by Toni Aleo
Aynslee was stunned as he hurried to the car and quickly disappeared inside. Then, still not able to catch her breath—or move, for that matter—she watched the driver get in and pull away from the curb. Unexpected tears rushed to her eyes as the car drove away.
He was gone.
Chapter 3
“He just drove away?”
Aynslee nodded as she leaned against the counter in the teachers’ lounge of New Life Christian School. Her friend and colleague Sadie Wallace looked as confused and shocked as Aynslee had felt when she’d watched Jordan ride away. It still didn’t make sense! In her head, he’d asked for her number, they’d chatted for another second or so, and then she was flat on her back in that town car. It would have been a long and satisfying trip home. For both of them. Aynslee would have seen to that.
Looking up at Sadie, Aynslee shook her head. Sadie had been married for four years to her sweet nerdy husband, Phil, and was pregnant with their first child.
Stupefied, Aynslee said, “Yes, with nothing but a see-you-later! I swore, Sadie, that we had chemistry; I could feel it in my bones, and I really thought he was into me!”
Sadie nodded her head in agreement. “Well, of course he was—you’re hot as hell, Ayns—but it doesn’t make sense. Do you think he’s, like, a weirdo or something and that’s why? Or maybe he’s gay!”
“That man was not gay. I know a gay man when I see one, and, let me tell you, this man had sex written all over him. Hot, lusty, yummy, female-on-male sex, and, God, did I want him.”
Sadie giggled a little as she rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, then, I have no clue,” she said, chewing on her lip.
“I really thought he could be the one. I felt the sparks when he looked at me, Sadie. I couldn’t believe when he walked away.”
Sadie smiled as she asked, “Are you sure it wasn’t just lust?”
Aynslee shook her head. “No, there was lust and want too—believe me, my dress wasn’t the only thing that was wet. But, seriously, it was more than that. At least I thought it was. And now I will probably never see him again,” she sighed.
Sadie reached out, taking Aynslee’s hand and squeezing it the way she did with her third-grade students.
“If it is meant to be, y’all will find each other,” Sadie said in a reassuring way, and then she asked, “Have you tried to Google him?”
“That’s creepy. I’d be like a stalker or something.”
Sadie laughed. “No, you won’t. You know his full name, right?”
Aynslee nodded. “Yeah, Jordan Ryan.”
“Interesting … I swear I know that name,” Sadie said, as she pulled out her phone and entered his name. Aynslee watched as she typed. When Sadie added Nashville, all of a sudden the word Assassins came up beside it. “I knew it!”
Aynslee looked up at her, confused. “What? Knew what? What is Assassins?”
Sadie touched Jordan’s name, and soon his picture, along with other information, was on her phone. Aynslee had no idea what any of it meant, but Jordan’s beautiful face was staring back at her. His hair was falling in his bright eyes, while his face was covered in the sexy dark scruff that made Aynslee’s knees weak.
Sheesh, he was hot.
“He is a hockey player! He’s the backup goalie for the Assassins.”
Aynslee was even more confused. The sweet, socially awkward guy she had shared a plane ride with was a hockey player? Weren’t hockey players assholes who loved to fight and beat people up? She always thought most of them didn’t have any teeth. Didn’t they have females at their beck and call?
“Really?”
“Yup. He used to be Phil’s favorite player, but then Odder was brought up when Ryan was hurt, so now Phil’s an Odder fan. Ryan hasn’t been the same since the injury.”
“Injury? When was that?”
“Like, two years ago? Ryan has been filling in while Odder had some family stuff going on. I think his girlfriend was hurt or something—I don’t know, I’m not obsessed like Phil is. I only watch hockey for the hot guys. Have you seen Shea Adler or, hell, even Jakob Titov? Holy mother of hot hockey players!”
Aynslee said, “Not only do I have no clue what you are talking about, but I had no idea you loved hockey so much.”
Sadie laughed. “Oh, yes, hockey is a part of life.”
