Fox (The Player Book 4)

by Nana Malone

  He ignored the devil on his shoulder. He was going to let her rest. Because he wasn’t sure how she’d feel when she woke up enough to realize the ramifications of what they’d done. He wanted to give her time. Just because Sasha had fueled every teenaged wet dream of his for years, that didn’t mean she’d be down for this happening again, and again…and again.

  Carefully he slid his arms from around her and rolled out of the bed. He quickly checked the time on her bedside clock. It was 4 a.m. He should go back to sleep, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to. He was wide awake now, and seemingly, his dick was in no mood to give him a break.

  Something made him pause. He didn’t just want to walk out on her. He wanted to stay. He wanted to pull her into his arms, and keep her there.

  What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t into sleepovers. He usually liked his space.

  While he was the fun-loving, wisecracking one of his siblings, he was also an introvert. He relished his space and time alone. He preferred it. But with Sasha, he was different. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was painful to leave her there, but still he slipped out of bed and tucked the blanket around her, covering her shoulders so that she’d stay warm, then he padded out into the living room.

  He was too keyed up to go to sleep now, and the rink didn't open for at least another hour. Today was the day they’d announce that he was on the team, and it would be too late to go back. Not that he wanted to go back, but still. Instead of lying in Sasha’s arms, where he wanted to be, he sat down to watch game film. When it came to games, he knew how to study. Whenever his life turned into chaos, he always returned to the ice. Since he couldn’t lace up his skates right now, watching game films was the next best thing.

  He focused on this instead of focusing on the woman he’d just left alone in bed. He prayed to God that he hadn’t fucked up their friendship. Because at the end of the day, he couldn’t have her.

  Sasha woke about ten minutes before her normally scheduled alarm. She waited for the panic, but it didn’t come. She was naked and alone in her bed. She sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest, fighting off the fog of sleep to remember… Fox had fallen asleep on top of her. Inside of her.

  She’d been stroking his hair, and she must have dozed off, herself.

  But sometime in the night, he’d woken up and tucked her properly into bed—they’d definitely been on top of the sheets, but his warmth had kept her from feeling chilly. And then he’d left her in bed, alone. She squelched the flare of worry. Waking up alone didn’t mean anything when it had to do with Fox.

  Sasha stretched, relishing the delicious soreness that lingered in her limbs. Muscles she hadn’t used in a while made their presence known. She felt good, though. Better than good. Well, she supposed a couple of orgasms would do that to a girl.

  But she was worried about seeing Fox again. If he’d stayed in the bed with her and they’d woken up together, that would have been one thing. But to wake up alone…that was something else. Being with him had been better than she’d ever imagined. She hadn’t expected to feel so connected to him. Like all he cared about in the world was her.

  That first time in the kitchen, that had been raw and desperate. But what happened after… That was connection. The whole time he’d been inside her, looking at her…she knew he’d been seeing her.

  What she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and rewind the clock. Have him back. Instead she sighed as she slipped from the bed and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top. When was the last time she’d had sex that good?

  Sex with Ryan had been…selfish. Mostly about him. She didn’t believe in faking it, and she’d never had to bother trying because it hadn’t concerned him. Usually when he was done, he’d roll away and fall asleep. She admitted to herself that she was partly to blame. It could take a while for her to get into things mentally and physically. It had been frustrating for Ryan. Though she hadn’t had that problem last night.

  With Ryan, there had been a few times when her patience with his fumbling attempts had run out, and she’d pushed him to use lube and get it over with. He’d quickly adopted that attitude in the bedroom, doing away with foreplay, leaving her only moderately satisfied most of the time. It had made her more than willing to put sex off in favor of what she considered more important tasks, like her classwork or assignments for the station.

  Gathering her courage to venture outside her bedroom, Sasha promised herself that things with Fox didn’t have to change because of what had happened. He had been overwhelmed and on edge with his sudden elevation to the major league team, and in desperate need of something to relieve the tension. And what was your excuse, other than wanting him? Alcohol and her own desire for physical intimacy had combined with his need to result in some slightly blurred lines. But they could go back, right? It was only sex. Only the best sex you’ve ever had.

  But who said they couldn’t step back across that line? She didn’t have time for a relationship. And since he was just starting with the team and would have a full schedule of his own, there was no reason they had to turn their night into a big thing. On the contrary. Maybe trying to force it into the kind of relationship that was more than just friendship might be the very thing that would destroy what they had. They were adults. They were friends. They could and would be mature about this. Except you know what his O face looks like. And he’s come inside of you. God, had he. Four times. Each time, he’d whispered her name on a curse before letting the waves of bliss crash in on them.

  She pushed open her bedroom door and crossed to the kitchen. The pot of coffee she’d made the night before, long forgotten. She dumped it into the sink and washed the carafe out so she could brew a fresh batch. As she was pouring the grounds into the filter, Fox emerged from the bathroom, wearing, like her, a T-shirt and pajama bottoms.

  “Morning,” he said, looking away from her as he shuffled into the kitchen to grab some cereal from on top of the fridge.

