Killian

by Brenda Rothert

  “What rules?” she demanded.

  “The dress code. You were recently written up for inappropriate dress at a work function. And now Henry Walsh is angry because he’s left multiple messages for me and has not received a call back.”

  “I figured if he knew you that well, he’d have your cell number.”

  I cringed inwardly over how long I’d delayed this decision. This girl was completely clueless and there was no point continuing the conversation. “This has not worked out, Nicole. You have to leave.”

  “Can I get a letter of recommendation?”

  “No.”

  She rolled her eyes and glared at me across my desk. “I know what this is about. It’s because I caught you getting felt up by Killian in here the other day.”

  “His hands were on my shoulders. That’s hardly him feeling me up.”

  “Please. I know you’re sleeping with him. He comes to your office every day.”

  “So does Sam the janitor.”

  Her face became a mask of fury and spit flew from her mouth as she spoke. “You’re a joke. You tell me the players are hands off and then you take the captain of the team as your personal sex slave.”

  “I have nothing more to say to you,” I said. “We’re done here.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and gave me a smug look. “I want six months’ severance and the best letter of recommendation ever written. Otherwise I’m telling everyone I got fired for catching you two in your office going at it.”

  My killer instinct was boiling just below the surface. “That would be a lie, Nicole. And nothing would compel me to write a letter of recommendation for you. You are, hands down, the worst employee I’ve ever had, and you are your own worst enemy.”

  “Everyone’s right about you,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “You are a bitch.”

  “Go clean out your office, hand in your keys and leave the building.”

  Killian

  Sidney’s words from last night still echoed in my head. She wanted me to take the call to Indy, pure and simple. Actually, I didn’t have much choice because my contract required it. Up until recently, I’d managed to avoid getting the call with my reckless behavior. But she’d forced the issue by making a call to her friend the hockey scout. To give her credit, she probably did it with the best of intentions, but I didn’t need her interference. I could manage my own career my own way.

  I’d been silent all morning at practice. The guys knew I was in a mood and avoided me. I figured a hard practice and weight lifting would work my anger away, but I was still every bit as pissed off as I had been first thing this morning. I had to do something about it.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I thought about the confrontation I was about to have with Sidney. It was a bad idea to do this right now, but I had to. The resentment had built to a level I couldn’t keep inside anymore.

  I opened the main office door and found Sidney leaning against Barb’s desk. They were talking, but stopped to look over at me.

  “Hi,” Sid said, smiling.

  “Hi, Killian,” Barb said.

  “Good morning, ladies. Sid, have you got a minute?”

  “Sure, come on in.”

  She opened the door to her office and I followed her in. She closed it behind us and I sat in my usual seat in front of her desk.

  “I fired Nicole this morning,” she said in a weary tone.

  I grunted a response, my sarcasm pouring out unchecked. “Maybe you can reassign me to be your assistant.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked with an edge, walking around to her side of the desk.

  “Just that you call the shots. All of ‘em. I don’t want to go to Indy. And you know why. But you forced the issue because we’re seeing each other and now I’m not gonna have a choice.”

  Her emerald eyes blazed angrily. “You’ve still got the same choice you always had, Killian. The call won’t come if you bust up another player in the next game so bad you get ejected. Or if you go get into a bar fight and get arrested again. I’ll say one more thing: for you to say I made the call because of our relationship is possibly the most insulting thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

  I stood and slammed my palms on her desk. “I don’t see you trying to make any of the other guys into six or seven figure earners,” I said bitterly. “Only the one who’s fucking you.”

  She shook her head dismissively. “I don’t need your money.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Sidney. But you also don’t want to be the girlfriend of a guy who drives a ragtop Jeep.”

  “Says who?” she challenged. “I support the professional growth of everyone around me. That’s how I lost the assistant I loved, Andrea. I promoted her because I knew she could do more. And I know you can do more. You should be playing at a level that challenges you, not one that keeps you complacent.”

  “You don’t get to decide that for me.” I turned toward the door, needing to escape my clawing feelings of inadequacy. “We’re too different, me and you. You belong with some rich guy you don’t have to sneak around with because he’s beneath you.”

  “I don’t want a rich guy,” she said hotly. “And you are not beneath me.”

  “Well, I don’t want a woman who goes behind my fucking back and tries to make me into something I’m not. All I want is to play hockey. I’m a Flyer. And obviously that’s not good enough for you.”

  “You are being totally unreasonable. I’m leaving for New York in half an hour. I’ll see you when I get back.”

  I opened the door and walked out, not looking back, grateful that Barb wasn’t at her desk so I didn’t have to fake a pleasant goodbye.

  I needed a place to gather my thoughts, so I headed for the locker room. The place was empty and I sat down on the bench in front of my locker, thinking about the exchange between me and Sidney. Part of me was glad I’d unloaded my hard feelings. But another part hated the hurt look in her eyes when I accused her of trying to make me into a more suitable boyfriend.

  I’d always had rock star status with women. I was a pro hockey player. I thought what I had here was enough. At least, I’d always thought so. Now I wasn’t sure of anything.