Aynslee shook her head. “I always thought hockey was a violent sport, for violent people.”
Sadie put her hand on her chest, obviously offended by Aynslee’s words.
“Hockey is violent but no more so than football, and, besides, the guys are amazing. The Assassins are very involved with our community. They came to the school last year and did things with the kids, and they hold events for disadvantaged children too. They are awesome guys—I mean, look at Aiden Brooks.”
“Yeah?” she said, knowing that Sadie was talking about one of Aynslee’s third-graders.
“His dad is a hockey player; he’s a forward for the Assassins.”
Aynslee was completely shocked. “Really? He is such a sweet guy. Nice to look at and he has all his teeth too.”
“Right! Told you! Jeez, Ayns, I am totally offended that you are so clueless about this.”
Aynslee laughed as she said, “My mom never let the girls watch many sports; she said it was too much for our sweet minds.”
“This is the very first time I do not agree with your mama. Hockey is amazing, and the men are hot to boot. I think I need to give you a hockeymacation.”
Aynslee couldn’t stop laughing. “Hockeymacation?”
“Yes, I am going to school you in the art of hockey, and you are in luck. Phil can’t go to the game tonight. I was going to take my sister, but this is an emergency: We are going together.”
“What! Seriously?”
“Yes, you need to be educated.”
Later that night, Aynslee found herself in a hand-me-down Jordan Ryan jersey in the middle of Luther Arena. In her hands, she had the hockey-fan essentials—according to Sadie anyway.
Beer and bacon on a stick.
It was completely mind-blowing to her that she’d spent three bucks on bacon on a stick, but, Aynslee had to admit, it was pretty damn good. Sadie had the same snack, but she drank water and wore an Adler jersey with a number six painted on her face and carried a foam sword that said NASHVILLE ASSASSINS on it. Sadie looked like a complete dork, waving her sword in the air, screaming at the players as they warmed up on the ice, but, then again, Aynslee probably looked crazy just sitting there inhaling a piece of bacon. On a stick.
Once the players were back on the ice after the opening ceremony, Sadie finally sat in her seat and looked over at Aynslee.
“Ready for some hockey?!”
Aynslee threw one hand in the air. “Whoo!”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Where is Jordan?” Aynslee asked, searching the ice. He wasn’t in the goal thingy, and she didn’t see him on the bench.
“He’s right there,” Sadie said, pointing directly in front of them.
When Aynslee saw him sitting in the entranceway at the end of the bench, her heart skipped a beat. He looked so freaking good in a dark-purple jersey, all padded up, making him much larger than she remembered. He didn’t have his helmet on, only an Assassins ball cap that hid his eyes. His mouth was set in a straight line, while his eyes, presumably, were on the ice. Beautiful.
Sadie nudged Aynslee’s thigh, bringing her attention back to her. “Now, listen up. We have five-on-five hockey here, unless there is a penalty; then it would be four on five. A penalty happens when someone does something wrong, and those guys in the white and black will call it. Then the player will go into the box …”
Aynslee felt as if she were listening to the teacher on the Peanuts cartoons: Wa wa wa wa wa. She didn’t understand what Sadie was talking about, but, surprisingly enough, she was enjoying the game. She had no clue what the hell icing was or why Adler got a penalty for tapping some guy with his stick, but apparently it pisse
d Sadie off. Sadie was usually such a sweet girl, but Aynslee figured all bets were off when it came to a hockey game. Her friend was screaming louder than most of the men and using language that would make a sailor blush.
Everything was so confusing, but by the end of the second period, Aynslee not only knew what icing and hooking were, but she was quickly turning into a hockey fan. The rush of the game was unbelievable—she loved it! The Odder guy hadn’t let one goal in, but she wished she could see Jordan play. He looked as if he were sleeping, but when a puck flew into the bench, everyone hit the deck except Jordan, who caught the puck with his big glove and handed it back to the coach. He moved like a ninja, and she’d bet he was the same way on the ice. Or in bed. Sigh.
