by Meghan Quinn
The Brawlers, Calder’s team, is up by three goals thanks to Calder’s superior defense and their goalie’s uncanny ability to do the splits every other shot made at him. I kind of want to yell, “We get it, you’re flexible!”
“I’m glad you’re having a good time, dad.”
“And your boy, look at him go.” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to be caught in an alley with him. He looks really big in person, is he? I’ve only seen him on television, but even from this vantage point, he looks like a destroyer.”
If only my dad knew the kind of sensitive and caring man Calder really is.
But in real life, not on TV, Calder is huge. Larger than life, almost, with his broad shoulders, tapered waist, and long, thick legs only someone who’s grown up skating back and forth on ice would develop.
“He’s very large.”
My dad slaps his hands together. “I knew it.”
I hold back the roll of my eyes.
“And he’s nice? He was nice to you last night? Treated you like a gentleman would?”
“Yes, dad.” I smile to myself, loving how he’s still protective. Balding and older than ever, my dad, despite his age, still has a little spark inside of him, and there is no doubt in my mind that if given the opportunity, my dad would kick butt for me if he had to. “Calder is super sweet and thoughtful.”
“Not an asshole? You know all I hear about athletes is their penchant for having gaggles of women surrounding them. Is he a cheater?”
“No.” I scrunch my brow together. Honestly, I don’t know the true answer to that, but from what I gathered last night and through our texts, Calder is not the type of man who would cheat.
“Ohhhhhhh,” the crowd erupts as Calder slams into another opponent, this time, with his right shoulder leading the way. They both fall to the ice, the puck sputtering away.
I keep my eyes trained on Calder and watch as he slowly gets up from the ice. He rotates his shoulder in small circles before his coach changes the line.
Concerned, I watch Calder speak with a trainer and try to stretch out his shoulder while spraying water all over his face, trying to cool down from the fifteen pounds of gear he has to wear. I think it weighs something like that, at least that’s what Wikipedia told me, and you and I both know how reliable that is.
“Looks like Calder is hurt,” my dad points out, standing on his toes, trying to get a better look.
“That was a pretty hard hit.” I bite the side of my lip. Is he going to be okay? I sure as hell hope so, because I have plans for him. Wicked-hot plans that require him to be fully functioning.
Chapter Seven
CALDER
A hiss escapes my mouth as I attempt to put on my button-up shirt. I’m fucking sore, sore as hell. And even though I sat in ice for twenty minutes, hating that I had to make Rachel and her dad wait, I’m still sore.
I sent a text to Rachel, letting her know I was getting some extra treatment after the game and that I’d sent someone to bring them to the friends and family suite until I was done. She texted back with a heart emoji. It was simple, yet made me feel so damn special.
We ended up winning the game by four goals. Hayden was on fire tonight, it was a memorable game for him, especially because he scored a hat trick. The first hat trick of his rookie season. There will be lots of celebrating tonight, that’s for sure.
“You’re going to O’Houlihans, right?” Hayden asks, tying his tie around his neck.
“Yup. I’m going to go pick up Rachel and her dad and meet you there. Grab us a booth in the back?”
“Not a problem. I’m going to say a quick hello to my family and then head on over. Want me to order you a beer?”
“Nah.” I button up my shirt. “I’ll wait to see what Rachel and her dad want.”
“Sounds good.” Hayden grips my good shoulder. “Everything okay, old man? That shoulder going to hold out?”
“Yeah, just a little sore, it should be okay with some more ice and ibuprofen.”
“Okay, see you at the pub.” Hayden takes off.
I take a few extra minutes, struggling with my shoulder, taking deep breaths with each movement. A few more ibuprofens, some Icy Hot, and rest, and I’ll be better in no time.
Hurrying along, I grab my belongings and head out to the family suite, my nerves taking hold of me. My brother is being brother of the year right now and watching Shea for me, once again. When I asked him for the second night in a row, he wanted an explanation, so I had to tell him all about Rachel. His reaction was exactly what I expected: elation. He was so damn excited to hear that I was going out with someone that he even offered to keep Shea overnight. Now that’s a good brother.