  The sound of approaching footsteps made me look up. Orion sat down next to me.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “I’ve been better.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  I shrugged, sliding my elbows down my thighs to rest on my knees. “Sidney doesn’t belong with a minor league hockey player,” I said.

  “Why, because you’re not loaded?”

  “I guess, yeah. I’ve got an old Jeep to my name, and that’s about it.”

  “What does she say about it?”

  “She says she doesn’t care. But you probably know she called her friend the scout. She’s either trying to make me into a success, or get rid of me. I’m not even sure which.”

  Orion sighed softly. “If she hadn’t called him, I would’ve called in a favor myself. You’ve outgrown this team, Killian.”

  My throat tightened uncomfortably. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. Even on your off days, you’re playing at the highest level of the game.”

  “I don’t care about that.” I stared at the fibers of carpet at my feet. “I’ll fuck up more if I need to.”

  “Hockey players put their body through a hell of a lot. We all do it because we love the game, but the big league’s the dream. Why are you so dead set against it?”

  “This team is all I have,” I said, fighting to keep my voice level. “These guys are my family. I lost my mom when I was twenty two and she was all I had.”

  “I’m sorry.” Orion put a hand on my shoulder. “Does that have anything to do with you getting dropped back then?”

  “It’s got everything to do with it.”

  “I felt the same way about the team I retired from,” he said. “Those guys were there for me when my dad died, and that was the lo
west point in my life. I considered them my family. I still do. But everything changed for me when I met my wife. Even before we were married, she became my family.”

  I nodded silently, still not looking up.

  “If you want to be with Sidney, you have to be your own man,” he continued. “Don’t stay here because it’s easy. Don’t stay here because she’s here.”

  “I don’t want the money without my mom to share it with.”

  “What would your mom say about that? Would she want you to put your body through this game, on this team, for the rest of the years you’ve got left? Or would she want you to take the spot you’ve earned?”

  I sighed deeply, not wanting to admit the answer.

  “Life brings unexpected turns, man,” Orion said. “My sister’s husband left her alone to raise two kids and I was able to put her through college because I’d banked money when I was playing. And it’s a good thing I did that because I had to retire early when my nephew needed a kidney. Now I’ve got a family and I don’t regret a thing I did.”

  “Yeah, I guess money’s not all bad.”

  “It’s not just about the money, Killian. I’ll miss you like hell, but it’s time to man up. Face the unknown. I truly believe the only reason we fail is by not trying.”

  I knew Orion was right. I had to face a few things right now and only I could make these decisions. Could I handle the big league? Could Sid and I weather a long distance relationship? These things weighed heavily on me, and I was glad Orion had helped me face the facts.

  Chapter 11

  Sidney

  Steam rose from the surface of the bath water and I closed my eyes to take in the moisture and the almond scent of my bath oil. A glass of wine was waiting on the side of the tub. My favorite playlist of old songs was playing on the speaker system that reached every room in the condo. All I needed was to shed my silk robe and soak away my troubles.

  While it was always fun to be in New York for a few days, I was glad to be home. My meetings had gone well and I was very pleased with the new real estate idea that Frank had presented. I managed to squeeze in a dinner with some old college friends and while I was busy the whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about Killian. We’d both been angry the last time we’d seen each other and that was a crappy way to remember someone.

  The hot water made me sigh contentedly. Finally, something relaxing. It had been a hellish few days between the travel, firing Nicole and fighting with Killian. I’d been bouncing between tears of fury and sad crying since that fight with Killian. Somehow I’d managed to pull myself together over the past three days and this afternoon, when I got back from New York, I had a video conference call with an investment group.

  I knew Killian had left for a road trip right after our fight. But I’d seen the equipment manager unloading stuff at the arena this afternoon, so I knew they’d just gotten home. Not having heard one word from him for three days hurt me more than our fight had.

  When I started college, I decided to spare myself the heartache of being an emotional woman. I made a conscious decision to be shrewd and detached about all the big stuff. That approach had served me well in both my business and personal relationships. I always stayed focused on what mattered – my work. Even when I had boyfriends, I never allowed them to get close enough to upset me.

  But Killian had shredded me. I’d told myself it was just a physical thing between us, but my aching heart said otherwise. Since our fight I’d find myself crying at the drop of a hat. What was with that, anyway? Since when had I become a woman who cried over anything, let alone a man? The answer was since Killian, and that unnerved me.

  I submerged myself in the water, letting the moisture from the oil soak in to my skin. My hair was piled on top of my head in a messy bun, the back of my neck sweaty from the heat. Though I could’ve easily stayed in the tub for another hour, I pushed down on the drain release and stood up.

  I’d relaxed my body and now it was time to relax my mind. I’d curl up in bed with a good book.

  Just as I stepped out of the tub and reached for my towel, the chime of the door bell sounded. I dried off quickly, wrapping my robe around my body. Not that I had any intention of answering the door in this. Who the hell rang someone’s doorbell at 9 PM, anyway?