  Okay…so he was going to pretend everything was okay?

  “Morning,” she said with a blush. They’d left the remnants of their pizza on the counter the night before, in their haste to get to the bedroom. She pulled the trash bin out from under the sink, and brushed the half-finished crusts into it.

  He cleared his throat. “So, uh…last night was…fun,” Fox said before stuffing a spoonful of Corn Flakes into his mouth.

  She stood straight, and forced herself to breathe for a full five count before turning to face him.

  “I had fun, too,” Sasha said. Why was this so awkward? Because you’re not meant to see your best friend naked. Even if he did have a spectacular body. “It was…good. Great,” she blathered. Oh, real smooth, Sash.

  “Me too,” Fox admitted. “It’s, uh, worked something out of my system.”

  She frowned, unsure how to take that. “I slept well after. I didn’t even notice you leave.”

  Did he just wince? “I had to use the bathroom,” he told her. “And then when I realized what time it was and how soon I had to get up for practice and that press conference, I didn’t want to disturb you. I really wasn’t trying to avoid you or anything like that. I wasn’t even gone all that long. Like you said, I slept well, too.”

  His rambling made Sasha relax and laugh. “I know you weren’t trying to avoid me,” she reassured him. “Look, I think we both know that last night was a one-time thing. It was great, but neither of us has the time right now to try and make it into something…more. I’m super busy with my internship and classes, and now this thing with Echo. You’re going to be traveling a lot more for the team, and practicing—”

  His eyes narrowed. “Right. Traveling.”

  Sasha crossed to him and put a hand on his arm, more aware of the feel of him, the swell of his muscle, the tension from holding his bowl of cereal, than she would have been before. “You’re going to be great and…busy,” she added. “Last night was terrific, like I said, but one time.” She breathed deep. “We’re okay.”


  She kissed his cheek and rested her forehead against his cheekbone for a moment. She had to work to ignore the flash of heat in her belly as she recalled the way he’d rested his head against hers as he’d slid into her last night. The pressure of his lips pressing a kiss to her temple distracted her from her thoughts.

  “Thanks, Sash.”

  She smiled at him then, watching him scrunch up his nose.

  “By the way,” he continued in a whisper, “you might want to hop in the shower when you’re done with your coffee. After all, you spent the night having hot, sweaty sex,” his voice was hoarse as he teased her.

  She pulled back, knowing her face was red, and gave him a playful jab on the arm. “Shut up,” was all she could think to respond with. He laughed and went back to eating his cereal. “And what about you? You have to head to the rink soon. Were you planning on showering before you go?”

  He answered with his mouth full. “Why? Are you inviting me to join you?” He waggled his eyebrows, but his eyes focused intently on her. Sasha closed her eyes, and pressed her lips together to fight the urge to laugh. “Come on. I know you think that was funny. I’m hilarious, and I know your tells.” A chuckle slipped out of her. “See? And, no, I wasn’t planning on showering before I leave. I’m just going to get sweaty and gross at practice this morning, and will have to shower before the press conference anyway.” He looked up and registered her glare but waved it off, nearly dumping his next spoonful of Corn Flakes onto the floor.

  “All right. Well, I’m going to go shower now. You better leave me some of the coffee,” she warned him before walking out of the kitchen, still fighting the urge to smile. He raised his empty spoon in a salute as he chewed.

  Safely in the bathroom, Sasha locked the door and leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Her skin heated and her nerves jittered. And she was a little light-headed.

  Yes, there was some awkwardness. But they were still Fox and Sasha. They would be okay.

  With a sigh, she pushed away from the door and crossed to the shower, turning the water on. Now was not the time to be disappointed that he hadn’t joined her. No, she’d meant what she said about being adults. They couldn’t let what happened distract either of them. Except, she still wanted him.

  It was a relief to Fox when he arrived at the team’s press conference, and discovered that most of the attention was focused on Henri and the exiting goalie. He mostly just sat off to the side, presumably out of frame for most of the broadcasts. There were only three questions that came his way, and they were mostly about his family.

  “How do your parents feel about your big break?” one reporter asked. “It must have been intimidating, when you told them that, of all things, you wanted to play hockey.” There was a murmur of laughter from the crowd, and even Fox smiled.

  “Bryce helped me out with breaking the news on that one,” he joked. “He’d already had to go through it when he told them he wanted to play tennis, so… I think they were surprised. But they’ve always been pretty great about making sure we all had the opportunities to explore our interests and talents, whatever they have been.”

  Another reporter jumped in. “As the first Coulter to branch out into hockey, do you feel like there’s as much pressure on you to perform to your family’s high standards, or is it easier not having a specific relative to compare yourself to in that regard?”

  “I don’t know that I have anything I can compare it to, to be honest,” Fox said with a shrug. “Dax and Echo have both gone down that road where my grandfather’s concerned, but I’m not either of them, so I can’t say I know what it was like for them with any certainty. I only know what it’s been like for me.”

  “And how would you describe that?” the reporter hastily followed up.

