Finding His One

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by K. L. Fast




  Finding His One

  A Finding His Love Novella

  KL Fast

  Flirty Filth Publishing

  Contents

  BLURB

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books By KL Fast

  Dedicated to the hot guys of hockey who inspired Kobe.

  BLURB

  In an arena of 17,000 screaming fans, I shouldn't have noticed her: On the away team's side sporting my rival's jersey, but I did.

  Now she's mine.

  Watching him on the ice is nothing like seeing him up close and personal.

  Now he's mine.

  There's no room for fouls, but the sin box is another story altogether.

  This KL Fast novella will melt the ice as well as your Kindles.

  Chapter One

  Kobe “Beefcake” Walker

  For the longest time, hockey was all I did. My third year on the Grandview Ice Hawks brought me some troubling times. I had a stalker. It was intense, and very “boil your bunny.” All it did was open my eyes to the fact that I was becoming a liability to my sister. There was no way I could keep putting her in danger. I stopped doing anything that wasn't hockey related or had to with my family. I am big on family. My sister getting married two years ago started me on the path but now I've also watched my teammates find love, get married, and start their families. I hate the empty feeling it has left in me.

  The very first woman I sleep with will also be the very last. I don’t announce the fact that I am a virgin, but I am also not ashamed of it.

  The division playoffs start in two days and I am more than ready. The game has me pitted against my rival, Gerry Roberts. He's the captain of the Fredericksburg Glaciers and I hate that dick. We are the top two scoring teams in the New England division with the Hawks leading marginally by two goals. I refuse to give up the lead and superstitions have started in full force. I stopped shaving after our last game, and I've got a good bit of growth going. It won't be shaved until we clench the league championship for the second year in a row. Same socks, same hockey stick, God willing and the same tee shirt under my jersey that I had last year. It's gross, I know, but it works. Today, I don't have practice and my sister, Elsie, needed a sitter since her husband, Zaxary, a Canadian hockey player she met through me, is out of town for a game, so here I am. He plays for the Buffalo team. Grandview is where they decided to settle as it is roughly halfway between Buffalo and the City. I am currently sitting on the couch at my sister's place watching The Power Rangers for the fourth time since I've been here. I am also completely surrounded by a massive number of stuffed animals. My nephew, Zax, is two and completely enthralled by both the dolls and the Power Rangers. Not that I can blame him, I used to be too, way back in the day. Power Rangers that is. It's a pretty easy gig. He's tucked up next to me watching the show. He's the kind of kid who doesn't like messes, so I just know the baby my sister is carrying now is going to be a messy Marvin.

  The next thing I know, Elsie is shaking me awake. It takes less than two seconds to realize that Zax is snuggled on my chest, and he's peed through his diaper. That's probably my fault, I didn’t change him before his nap. I stand, still holding him. He's a hard sleeper, so I get him changed and into his bed without waking him.

  As this isn't the first time this has happened nor will it be the last, I head into the guest room and pull one of my fresh shirts off the hanger in the closet and change. On my way back to the living room, I toss my dirty shirt into the hamper in the laundry room.

  "How was your appointment?" I ask Elsie, who is unloading the dishwasher.

  "Good. Baby Deveraux is healthy and on track to be born in ten short weeks," she says excitedly.

  "Excellent news," I reply.

  "You staying for dinner? I'm making your favorite," she sing-songs.

  "As if I could turn down chili," I respond taking over the dishes. "Get off your feet," I tell her. When she's seated at a bar stool, I continue. "When is Zaxary due back?"

  "Tonight. Late. He didn't want to go and leave me here, so thank you for helping out."

  "Thanks aren't necessary, Elsie. I'm your family. And you guys are all I've got."

  Our parents died in a car accident about seven years ago. I was twenty-five and living in British Columbia playing hockey. Elsie was barely thirteen. I hated that I had to uproot and move her three thousand miles, but I was under contract. She took it like a champ and thought of it as an adventure. Elsie and I grew up in Brooklyn, New York, in a stylish brownstone with our parents. It pained us to sell it after they passed away, but I didn’t have the kind of time needed to provide for proper upkeep or give it the attention it needed.

  "Speaking of, when are you going to find a wife?" she asks raising her eyebrows at me.

  "Trust me, you'll be the second to know," I say chuckling.

  "Who's the first?"

  "Her. Whoever she is."

  After dinner, I head home. My bland McMansion sits on a cul de sac. It has no style and I am not all attached to it. It could burn down tomorrow, and I'd be fine. Nothing of importance is in here. All my important papers, my passport, and my grandmother's engagement ring are in my safety deposit box at the bank downtown.

  Grandview is less than two hours from the city, but after five years it still doesn't feel like home. Prior to playing for Grandview, I was a BC Anvil up in Canada. That wasn't home either. After a hot shower, I hit the sack though it's early. My pre-game rituals aren't going to do themselves. The puck doesn't drop until seven, but I have a full day of light exercise, carb loading, a short nap, and meditation before I ever even suit up. I have done these things in that exact order since I went pro. In high school and college, I did a variation of these steps depending on classes and what day the game was on but for the most part these four things paired with my superstitions make for a most excellent game. For some reason, I can't sleep.