As I make my way through the hallways, employees and media congratulate me on the win. It was a team effort, that’s for sure.
When I reach the family suite, I immediately spot Rachel—it’s hard not to, with her bright blonde hair and gorgeously blue eyes. She’s standing next to an older, bald gentleman with an impressive beer belly given how small his frame is. I’m going to assume he’s her father, even though they look nothing alike. Straightening up, I push forward, butterflies lighting up inside me. It’s been twenty-four hours since I’ve seen her, and it almost seems longer. Talk about infatuation at first sight.
When she spots me approaching, her face immediately lights up and for a brief moment, it almost looks like she’s about to propel herself forward and throw herself into my arms, but she stops herself and instead clenches her hands at her side and bounces in place. It’s a subtle bounce, but noticeable enough to make me grin like a damn fool.
Do I kiss her as a greeting? Do I just wave? Do I give her a hug? I have no idea, I don’t want to be awkward in front of her dad. We’ve only been on one date, what’s the protocol for that?
“Great game,” Rachel says, reaching out to me and pulling me into a hug. My shoulder strains under her hug and I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from making any noise.
“Thank you.” I give her an awkward pat and turn to her dad. “You must be Rachel’s father.”
“Staff Sergeant James Perry.” He grips my hand tightly, showing me that even though he’s sporting a cue ball of a head and a portly belly, he’s still got a little bit of gusto in his grip.
“Mr. Perry, it’s wonderful to meet you. I hope you enjoyed the game.”
“Splendid game. You gave those boys some really good shots.”
I grip my bad shoulder. “Yeah, did a little too much bruising, if you know what I mean.”
“Can’t run into a wall and think it’s not going to hurt.”
“Well said.” I chuckle. “Have you been a Brawlers fan for a while?”
“Ever since I can remember.” Mr. Perry looks around. “This has been a surreal night for me, so thank you.” Facing me again, he becomes stern. “But don’t think you’re going to win me over with your fancy hockey team. You still have to treat my daughter well to gain my approval and respect.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way, sir.”
Mr. Perry nods his head in approval and then takes a look at his watch. “It’s late, I best be heading home.”
“Oh, I was going to take you and Rachel out for some drinks.”
“I’ll take a rain check if you don’t mind. You two go have fun. But can I ask you to drive my daughter home safely?”
I glance in Rachel’s direction and then level with her father. “You have my word, sir.”
“Good man.” Reaching out, he shakes my hand again then pats me on the shoulder, causing me to wince. “Have fun, kids.”
Without a parting glance, he takes off, making his way through the crowd and almost running into a wall when he spots one of our forwards speaking with his family.
Pulling on my hand, Rachel grabs my attention. “Are you okay? You winced when my dad touched your shoulder.”
“Just a little banged up, nothing you need to worry about.” I take a look behind me to make
sure her dad is gone before I grip Rachel at the waist and pull her in close. She wraps her arms around my neck and stands on her toes to press a kiss against my lips.
“Hey, there.”
“Hey.” That smile she garners from me reappears, spreading across my face.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Always,” I answer, loving the way she fits so easily in my arms.
“Tonight, watching you out on the ice, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so sexy. That was until you showed up in this suit.”
“Yeah?” My eyebrow rises. “You like the suit?”
“It’s super hot. Tailored so well to your body that I can still see your muscles, but it also has me begging for you to reveal just a tiny bit of skin.”
“If you’re lucky, maybe I will.” I wink and link my hand with hers, leading her out of the building and straight to my car. It’s time to get some drinks.
“Hayden, this is Rachel. Rachel, this is Hayden Holmes, our all-star rookie and a good friend of mine.”
“Aw,” Rachel coos. “Whenever I’ve been introduced to a guy’s friends, there’s always some ribbing involved, but you were very complimentary.”
