by Toni Aleo
I pause. “Physically, yes. I’m sore, and it was super painful. He’s hung like an elephant—”
“No way.”
“Yeah, girl. It was way bigger than I was ready for.”
“That is awesome.”
“Sure, it hurt, but then it felt really damn good.”
“You know I love sex a lot. And I know you don’t have a frame of reference, but how do you think it was?”
“Oh, it was awesome,” I gush, my heart fluttering. “He was rough. But I mean, he didn’t hold back, he told me he dreamed of me but nothing could have prepared him for the reality.”
She sighs. “Well, hot damn, that’s sexy as fuck.”
“It was, and then he was kind. He cleaned me up and made sure I was good before worrying about himself.”
“Aw, Posey! I’m jealous. Yeah, it wasn’t the dreamy roses-and-candles first time, but it’s still sweet, even though he has no clue.”
Don’t get me wrong. When I look back on this, I will smile at how I lost my virginity. It wasn’t traditional or clumsy or anything like that, but it was special. Boon made me feel good. Safe. And I’ll never be able to thank him enough for that. I enjoyed it, and I want more. I do. Problem is, I’m in my head now.
“Yeah, but I’ve completely fucked myself up mentally.”
“How so?”
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “Well, he hasn’t called, and I know he’s on the ice and in meetings, but couldn’t he have messaged me?”
“Posey, it’s been like an hour. Relax.”
“I know,” I say with a sigh, feeling a little stupid. Needy. I’ve never been needy, so I don’t understand this feeling. “But he’d come in, all pissed about me wanting to take him off the power play, and then he accused me—”
“Wait, you want to take the dude you’re feeling off the power play?”
I blink. “Ally, I’m a coach. I have to coach.”
“You’re a hard-ass, you know that? Like, I envy you. I’d never be able to keep my feelings in check.”
I blink once more. “It isn’t easy, but now I’m thinking he did this to stay on the power play.” Saying it out loud hurts. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I feel like I’m enough? “I really felt like he was hitting on me last night, and then the DMs—”
“Wait, I’m confused.”
“What?”
“You think he slept with you to stay on the power play after he hit on you for most the night. He asked you to get out of there, but you assumed he was trying to get away, so you left—like a dumbass, mind you. And then he slid on into your DMs, saying all kinds of naughty things—honestly, he would have had me with the cookies—yet you’re questioning if he is feeling you? If he is using you?”
I press my lips together. I know what she is saying. I’ve said the same, but I can’t just believe that he wants me. “Yes.”
“Posey, I love you. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
“Okay, so don’t get your feelings hurt when I tell you you’re a fucking idiot who needs to get your head out of your ass and notice that this dude is digging you. That, yes, he hasn’t called, but he is doing hockey shit. And yes, it’s all a little weird and you don’t know where y’all stand, but instead of jumping to the worst-case scenario, enjoy the fact that you just got banged on a desk by a super-sexy dude who calls you gorgeous at every turn. Do you hear me?”
I swallow hard. “I do.”
“You are incredible, and I think he sees that, and it excites me to no end. Relax. See how this plays out, and don’t just assume the worst.”
“Okay.”
Silence stretches between us. “You’re assuming the worst?”
I let my head fall to the desk with a thud. “Yes,” I groan. I can’t help it. It’s all too wonderful. This doesn’t happen for me. A sexy dude thinking I’m gorgeous? Please. And wanting me because he wants me? Not to get ahead or get with my sister? No, it doesn’t happen.
For good reason, Ally is annoyed. “Jesus.”
When a knock comes at my door, I look up to see Jakob. “Come on, kiddo. They want us early.”
I nod and stand up. “I gotta go,” I tell Ally.
“Okay, for real. Get out of your head and see if you can talk to him later.”
“Okay,” I agree, and then I hang up, tucking my phone into my pocket. I hurry to catch up with Jakob so we can enter the meeting room together. As we walk, we go over what we want to focus on in the meeting, which is the Minnesota Wild’s penalty kill. It’s first in the league, and since we already struggle with the power play, I want to make sure to encourage the guys to be aggressive since the Wild will be. I think I want to change some things up, but I’m still on the fence.