  Something huge is coming and I don't like that it will take me by surprise. After an hour of trying, I give up and reach for the control. Turning on the TV, I settle for D3: The Mighty Ducks, the best of the franchise if you ask me, until I fall asleep.

  The lack of my usual ten hours sleep better not fuck with my ability to kick Robert's and the rest of the Glacier's asses.

  Time will tell.

  Chapter Two

  Isabella “Izzy” Roberts

  “Izzy, please you have to take me with you to your brothers’ game. PLEASE!” I roll my eyes at my best friend.

  “Colleen, I have no idea what you see in him. He is gross. But fine, you can come with me.” She squeals and jumps off the couch and flings her arms around me squeezing me so tight, I can barely breathe.

  “Oh my God! I love you! Thank you!” She hugs me even tighter.

  “Colleen, can’t breathe,” I gasp out. She lets me go.

  “I have to go find something to wear,” she calls out as she runs to her bedroom. Oh, did I forget to mention that we are also roommates. We have been best friends since we were in the second grade when Mr. Yeller sat her next to me in class. She told me she was going to be my friend and twelve years later we are still thick as thieves. I am a month older than her so when I turned eighteen, we told our parents we were going to move out of their houses. We moved to New York City to pursue our dreams of becoming fashion designers. While I am more of a wedding dress and ball gown kind of girl, while Colleen is more of a baby clothes and maternity wear girl.

  We both are in our first year of design school. We live in a nice upscale two-bedroom apar
tment in NYC that my brother insisted we live in. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. The minute he heard that Colleen and I were going to move in together, he said there was no way in hell he would let us live in a shitty apartment, if we were going to stay in the city. I thought it was a little overprotective but all it did was make Colleen all blushy and gooey. When he said it, I just rolled my eyes because it was nothing new. With him being five years older than us he made it his business to be all up in our business.

  He told us both that he didn't want us to worry about getting jobs that he just wanted us to worry about school and graduating. However, there was no way in hell I was going to have him pay for everything, so I got a part time job working at a bridal shop and I fucking love it. I walk into my room. I don't often go to games mainly because I hate to be hit on by my brother’s teammates and the other reason is because I fucking hate going by myself. Eli gets all huffy when I try to take Colleen and it's not like I have a lot of other friends, but when I do go I have a pair of knee high black running socks that have pandas on them that I have to wear. Call it superstition, but whenever I go to one of his games, if I don't wear the socks he loses. So, I think of it as my way of giving him a little good luck. After I put on a pair of jeans, a tank top, my brother’s jersey, and my lucky socks, I text him.

  Me: Hey Buttface, I’m coming to see you play have them leave me two seats.

  Bro: Is Colleen coming?

  Me: no

  I feel weird about lying to him, but it’s his own fault, really. He gets so fucking weird when I bring her.

  Bro: Then why do you need two?

  I bite my nails and think of something to say I cringe a little at the idea that comes into my head, but it will have to do.

  Me: I have a date

  Bro: -_-

  Me: =)

  He sends me a gagging GIF. You know the one where they look like the person is going to throw up and I laugh. My brother plays for the Fredericksburg Glaciers hockey team and has been for the last four years. He is the centerman on the team, but he also plays a mean defense. Tonight is the first division playoff game and one he has been talking about for months. It starts in three hours, which is just enough time to get up to Grandview, find parking, and get a big ass foam finger with nachos before the game starts. I quickly pull my hair into a high ponytail and put on some mascara and eyeliner then make my way to the living room where Colleen is waiting for me.

  “You ready?” she asks.

  “Yep let's go.” I was totally right. We get there just in time it takes us a few minutes to get to our seats. Elijah got us good seats We are almost on the ice. Shit! He is so going to notice right off the bat that I did not bring a date. After the National Anthem, the players take the ice, doing quick speed drills. I look over to see if I can find Elijah. Before I can spot him, the hair on the back of my neck stands up and I get the feeling that someone is staring at me. I look around quickly and find number sixty-nine of the other team, the Ice Hawks, staring straight at me with his pale green eyes blazing fire. He has a thick beard and amazing lips. His mouth set in a firm almost determined line. I feel like he is seeing inside my soul, yet I am helpless to look away. The referee blows the whistle and drops the puck. The spell his broken. I shake my head to clear it.

  “What the fuck was that? Did you see the way that dude was looking at you?” Colleen asks.

  “I have no idea what that was all about.” The game is intense and brutal. Eli and number sixty-nine, or as the back of his jersey says, Walker, are trying to beat the shit out of each other on the ice.

  While I should be worried for my brother, I can’t seem to take my eyes off of number sixty-nine.