I shrug. Should I have thrown some kind of friendly barb in there? Maybe, but nothing really came to mind.
“He loves me too much—he’s kind of infatuated with me, actually,” Hayden says, shaking Rachel’s hand and offering a seat in the booth across from him.
“See, that’s what I was expecting.” She takes a seat and I slide in next to her. Gripping my thigh, she says, “This guy though, he’s just a giant sweetheart, isn’t he?”
“A real teddy bear, that guy. Did he ever tell you about the first away trip we had? What he did for me?”
Where is Hayden going with this?
“No he didn’t, what happened?”
Nothing, as I can recall, but I can’t wait to hear what Hayden has to say.
Taking a sip of his beer, he swallows and says, “It’s a scary thing, being a rookie on a professional hockey team. There is some light hazing, stupid shit like having to wear lady pajamas at night, real idiot things like that.”
“Lady PJs? Did you wear some?” Rachel asks me.
“Lavender silk ones, one of the best nights of sleep I’ve ever had.”
“I wore flannel, kind of wish I went with the silk,” Hayden adds, causing Rachel to laugh. A waitress brings the drinks we’d ordered at the bar, handing both me and Rachel a Guinness. I’m kind of impressed with her drink choice.
She takes a sip, a bit of the foam sticking to her upper lip before she swipes it away with her tongue. “So, what happened your first night.”
“Yeah, what happened?” I egg Hayden on and he leans back in his booth, a giant smile on his face.
Oh he’s getting ready to tell one epic story, I can feel it.
“It was after the game, the guys decided to go out and celebrate our first on-the-road victory. Being a rookie and wanting to fit in, I relished in the ability to celebrate with my boys, especially since I’d scored one of the goals to help us win.”
“Naturally,” Rachel adds.
“Now when you think of hockey players celebrating, what do you think of?”
Oh shit, I know where he’s going with this. “Eh, we don’t have to tell this story.”
Rachel turns to me, her eyes burning me with their gaze. “Oh, I’m pretty sure he does have to tell this story. Hayden, please proceed.”
“Like I was saying,” Hayden smiles at me over his beer. Shit, I lean back in the booth and put my arm around Rachel, and she snuggles into it. “What kind of celebration would you expect from a hockey team after a win?”
Rachel gestures around the pub. “Not to be stereotypical, but I would expect this, beers in some pub. Maybe a nacho platter split amongst two ravenous guys.”
“Exactly, but not this night, instead we went to a place I least expected . . . FroYo.”
“Huh?” she asks, a pinch in her brow.
“We went out and got frozen yogurt.”
“Like . . . what teenage girls take pictures of on their Snapchat? What women burn calories for? Frozen yogurt?
“Yup,” Hayden nods slowly, the opening of his beer resting on his lower lip. “Frozen yogurt, and the kind where you pay by the weight of your cup.”
“The kind where you get to pick from a million toppings?” Rachel leans forward, really getting into the story.
“That exact kind of place.”
“Well, that sounds delightful, what could be so wrong with that?”
Hayden shakes his head. “All the things, Rach, all the things.” He takes another sip of his beer and sets it on the table. “Let me ask you this, have you ever wondered what it would taste like if you not only picked up the biggest cup, but filled it with every ice cream . . . and every topping?”
“Nooooo,” she drags out.”
Hayden presses his lips together and nods. “Yup. As a rookie, I didn’t get to make my own FroYo cup, it was made for me and I had to sit there and eat it all. So you can understand how much we’re talking about here, my cup alone cost over twenty dollars.”
“Oh my god,” she chuckles. “You had to eat that entire thing?”
“Yup and it was fucking nasty. You know how as a kid, you would fill up your soda cup with every flavor at the fountain machine and it would form this magical concoction that was so damn good, you went back for seconds and thirds?”
“Of course, I always topped mine off with orange soda.”
