

“I actually do not want to imagine that. You’re a pain in the ass, but it’s better than you being dead,” Briggs says. He sets his controller down on the coffee table and sighs. “Because you know that’s what’s going to happen when he finds out you fucked his daughter, Hudson. His only daughter. The one that he gets all weird and starry-eyed about when he talks about like she hung the damn moon. His baby girl.”

Shit, it sounds so much worse when he says it like that. Imagine if he knew that I fucked her throat and basically called her my slut.

“Christ.” I drop my head in my hands and groan, the sound rumbling from my chest. “What do I do?”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t do shit.” This comes from Chaney, who sighs like this entire situation is trivial and sets down the knitting needles. “Look, did you talk to her? What happened when you both realized what happened?”

“I mean, I didn’t say, ‘Wow, you’re the girl I tongue fucked in the broom closet,’ in front of Coach Evans, rookie. After I walked out, she followed me into the locker room, and we talked. Well, I guess you can call it talking. I was a fucking asshole and all but lost my shit.”

Reed groans as he stands from the couch and starts pacing the room in typical Reed fashion. “Of course you were.” He runs his hand through his mop of curls as I speak.

“Listen, I freaked the fuck out, okay? Wouldn’t you? It’s not like either of us knew who the other was when it happened. At the time, we were complete strangers. She said she never intended to see me again, which is why she never volunteered her name, and she didn’t understand why I was freaking out.”

“Oooh, bet your ego loved hearing that.” Asher smirks from his spot on the couch, where he’s still got his sketchbook open on his lap. My best friend is different than he used to be, especially since meeting Auden, but one thing remains: he is a snarky little fucker.

I pick up one of Maddison’s frilly throw pillows and chuck it at his head, which he deftly ducks, the pillow hitting the wall behind him.

“Exactly,” Chaney interjects. “You’re not going to say shit, and clearly, she isn’t either because Coach Evans hasn’t found you and strung you up by your balls. She’s not telling him. So, play it cool. Dude, sex is a form of self-expression. Be. Cool.”

I’m getting lectured by a kid that’s barely out of his teenage years who’s knitting on the couch like my ninety-year-old grandmother. This is the shit that I have to deal with. But he is basically Caroline’s age, so maybe I should listen to him for once.

“He’s right though,” Reed says, finally pausing the incessant pacing. “Keep your head down, and for the love of god, Hudson, leave her the fuck alone. You fucked up, alright? It is what it is, and yeah, you didn’t know, but this is your career. If he finds out, he’s going to make your life hell, or worse, he’s gonna try for a trade. You know it. We know it.”

“I know that. Fuck, I know,” I say.

“So no matter what you feel about her, no matter how bad you want to… you have to stay away from her. You can’t go there again,” Reed finishes.

“Gonna be kinda hard when Coach has her working at Face-Off. Apparently, she’s doing her sports med internship there.”

Briggs whistles. “Damn. Then, just be professional. Treat her like you would anyone else you work with there.”

I nod.

I know they’re right, and I’d be out of my fucking mind if I thought about her in any sense that isn’t strictly platonic ever again. Hockey is all I have, and even though I’m trying to find who I am outside of that, it’s been my life for so long that I can’t risk losing everything I’ve worked for. It’s too late in my career to jeopardize the years I have left.

From here on out, Caroline Evans is off-limits.

I just have to get my head… and my dick… on board with that.