Once we enter the meeting room, I glance around quickly to see where Boon is. I can’t help it. I need to know. I need him to look at me and reassure me. I find him in the top row between Aiden and Wes. He leans on the table, looking relaxed and carefree as he listens to Coach.
I wait. But nothing.
“Ah, good. Posey, you’re taking the lead today?”
I nod confidently. “I am, thank you.”
I go to the front and plug in my tablet as I say, “Okay, I’m sure Coach has gone over the front line and their one line of defense, but I want to cover their penalty kill.” Once my tablet is hooked up, I tap a few things, and a video comes up from the Wild’s last game where they kept the Jets from scoring nine times. “They are messy and get a lot of penalties, but it’s because they don’t care. They know they can kill them off, so they’re playing extra aggressive to get that edge on their opponent—in the hopes they won’t get caught. We have to stay smart, tight, disciplined, and just as aggressive.”
I look up, and I wish I hadn’t. Boon isn’t even looking at me or my tapes. He’s got his head down, looking at the table. He leans into Wes and says something. I try not to pay attention; I try to focus on my tablet, but I can’t. Wes laughs silently, and he’s looking right at me. Are they talking about me? Boon looks back down to the table, and my heart sinks into my gut. I force myself to turn back to the screen to keep from losing my cool. I’m unsure if that would end up with me yelling or crying, so I pause, take in a deep breath, and center myself. I know Ally said not to jump on the negative, but I can’t help it. I just needed Boon to look at me. Give me a smile. One smile to reassure me. But I didn’t get one, which has to mean one thing.
I mean nothing to him.
I never do.
Chapter Twelve
Boon
Man, it’s hard not to stare at Posey.
I know if I do, though, I’ll see her lying on her back, that slick, pristine pussy of hers mine for the taking, and I’ll jump over the four rows of my teammates and tackle her to the ground. I’d press my lips to hers so hard that I wouldn’t care if our teeth knocked. I just want to taste her. Fuck, I can still feel her around me like a vise grip. I have never in my life been in such a tight pussy. I almost blew my load on the first fucking thrust, and damn it, I want her again. I want to dive into her, suck her into my mouth, and slam into her all over again. I want to hear her soft meeps and moans. Feel her arms around me, holding me tight, and those fingertips gripping my ass.
She smelled like heaven, but why am I surprised? She looks like heaven too. I swear, if I looked up, I’d see little rays of God’s sunshine around her. Angels would sing and lift her up for me. Man, I’m feeling her. Posey’s voice is crisp and to the point, and I wish I could act like I’m unaffected by her. I wish I could sit here, stare at her, and act like I don’t want her more than I want my next breath, but I know I can’t. I honestly don’t know how she is doing it.
Such the professional.
Damn, she’s driving me wild.
When I got back to the locker room from her office, I went to get my phone out of my bag to DM her, but I realized I had left it at home. A side effect of being hungover is forgetting your phone, I guess, especially when I threw it across
my bed last night. Wes is giving me shit about driving me home after lunch, but I need my phone. I need to speak to her. I need to tell her I want to see her tonight. Every night, even. Damn it, I can’t help it. I need to look at her. I glance up, and she’s drawing on her tablet, really drilling us to watch for the second line. She’s put on some pants, hiding her incredible legs. Her sweatshirt is big and she’s drowning in it, but I know what her breasts feel like. I didn’t get to admire them, suck on them, or nuzzle my face in them, but I will. I’m going to completely and utterly devour her tonight. I swallow hard as she moves across the room, talking with her hands in such a commanding way.
Man, the things I’m going to do to that sweet body of hers.
“As we discussed,” she says, looking back to Jakob, “I want to switch the lines up a bit.”
Jakob looks to Coach, and Coach shrugs. My heart, it speeds up. What is she doing? “Sure, go ahead.”