  Chapter Three

  Kobe

  I am distracted by the beauty just to the right of the penalty box in the first row. I am pissed that she is sporting Roberts' jersey but all I can hope is at this point that she's just a fan of the team or him, but not his girl. Despite all my superstitions, I am beginning to think that I am playing so well because of her. Whoever she is.

  Another goal. Another glance at her. This happens three more times, all before intermission. Every time I look at her, she's looking back at me. Despite the high stakes of this game, I want her now. I can't stop thinking about her. Once back on the ice, I play like a man possessed. Fifteen short minutes later, we secured the win. Thank fuck my distraction didn’t cost us the game. When the buzzer sounds, and I look up again she’s gone. Did I imagine her? I couldn't have.

  As I am walking to the locker room, I must pass the visitor’s locker room. I see her leaning against the wall with a short, blonde girl standing next to her. When Roberts comes out dressed in a suit, her smile widens, and he pulls her into a hug.

  “Oh, hell no,” I mutter under my breath. Without thinking, I drop my stick. Everyone around looks at me. Ignoring the stares, I march over to them, grip her arm and pull her away from him.

  “What the fuck is your problem, Walker?” Roberts asks as he steps in front of the other girl instead of protecting the one, I can't stop thinking about. Also, what seemed like a good idea minutes ago, probably wasn't. "You gonna answer me, Walker?"

  "Nah, no excuse really."

  "You're Beefcake Walker, aren't you?" the blonde girl asks from behind Roberts, which earns a growl from him.

  "Your name is Beefcake?" My girl asks. I can tell she's trying not to laugh.

  "That's just a nickname. My name is Kobe. And you are?"

  "Isabella Roberts," she says extending her hand to me which I take. A jolt of electricity zaps me but I don't let go. Her little surprised gasp tells me she felt it too.

  "Please, God, tell me you aren't married to that putz," I groan, gesturing to Roberts.

  "Ewww. No. He's my older brother," she says shuddering. Thank fuck for that. Grinning, I step a little closer to her. I have to get to know her better.

  "How about we grab a drink, babe?" I ask smoothly, even though I don't drink.

  "Ooh. I'd love to, but I have other plans," she says, pausing. "You know what, I don't. I'm just, uh, not interested, but thanks for asking." What the fuck? I watch in shock as she grabs her friend's hand and drags her away. Fucking figures. Just my shitty luck that the one woman made for me doesn't fucking want me. Roberts comes up to me and claps me on the back.

  "Coulda been worse, trust me. She used to throw things at people she hated as a kid," he says laughing as he walks towards them.

  I go home in a daze. After a hot shower, I grab my laptop in order to do some old-fashioned Facebook stalking. I don't think I've done this shit since college. Finding her page was easy. I learn the blonde girl from earlier is her best friend, Colleen. I also learn she's single and into fashion. At 6'3, I'm used to towering over people, but Isabella is shorter than most. She barely reached my pecs. Her curvy little body was made to be handled by me. Her bright blue eyes are something I could get lost in. Her gorgeous long brown hair is curly and just a little bit wild. I can't help imagining what it will look like after a night of owning her. I have to find her and win her over. There's no fucking way I can live without her now that I know she exists. Giving up on the stalking for the night, I'm about to shut my laptop down when I receive an alert about the team. Opening the webpage attached, I learn that the team made an eleventh-hour trade, Eli Roberts will be joining the Ice Hawks tomorrow. Though instead of centerman, he'll be a defenseman stepping in for our injured one. Freddy Solcek. At first, I was pissed, but now I see it for the opportunity it is.

  The following morning, there's a team meeting at the corporate offices. I'm about three minutes later than I wanted to be, but it hasn't started yet. Roberts is sitting alone in the corner. Hockey teams are loyal to one another. So, I sit down next to him.

  "Morning, Roberts. Welcome to the Ice Hawks," I say shaking his hand.

  "Thanks, man."

  "You know my beef with you was just on the ice, don't you?"

  "Yeah. Don't worry about it. Today's all about being a tea
m player.

  I try to stay focused on the meeting, but my mind wanders to Isabella yet again. Something has to be done about this.

  I begin to formulate a plan to win Roberts over. I need his sister's number and he's the way to get it sooner rather than later.

  After the meeting, I take Eli out to lunch to Taco Heaven. It's a nice sit-down place, with lots of options. Over lunch, we talk mostly about the game and his odd postseason trade, but he doesn't seem too broken up about it. Then the subject turns toward his sister's roommate/best friend, Colleen. After his seventh beer, he opens up more about her, which allows me to steer the conversation toward Isabella.

  Briefly, he confirms what I learned about her last night. I feel bad that I used his almost drunk state to get his sister's phone number, but not that bad.

  After all, she's the one. The only one who will be my wife, my love, my everything. Now, to get her to see that.

  Chapter Four

  Izzy

  Who the hell is calling me this late? I groan and roll over to grab my phone from my nightstand and glare at the intrusive number. I swear to God, if this is some scam telling me about my car warranty, I am going to freak out.

 

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