For now, she couldn’t figure out what to focus on. They moved so fast and every time she spotted number twenty-two, he was gone before she realized it. Not that she was looking for him. Not that she was waiting for him to notice her. Why couldn’t they have seats in the nose bleeds? Why did their seats have to be three rows from the glass, next to the penalty box, where she could stare across the ice at the player’s benches and hope Ethan never spotted her?
She hadn’t seen him since bumping into him, literally, at her office last week. The heat of his touch still burned in her skin. Her shiver had nothing to do with the crisp air in the arena. God, she wanted him to touch her again. Shit. She shouldn’t have these thoughts. She couldn’t have anything with him. Aside from being her boss’s nephew, he was also an elite athlete. Always in the spotlight, for both good and bad reasons—mostly bad—and she had no desire to draw attention to herself. She had seen the pictures.
“Did you see that pass to Ethan?” Lexi asked. Penny cringed at the emphasis on his name. At least Lexi had stopped calling him Italian Ethan.
“How can you focus on anything? I don’t know where to look,” Penny said, ignoring the pointed question.
“You look at the puck. You know, that black disc flying across the ice. That’s where all the action is,” Lexi said, laughter clear in her voice.
Penny rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. But there’s so much going on, that when I try to find the puck, it’s already gone.”
Lexi chuckled. “It gets easier the more games you go to. You should ask Ethan for season tickets. I bet he’d give them to you. And did I see him at the office again this week?”
Penny kept her focus on the ice, kept her expression neutral. Why did it sting that he’d been to the office and hadn’t stopped in to see her? Not that he had a reason to stop by her office. He had probably just swung by to have lunch with Robert. She didn’t want him to seek her out. She shouldn’t want him to seek her out. He should want nothing to do with her after how she left him in Italy. Not one of her most shining moments.
“He was? Probably just having lunch with Robert,” she said, her gaze trailing after Ethan as he skated up the ice, the puck on his stick. Her heart was in her throat as he moved around the other players, his speed and agility impressive, moving the puck in and out of the legs of the other team, in complete control.
Fuck. That was hot as hell. His control and determination reminded her of the control she’d gladly given him in bed in Italy. His precise focus as he shot the puck at the net and scored a goal turned her on more than it should, and she feared she would bring the temperature of the arena down a few degrees with the heat boiling inside of her.
She shot out of her seat and clapped, the sirens and music at decibel piercing levels, popcorn and beer spilling from containers as everyone jumped up and cheered along with her.
Lexi leaned in and whispered, “The hug is my favorite part.”
“What?”
“The hug. They slam into each other with such excitement. If I didn’t have Grant, I’d totally be on board with being in the middle of that. I wouldn’t even care about the sweat.”
“I heard that,” Grant muttered beside her.
Penny grinned, watching her friend turn to give her boyfriend a blinding smile.
“You know I love hugs. Especially when you’re giving them,” Lexi said, snaking an arm around Grant’s waist.
He brushed a kiss to the top of her head. “You definitely don’t want to be in the middle of that sweaty mess down there.”
“Of course not,” Lexi said. She turned back to Penny and whispered, “So hot.”
Penny bit back her chuckle and focused on the ice. Ethan was wrapped in a hug with his other teammates. Back slaps all around and she caught his grin. Dammit. She was in more trouble than she wanted to admit. God, why was he traded to San Francisco? She was never supposed to see him again. That had been the only reason she’d snuck out of that hotel room with just a note. Fate was laughing her ass off at this one.
Penny sunk back in her seat as the players skated back to center ice. Ethan wasn’t on the ice at the moment, and she craned her neck, spotting him on the bench, talking to the guy next to him, a smile still stretched across his face.
***
Penny settled back in her seat, pretzel in hand, for the start of the third period. The Strikers were down three to two. Grant grumbled about too many bad penalties and that they needed their stuff in gear—he’d started to say shit, but Lexi’s glare had him stumbling over his words since Lexi’s daughter, Abby, currently seated beside him, liked to hang on his every one.
Penny took a bite of her pretzel, just as the boards rattled in front of her, and she found herself staring into Ethan’s intense gaze. Her mouth opened, the bite of pretzel tumbling out of her mouth and into her lap.