“This PK is rough, and I feel we need more aggressive but precise play. I want more forwards on the rush, so the first line will be Brooks, Everett, Yukentco, with Reeves. But Bacioretty, I want you playing up, more toward the left of the goal.” She draws an X where she wants Willy. Brooks looks over at me, confused, since just an hour ago, I said I was good with her, but I am clearly not. “The second line will be McMillian, Johansson, Halucuthy, with Carlson and Macky on the forward defense.” When her eyes cut to mine, I hold my breath. Her gaze isn’t kind or even hot; it’s full of anger. What the hell is going on? “Hoenes, we’ll throw you in if we need you. I need more precision tonight, but that doesn’t mean we won’t use you if needed. So please be ready.”
Pretty sure from her tone, I don’t need to be ready. She has no intention of playing me at all. What in the ever-loving fuck happened in the last hour?
I will not lose my cool.
I narrow my eyes as Wes leans in and whispers, “Um, I thought you said you two hooked up?”
“We did.”
“Did you forget how to do it?
“Fuck off,” I grumble as I lean back, and when I look toward her again, Jakob is saying something in her ear.
She nods, and he smiles. Oh, so he’s on her side too? How in the fuck did I get played? “So, that’s the plan for now, but things can change on the fly. Let’s stick close to the playbook, boys. Enjoy your break.”
She unplugs her tablet as Coach stands up and starts to speak once more. She doesn’t look back as she leaves the room with Jakob close by. I want to get up and chase her, but I know I can’t. One, we have to stay in meetings, and two, I’m too angry to face her right now. When the meeting is over, I walk out of the room, heading straight for her office, despite Aiden and Wes telling me it’s a bad idea. I turn the corner and run almost directly into the boss lady.
Elli Adler.
“Boon, where’s the fire?” she jokes before she hugs me tightly. Elli Adler isn’t one of those distant owners. She loves us. Treats us like her kids and makes sure we know she appreciates our hard work. She’s the best owner I’ve ever met.
And also the mom of the woman who has me in knots.
“You all right, honey?”
“Yeah, I was on my way to talk to Coach Adler.”
She shakes her head. “She just headed out. Wanted to get a nap in. I think Jakob is still here, though. Everything okay?”
Just then, Jakob comes out of his office. “Did you say my name?” When he sees me, he brings up his palms in a slow-down motion. “Now, Hoenes—”
“What the fuck? What did I do wrong?”
Elli’s eyes widen. “What happened?”
“Coach Adler sat me.”
“She did?” Elli looks back at Jakob, utterly surprised, and he nods.
I get the feeling he wasn’t on board with this. “Yes, but once she explained her reasoning, I understood. This PK is tough. We need to be smart here, and it’s just for this game. It could be for nothing since we might not even go on the power play. It’s really not a big deal. You’ll still have your minutes on the 5-on-5.”
I feel like I could scream. “Five seconds before, she told me she was giving me until next Friday before she decided.”
“I know,” he says calmly. “But she was looking over tapes and decided differently. We’ll see how it works out. I told her she can have final say in this game. We’re only trying it out. Just be patient.”
Be. Patient.
The fuck?
“This is bullshit. I’m working my ass off.”
“We know that, Boon. We do. But the way Posey’s mind works, she sees the play before it happens. She goes through every scenario. I’m sure this was a hard choice for her. You’re a fantastic player.”
Was it a hard choice?
I fucking doubt it.
Shit, does she have it out for me? I don’t know what she has against my play, or me as a person, but how can she fuck me and then sit me? That takes some real balls. I don’t know what happened from the moment she was beneath me until that meeting, but she’s got me questioning if I was good to her. Damn it, I know I was. I could have eaten her, I could have lasted a little longer, but not only could I not handle that sweet pussy of hers, I didn’t want us to get caught. I didn’t want to hurt her career. Getting caught being banged by one of the players wouldn’t look good, but apparently she doesn’t give a shit about my career.
To be honest, I am fucking flabbergasted.
How I took a nap after all that is beyond me.