“I wish he were playing.”
Sadie shook her head. “Nah, we’re playing the Wings; we need Odder in the goal. We can’t lose, and, like I said, Ryan isn’t the goalie he used to be.”
“That’s so sad,” Aynslee said, her heart breaking for him.
Maybe that was why he’d walked away from her. Why he was so closed off. She wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them and tell him that, even though she didn’t know him well or know how he played, she thought he was awesome anyway. Aynslee shook her head; she couldn’t do this. It didn’t seem right to watch him from afar when she knew that something had been between them. There had to be a way to meet up with him again.
“Do you know where they practice?” she asked suddenly.
“Yeah. They are leaving for a road trip tomorrow; their next home game is next week, Saturday, and there is a practice that Friday morning.”
Aynslee thought for a moment.
“And next Friday’s the last day of our break.”
“Yup. Wanna go?”
“Yeah,” Aynslee said with a nod. “And I’m gonna get that man’s number.”
“It’s thirty.”
Aynslee looked over, ready to smack Sadie, but she was grinning and all Aynslee could do was laugh.
Shoving Sadie’s arm, she said, “Shut up. You know what I mean.”
“And you thought that when you Googled him, you were stalking him,” Sadie said, still grinning.
Yes, it was a little stalker-ish to show up at his practice, at the place he worked, but she had no choice. Surely when he saw her, he would know that he couldn’t walk away again. Maybe he’d thought about her as much as she’d thought about him. She wondered if he went to sleep at night wishing she were there. Or maybe he was fucking anything with tits and had completely forgotten about her. It was a possibility, but Aynslee couldn’t give up, not yet.
With a huff, Jordan ran his hand through his hair as he waited in line at Starbucks. He hated waiting in line, and if he hadn’t had a good hour and a half to spare before going to the airport to leave for South Carolina, he would have been irritated. He was not excited about this trip at all—another game where he would keep the bench warm. He wished his body ached, that he had the bruises that Tate had after last night’s win, but instead he had nothing. He may have jammed his finger when he was putting on his pads, but, other than that, nothing.
Jordan had planned on getting a coffee and relaxing in his favorite chair just to pass time and to get ready for the meeting he had late that afternoon with the IceCats. He hoped to God they liked him and wanted him; he was tired of not playing, and with each passing day he was becoming increasingly bitter. He was never like this, and he knew something was really off. He couldn’t blame it on the fact that he wasn’t playing, though, because that had been going on for months. Recently there was a new loneliness, and there was only one reason that would make him feel like that. Or one person.
Aynslee Shaw.
God, he’d fucked up. He should have tried to get her into bed, at least get laid, but he knew that it wouldn’t end like that. She was the kind of girl he could fall for and even marry. Jordan didn’t understand the instant attraction or the need he felt for her, but for the last five days all he’d done was think of her. Even when he was on the bench last night, acting as if he was watching the game, he scanned the stands for a fiery redhead, knowing he wouldn’t find her. Jordan never regretted anything, but he regretted just walking away.
But he’d had no choice.
She wasn’t someone he could leave behind, and with the uncertainty of everything in his life now, there was no way he could get into a relationship with her—even if she made his heart want to come out of his chest and beg her to love him. Nope, he had to keep that shit locked up. Things were too complicated. In a perfect world, things would be simple and he could pursue her, but his world wasn’t perfect. Not even close.
Letting out another huff, Jordan started to think the guy at the front of the line was ordering for his whole office. What was taking so long? Jordan pulled his phone out of his pocket. As he looked down, he noticed that the woman in front of him had red hair, and it made him smile. He imagined what Aynslee was doing. She was probably at school, teaching young minds. He wondered if she thought about him—why that mattered made no sense to him, but he was still curious if she did. He also wondered what it would have been like to peel that pink dress off her and bury his face between her fantastic breasts. Just thinking of her tits had him rocking back on his heels as his dick twitched to life. Man, why couldn’t life be a little steadier for him right now? If that were the case, he’d have her flat on her back in no time.