She held back her squeak and wrapped the slightly chewed pretzel piece into her napkin. Well, that was attractive. Her cheeks heated as the shock in his eyes quickly faded. He grinned back at her, and then shoved another player to the side, his stick jabbing at the ice.
He ducked his head down, pushing the other guy one last time, and then he was off, skating toward the opposing team’s goalie. Holy hell, he was fast.
“Wow. He knows you’re here now,” Lexi said, laughing.
Penny glared at her friend, and took another bite of her pretzel. This time, she successfully swallowed the carby goodness before responding. “You are not funny.”
“And the heat in that stare.” Lexi pulled back, fanning her face. “I’m surprised the ice didn’t melt. Those eyes. Whoa.”
“I’m starting to get jealous over here,” Grant said.
“Oh stop. I was referring to how he looked at Penny.”
“Right,” Grant drew out.
“You know I love you and your eyes the most. They are super yummy. Like chocolate,” Lexi said, patting Grant’s arm as he muttered something about Lexi only loving him for cake.
“You better not forget that, or I’ll tell my mom to stop dropping off tiramisu,” he said, grinning at them.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Lexi gasped. “Now, can we focus on Penny?”
“How about we not? I want to hear more about Grant’s chocolate eyes,” Penny said, biting back her chuckle. “I just picture Lexi trying to eat your face.”
Grant’s eyes darkened, and Lexi choked on a laugh. Penny knew her cheeks were a brilliant red. Well, that was awkward.
“Umm. So, anyway. I hope they get another goal,” Penny said, focusing back on the ice just as a whistle blew.
“Dammit, your boy just took a penalty. Minnesota better not score on this power play,” Grant yelled.
“He’s not my boy,” Penny whisper-yelled. “And what did he do?” she asked, watching Ethan argue with the ref as he skated toward the penalty box. The one she was a few seats away from.
“Two minutes for slashing,” a voice carried over the loud speaker, and it was met with angry shouts and pointing fingers from members of the crowd who apparently disagreed with the call. She had no idea what a slash was, so she settled back in her seat and focused on her half-eaten pretzel.
She gazed at him under hooded eyes as he skated into the penalty box and sat down, anger clear on his face. She looked up at the jumbotron suspended above the ice and focused on Ethan. He propped his stick against the door and lifted his jersey to wipe his face, his gorgeous abs glistening for all the world to see—and looking massive on the large screen, a full six pack that she vividly remembered tracing with her tongue. She squirmed in her seat.
“Wow,” Lexi whispered. “That’s impressive.”
“I’m still sitting here,” Grant grumbled. Penny tried not to laugh, fearing what sound would come out since her heart was racing in her throat, and she was having difficulty breathing.
“It’s impressive that he doesn’t wear Under Armour under his pads. Wouldn’t that chafe?” Lexi asked, but Grant wasn’t buying it, if his snor
t was anything to go by.
Penny tore her gaze away from the large screen now that he’d covered his impressiveness back up and took another bite of her pretzel.
“I think he’s trying to get your attention,” Lexi said, nudging her again.
“I’m sure he’s not,” Penny said, refusing to look in Ethan’s direction.
“He’s tapping the glass. Just look at him already.”
Penny turned toward the penalty box, cursing their seats again. Cursing herself for agreeing to come to the game when she knew that she should avoid him for more reasons than just the fact that he was her boss’s nephew. Or how he’d wormed his way into her heart and her head in Italy.
When she finally looked at him, he grinned and mouthed, “Hi.” His helmet was off, and he raked a hand through his sweat drenched hair. Her fingers already itched to touch him again.
“Hi,” she mouthed back, knowing that he wouldn’t hear her over the loud sounds and music echoing through the arena. Who knew hockey games were so musical? How did the players even think with the loud rock music blasting?
Conversation wasn’t possible, so they stared at each other for another thirty seconds before he put his helmet back on, took another swig from the communal water bottle—she tried not to skeeve out about that—and with one last tap of his stick on the side of the penalty box in her direction, he was back on the ice, snagging the puck and heading toward the net, while she was still trying to catch her breath.
“Oh my God,” Lexi exclaimed as Ethan shot the puck to the back of the net, and tied the game.
“Two goals so far tonight. You might be Harty’s good luck charm,” Grant shouted, as the arena shook with excitement. “Maybe he’ll get a hattie. I don’t think he’s had one since early last season.”