  I glanced at my phone to see if Keri had called to say she was coming by. No missed calls or messages.

  Though I had no plans to open the door, I hurried through the living room, leaving wet footprints on the dark wood floor. When I looked through the peep hole, my heart pounded at the sight of Killian. He wore a black leather jacket and a tired expression.

  I wanted to walk away. I wanted to leave him to wonder where I was. He deserved to hurt at least a little. But my hand reached for the door knob. Where the hell had he been the past three days? Huntsville, yes, but he still had a phone.

  When I opened the door, a cool rush of air came in and I wrapped my arms around myself. Killian stepped in and pulled the door closed. He did a quick once over of my body and then locked his eyes onto mine.

  The steely gray was gone. The eyes that had flashed angrily at me now looked tired, empty and sad.

  It wasn’t just his eyes – Killian was rumpled all over. His clothes were wrinkled and his short hair, usually fixed in a neat style, was messy and spiky.

  I wanted to shove him and scream at him to get the hell out. But when he reached for me, I reached back. He pulled me against him tightly, his arms wrapped around my back.

  I pressed my face against his chest, taking in his leather smell. His solid strength held me upright as I melted, tears coming fast and hard. What was this? An apology or the big breakup? I didn’t know, but just his presence here had me weeping with relief.

  He pressed his face into the crook of my neck and squeezed me tighter.

  “You’re an asshole,” I said, my voice a croak.

  “I know.” There was an apology in his tone.

  I took his hand to lead him to the kitchen for a glass of wine, but he surprised me by stopping in the living room. He tugged my hand to turn me his way, putting his other hand on my lower back. It took me a second to realize I was supposed to be moving to the music that was still playing.

  “I don’t dance,” I said. “I don’t know how.”

  “Shh. I’m leading.”

  I bit back a comment about that being my job. The intensity on his face melted me into a puddle. I was in his arms and we were dancing. The fact that I didn’t know how seemed insignificant.

  Ella Fitzgerald’s voice serenaded as he led me around the wood floor of my living room. His movements were smooth and measured. Killian was a dancer. My head was spinning with surprise and relief. He was here. His warm, solid body against mine and the softness in his eyes told me this was an apology.

  The song ended and we stopped dancing, our eyes locked. When a Nat King Cole song started, I laid my head on his chest and said, “More.”

  We danced until my playlist ended. By then I felt soothed and comforted beyond anything he could have said with words.

  “Are you staying?” I asked him.

  “I want to.”

  His gaze was on my body now, which was only covered by a short silk robe. He reached for the smooth dark blue fabric on my hip and ran his hand over it. I swallowed hard, drinking in the feeling of his hungry gaze on me.

  When his fingers moved to the tie on the robe and pulled on it, the fabric parted and cool air touched my exposed skin. He slid the robe back on my shoulders and it fell into a puddle at my feet.

  The pain and worry of the past three days without him resurfaced. I had to know if he was worth it.

  “Have you been with anyone else?” I asked softly.

  He pulled back, his brows lowered in a look of surprise. “What?”

  “Have you? I need to know.”

  He ran his thumb over my jaw line, the tender touch making my lower lip quiver with worry and longing.

  “No,” he said softly. His t
humb found my lip, running across it gently. “I’d never do that to you.”

  I nodded and dove against him, crushing myself into the soft leather of his jacket. He wrapped his arms around me and brushed a hand over my hair. When I tipped my face up to look at him, his mouth was on mine in an instant. This kiss wasn’t soft or sweet. I bit his lower lip and he tugged on a handful of my hair in response. His other hand was on my ass, and he squeezed one cheek so hard I moaned into his mouth.

  His body nudged me toward the couch, and I backed up a few steps and fell against the leather surface. His gaze was hot as he pulled off his jacket and then his clothes. I parted my thighs wide, throwing one leg up on the back of the couch and setting my other foot on the floor.

  By the time he got his boxers and jeans off, Killian’s erection stood straight. He reached for his jeans and pulled his wallet from one pocket.

  “No condom,” I said, a note of pleading in my voice. “I want all of you this time, if you—”

  Cutting me off, he leaned his face down to mine. “I want it, too. But not here. In bed.”

  He slid his hands beneath my body and picked me up, carrying me into my bedroom. We laid down together, my arms still wrapped around his neck.

  He pushed himself into me, making a sound of anguished pleasure.

  “Jesus, you’re so wet.” He kissed me hard, still deep inside me. “You feel so good.”

  “So do you,” I said, my fingers winding into his hair. “I want this so bad, Killian. Fuck me hard. Don’t stop until you come inside me.”

  With a groan, he pulled back and thrust into me again. My head fell back and I lost myself in sensations: his hips grinding into mine, his teeth tugging my nipples, his deep, powerful groans and the minty smell of his hair.

  He was close – I knew by the strain in his groans and his tortured expression. His pleasure, and knowing he was about to give me something he’d never given a woman, sent me into an orgasm that racked me from head to toe. I cried out his name as he shoved himself deep inside me one last time, my name a guttural groan on his lips.