“Smart girl,” Hayden points at her. “Well this was the complete opposite. All the flavors combined was not only a diabetic coma, but it was fucking nasty, especially when the ice cream turned into soup.” He shivers. “So fucking gross.”
“So you ate it all, then what happened?”
“That’s where your little friend comes into play.” Hayden nods at me. “He was the one to help me back to my room, he was the one to get me water when I was puking in the hotel toilet, and he was the one who . . .” Hayden eyes me, his smile so damn cocky. He’s waiting for me to stop him, but I don’t, instead I let him expose me. “And he was the one who laid next to me in my bed, whispering into my ear that everything was going to be okay, and when I asked him to rub my belly, he did, for an hour. He just laid there, rubbing my sicky belly, which was what he called it.”
“That’s what my daughter calls it,” I defend myself as Rachel laughs next to me.
“You rubbed his belly?” Rachel asks incredulously.
“He asked me to. What was I supposed to do? Let the man suffer? That’s not fair. He’s one of our top-scoring men. I wanted to make sure he was taken care of. I wasn’t just going to leave him there with a sicky belly.”
“Oh my god, this is too ridiculous.”
“But sweet, right?” I ask, cringing.
Rachel presses her head against my good shoulder. “Really sweet.”
“See, he’s a softy at heart,” Hayden says. “He spent the entire night with me. We watched old reruns of Seinfeld while he made sure I didn’t throw up again. He also made me drink a lot of water to flush all the sugar out of my body.” Hayden reaches over and grabs my hand. “We really bonded that night. He became my work husband.”
Okay . . . too far.
I shake him off my hand. “Okay, settle down, dude.”
“It’s true. After he met you, Rachel, he called me, told me all about his encounter with you by the bathroom. We talked for hours about it while lying on our beds. Just gabbing away. He loves to gab.”
“Yeah? Anything else he likes?”
“You know, I’m sitting right next to you, you can always just ask me,” I say, tugging on Rachel’s shoulder.
“No, I like Hayden’s exaggerated, borderline-lie version better. It’s more fun that way.”
“She likes me, Weiss, you better watch out.”
“I’m not worried.” I sip on my beer, entirely too confident in the connection I ha
ve with Rachel. Plus, Hayden would never step in. If anything, it’s all in good fun.
“He might be a teddy bear, but he’s also a cocky bastard.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” Rachel pats my thigh with her hand. “And I’m liking it.”
We spend the next hour telling stories about each other, doing that male ribbing Rachel was looking for, laughing our asses off, and sharing a plate of nachos—it was Rachel’s idea.
For the first time in my life, I actually feel like the woman I like is a contender for my heart. She’s smart, sweet, fucking sassy, and has no problem hanging out with my friends. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. She’s so easygoing, so energetic, but not a pushover, not even close. She’s someone I would consider taking home to Shea, someone I could see having a part in Shea’s life, and if that’s not equal parts terrifying and exhilarating at the same time, I don’t know what is.
I barely know Rachel, but what I do know so far is that she makes me laugh, she keeps a smile on my face, and she has a way about her that makes me feel so fucking alive, it’s addicting.
Chapter Eight
CALDER
“Hayden is so much fun.”
“He’s a good guy,” I answer, pulling into Rachel’s apartment complex.
“Is he seeing anyone?”
“Why the interest?” I ask, with a teasing tone.
“I need to keep my options open in case this doesn’t work out between us. Now that I’ve been to my first hockey game, I think I might be addicted. I need to keep someone in my life who can continue to feed my addiction with free tickets. Hayden is hot, funny, and an amazing athlete. Total package, he’s a good backup.”
I put the car in park and turn toward her, my forearm resting on the steering wheel. “Sorry there babe, but if this doesn’t work out, there will be no dating my teammates. It’s bro code.”
“No dating your teammates?” I shake my head, no. “Well that seems ridiculous. What if one of them is my soulmate? Are you really going to deny me of being with my soulmate?”