I was so riled up and so fucking pissed that when we got home, I fell face first onto my bed after plugging in my dead phone. My usual alarm is what woke me, and as I look up at the ceiling, I wonder if what happened really happened. I’m aware it did. But surely that second part didn’t. I roll out of bed, reaching for my phone. I open Instagram and go to Posey’s messages. If I had her number, I’d call, but hopefully she sent me a message. She didn’t.
Me: Hey.
Me: Can you call me?
I type my number, and I wait.
Nothing.
It doesn’t say she’s active, so I lay down my phone and take a shower. I go over what could have happened again and again, but I’ve got nothing. Absolutely nothing. The passion was there, and I felt it bone-deep. It’s killing me not knowing what she is thinking. After I’m fresh and clean and nicely trimmed, I check my phone once more, even though I never heard a notification. As I assumed, there is no message from her. I drop the phone onto my bed and get dressed in my favorite black suit. It has my mom’s name sewn into the pocket, and when I wear it, I usually have a good night. After today, I need it.
I hear Wes calling me, so I grab my phone and rush to get downstairs. “You hear from her?”
I shake my head, reaching for my keys. “Nothing.”
“Man, that’s crazy.”
“Sure the fuck is,” I grumble, and while I know I shouldn’t think of it or even care, I have a game to play. It’s all I do.
The whole way to the rink, I make myself crazy trying to come up with a reason. Once I arrive, before getting ready, I head over to the offices to see if she’s there. She’s not, though. As I head back to the locker room, I check my phone to see if there is anything from her. There isn’t, but she saw my message.
Seen.
Those four letters taunt me. So, she saw my message but didn’t write back. When am I going to accept that this girl doesn’t want me? How many times am I going to allow her to blow me off? But even as I’m thinking that, it doesn’t seem right. Something is up, and I’m going to find out what. I head to Jakob’s office, and he looks up at me from behind his desk.
“Hey.”
“Hey, do you happen to know where Posey is?” He raises his brow, and I clear my throat. “I mean Coach Adler.”
“I haven’t seen her. I really think you should let this go, Hoenes. It’s one game, and honestly, if I don’t like what I see, I’m going to put you in.”
That makes me feel a little better, but I need to speak to Posey.
“I appreciate that, Coach, but I think I would feel better if Coach Adler and I could discuss this further.”
He sits there for a moment, staring at me. I can tell he doesn’t want to do what I ask. He’s trying to protect Posey.
“I promise I won’t yell or get nasty. I just want to know what happened from when she and I spoke until the meeting.”
When he reaches for his phone, I hope he’s calling her. “Hey, sweetheart. Are you in the arena? Cool. Listen, Hoenes is looking for you. I see. Okay. So you want to set something up tomorrow sometime?”
I’m not sure how this is going to go, but like Posey has been saying from the rip, I don’t think things through. I grab Jakob’s phone and bring it to my ear, despite his shocked demeanor. “Where are you?”
I met with silence, and then in an even and assertive voice, she says, “I’m coming down the hall toward the offices.”
I hand him back his phone and say, “I’m really sorry about that.”
“Shit, I’m gonna sit your ass for that!” he yells at me, and I deserve it.
I head out of his office just as she rounds the corner. As much as I don’t want to be stunned by her beauty, I am. It’s a given, and it’s been like this since I met her. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, and her makeup is once again dark and dramatic. She’s wearing a tight black pencil skirt that goes to midcalf and a blazer with a purple shirt underneath it. Her heels are high, and even with how angry I am, I still want to see them beside my bed. She stops midstep, her eyes widening as her hand holding her phone falls to her side. She swallows hard, her eyes not leaving mine as she says, “What can I do for you?”
I come almost toe-to-toe with her. Not close enough where someone would know I want to kiss her more than I want to play on the power play, but close enough that if I need to lower my voice, she can still hear me. “What the fuck?”
She presses her glossed-up lips together as she looks up at me. “Like I said in the meeting—”
“No. Fuck that, Posey. What the hell? You said I was good until next Friday.”