  “It’s been… I’m definitely hard on myself. But we all have a tendency to be hard on ourselves, and maybe that’s what pushes us to do the best we can. All I know is I’ve always loved hockey, and I’m really excited for the opportunity I’m being given,” he finished, getting himself back on track and looking to Coach Tremblay. Coach didn’t look too irritated and took back his command of the press in the room.

  After it was over, Fox tried to apologize to Coach about his little tangent, but Tremblay cut him off and assured him he’d done fine, and that he’d see him suited up on the bench for the game in a few hours.

  Fox found some time between the end of the press conference and the time he would need to suit up for the game to call his parents and check in.

  “I know that I got a little off-track there,” he started off. He’d never been as savvy as Echo or Bryce when it came to handling the media. Nor had he been the focus of its spotlight before, either. Dax had been, and probably still was. The most prominent of the siblings when it came to the media and instantaneous recognition, but since he and Asha had become a couple, he’d become a master of handling reporters and the press. Even Gage seemed to be more natural, when it came to answering questions about himself.

  “You did fine,” his father said, interrupting Fox’s rambling. “You expressed yourself. And you’re probably right about us Coulters in general. We do have a tendency to be hard on ourselves,” he admitted with a little laugh.

  “I’ll work on it before my next press conference, which hopefully won’t be for a while,” Fox added. “I’m sitting on the bench tonight, and that’s where it sounds like I’ll be most nights, so it probably will be a while.”

  “For the team, maybe,” his father said somberly.

  “As opposed to…?”

  “Your mother and I have been talking with my doctors, and…I’m going to have to step down from the company. At least, take on a less-demanding role for a while,” he said. “I have to figure things out with the lawyers, and there’ll be more than a few meetings to decide who’ll take over for me as president…but we’re going to have to make a public announcement sometime soon.”

  Fox swallowed before asking, “How soon?”

  “A couple of weeks. Not long.”

  “Dad, I know everything is crazy, and you need time off to get healthy. Do you want me to maybe, try and fill in for a bit? I’m not Bryce, or Echo—hell, or even Dax—but I could study up quick.”

  His father exhaled softly, and Fox could hear the slight smile in his voice. Instead of saying “Yes, I could use the help,” his father said, “Thank you, Fox. But I'm not going to ask you to do that. You have to focus on hockey. That’s always been the most important thing to you. Your mother is actually going to step in to my slot for a while. She’s going to hand off the charity work to your grandmother, and fill in for me. She’s extremely adept.”

  As his father spoke, Fox couldn’t explain why the hole in his chest only seemed to widen. Yes, it was true, he had absolutely zero interest in working at Legacy Sports. It wasn’t his dream. He wasn’t even sure that he was smart enough to do it. But like his siblings before him, he at least wanted to be asked. He wanted his parents to believe in him. Right now, it looked as if they didn’t. To his family, he was just Fox. Affable, but not one that they would trust with the legacy of the family. The legacy of the Coulter name. It stung almost as badly as knowing he was only called up to the Brawlers as a second choice.

  Although it hurt, there was no way he was going to show his father that. The old man had enough to worry about without tending to Fox’s ego, too. This wasn't about ego. All Fox wanted was to be considered capable of stepping up when it was needed. Right now, he was almost worse than the black sheep—he was poor old Fox.

  He forced a smile, though. “Okay. Well, I know you have Bryce and Echo to call on, but if you did need me, I could do it.”

  There was a long pause. “Son, we know you could.”

  Fox wasn’t certain, but that sounded like a note of dishonesty in his father’s voice. He cleared his throat. “Well, uh…give me a heads-up when you know for sure, okay?” he requested.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll b
e calling all of you kids before it goes public.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Love you.”

  “Love you too, son. And congratulations. You’ll do great. One of your first home games, your mother and I will be there. Promise.”

  Ten

  Two whole weeks went by without a fuckup from Fox. Not that he wasn’t trying for one. He was on the bench, so he couldn’t screw up. And as for Sasha, he’d managed to keep his hands off her. At least in reality. And that shit wasn’t easy. Especially with her running around looking hot and sexy. And fuckable. Every time she laughed, he was desperate to touch her. But every night in his dreams, man oh man, did he touch her. He touched her in all kinds of ways. Ways she’d hinted about with the brunette.

  When his father finally made his announcement, Fox felt weird about not telling Sasha. He told her everything. Or, he used to…before they’d screwed like mad in her kitchen. It was only about two weeks later that his father announced his illness to the world. They’d kept their discussions focused on work, her big semester project, and how he was adjusting to the new team. Never to that night, and not once about his father.

  When he asked about her story, though, she would vaguely say that it was coming together and she was pleased, and then she’d turn the conversation to Fox and how things were going with the team. “Is it weird with your friends, still?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “A little. They were extra-hard on me during a scrimmage this week. But I was able to keep their shots from going in.”

  She nodded, even as she frowned. “I’m sorry shit is so weird because of me.”

  “Hey,” he said, putting a hand on her knee then immediately withdrawing it. “You didn’t fuck up. Besides, things got a little better after that,” he had added with a shrug.