The line finally moved, and Jordan let out a thankful sigh as the redhead reached the counter.
“Can I have a tall vanilla Frappuccino?”
Whoa, he knew that voice.
“Yup, name?”
“Aynslee,” she replied.
He couldn’t believe it. His heart started to pound, and without thinking he said, “Hopefully I don’t spill this cup on you too.”
She looked over her shoulder, and confusion was replaced with a wide grin. As she turned to face him, he noticed that she must be heading to work: Dress slacks and a purple blouse gave a nice view of her cleavage. He was pretty sure that if his third-grade teacher had worn something like that, he would have started to like girls at a much younger age. “The last time that happened, I had a wonderful trip home, Mr. Ryan.” Among other things.
He chuckled before he looked up at the barista and ordered a mocha Frappuccino. Paying for both their drinks, he said, “This one is on me, just in case I spill it again.”
She smiled at him as they moved to the other end of the counter to wait for their drinks. “This is a welcome surprise,” she said, her eyes searching his.
She looked so good that he wanted nothing more than to get her tangled up in his sheets. Her hair was curled around her face, her makeup bright, matching the purple of her shirt. Her lips were glossed and her smile was unstoppable. He couldn’t believe how good he felt being around her.
Nodding his head, he said, “I was thinking the same thing.”
She looked away, her cheeks full of color as she asked, “How have you been?”
“Good,” he said with a nod as he reached for their drinks. “Are you staying here?”
“Are you?”
He nodded.
“Then I am too.”
They shared a smile as he led her to the back, by his favorite chair. He loved this Starbucks; it was only a mile from the airport the Assassins used. Sitting down across from her, he took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Are you skipping school?”
She laughed and shook her head. “No, we are on break. Today is an in-service day.”
“Cool. I always loved in-service days.”
“Me too, when I was kid. Now I hate them!”
As Jordan took a quick drink, he saw that she was watching him, a small smile playing on her lips.
“I bet,” he said, looking down at his cup. Nothing was said for a moment, and then he asked, “Did you trash the dress I ruined?”
She shook her head before pushing her red locks off her shoulders.
“I coul
dn’t do it.”
“No?”
She held his gaze. “No, it’s in my closet, and every time I look at it, I smile at the memory of how I got those brown spots.”
He averted his eyes, feeling a blush creeping onto his cheeks. She was flirting with him, and he liked it. He wanted to flirt back, to lean across the table and tell her how beautiful she was, but he refrained.
“I should probably buy you another dress.” So I could then take it off.
“It’s okay, you bought me coffee.”
He nodded, biting down on his lip as she looked at him. He loved the way she did that, held him hostage with her green eyes.
“This is true,” he agreed as she giggled.
He felt like a teenager, fumbling for things to say.
“Did your aunt send your stuff back?”
She sat up suddenly and smacked the table. “Let me tell you what that old biddy did! She said she didn’t take my things! That it was all hers! Can you believe that?”
Jordan shook his head as she went on, “My mom is going to get my stuff back from her, but, for goodness’ sake, what is my aunt thinking!”
Jordan couldn’t stop laughing. She was so animated, so pretty, as her arms flew through the air.
“My favorite gym shorts are in that suitcase, and I haven’t been able to run the same since I got home without them. She’s impossible,” Aynslee said, shaking her head too.
“You run?”
He was glad she wasn’t offended by his question. It was just that her body seemed too lush and feminine to be that of a runner.
“Yup. I have a love affair going on with food, and if I want to keep eating like I do, I have to keep running.”
His mouth pulled into a grin as he nodded. “Same thing with me. I run too, mostly to keep my knee in shape, though.”
“Your knee?” she asked looking up at him. “Shouldn’t you be worried about both knees?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but I tore the meniscus in my left knee about two years ago; I keep messing it up, I’m still recovering from it.”