“A hattie?” Penny asked, her gaze locked on Ethan as he hugged his teammates again. Lexi was right. Hockey hugs were hot.
“A hat trick. If he scores three goals tonight, people throw their hats on the ice,” Lexi said.
“Wow. You really are becoming a fan, huh?” Penny asked.
“We’ve watched so many of Grant’s games that I couldn’t help but learn,” Lexi said.
“It’s a rec league, babe. Not the same as the pros,” Grant said.
Lexi snuggled into Grant’s arm, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Still as fun to watch.”
“I still don’t understand the hats. What’s the point? And what if you’re really attached to your hat?” Penny asked.
“It’s the price you pay, wearing it to a game,” Grant said.
“You should try to talk to him after the game,” Lexi said.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because there’s obviously something going on between the two of you that you didn’t finish six months ago.”
“We had our fun, and it’s over. I don’t have enough fingers to count the number of ways that it would be bad to try to pick up where we left off,” Penny said, hearing the sadness in her own voice. She hated that she wanted what she shouldn’t, no matter how many times she told herself she didn’t want anything with him.
“I’m sure you made multiple lists, but I think you should go for it. You never know what could happen,” Lexi said with a smile, before she turned back to look at Grant.
“Yeah, disaster could actually strike,” Penny muttered, her gaze back on Ethan. Shit. What was she doing? And why couldn’t she stop herself? There were too many variables between them, his uncle, her ex. The ways that it could go horribly wrong were infinite.
“Lunch again?” Robert asked when Ethan popped into his office early Wednesday afternoon.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t want to have lunch with your favorite nephew. I can head home,” Ethan said, shucking his coat and laying it across the chair next to him.
“You know I’m always happy to see you. And that game last night, man, you were on fire. A hattie. I threw a hat at my TV,” Robert said, walking around his desk to give Ethan a hug.
“Yeah. Think I’m finally getting my feet under me here. Took longer than I wanted, but hopefully I can pick up my points now. Don’t want the Strikers to regret the trade,” Ethan said, pulling back from his uncle to take a seat as Robert moved to settle back in his.
“How could they? You are working with a new team, new linemates. That cohesion isn’t instant. They know your point history, your track record for thirty plus goal seasons.”
“Well, I better pick up the pace if I want that this season.” Ethan couldn’t describe his happiness at his uncle’s support. He needed some form of family support more than he wanted to admit. He shouldn’t want it—shouldn’t need it—but he did.
“You’ll hit it. I have a feeling this is the right place for you. And the Strikers need you,” Robert said.
“Let’s hope management agrees with you since I only signed a one-year contract,” Ethan said. His agent was already working on getting an extended deal, and Ethan hoped to sign one before the All-Star break in January.
“They will. Now, if you have a minute, I wanted to talk to you about your account.”
“Sure. What’s up? Do I need to sign something?” Ethan asked, grabbing a pen from the cup holder on Robert’s desk.
“No, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to have your account managed by one of my senior accountants.”
Robert had managed Ethan’s books since Ethan signed his first large contract in New York six years ago. “Any reason why?”
“The firm is growing, and I’m spending less time actually accounting and more time running the firm. I don’t want anything to slip through the cracks, and I would like to hand over management of your account to someone I trust implicitly,” Robert said.
“If you trust them, then I’ll defer to you. I know you always have my best interest at heart,” Ethan said.
“Great. Let me call her in here,” Robert said, tapping on his keyboard.
Her. Robert had multiple female employees, but Ethan couldn’t stop the weird flutter in his chest at the possibility. He still couldn’t believe she’d been at the game last night. He fought back a chuckle remembering her response when he’d slammed into the boards in front of her. He’d spotted her early in the first period, and it was possible that he’d nudged the Minnesota captain into the boards right in front of her on purpose. Not that he’d admit that to anyone.
Her cheeks had flamed dark red, the pretzel bite falling to her lap as she stared at him. Seeing her there had spurred him on, and he’d quickly turned his focus back to the puck, digging it out of the captain’s legs and passing it to his teammate.
“Penny will be right up,” Robert said, pulling Ethan from his thoughts. This ought to go well.
There was a brief knock on the door and Penny stuck her head in. “Hey, Robert…”
She looked so nervous. He hoped Robert wasn’t just springing this on her.
“Come in, Penny. You remember my nephew, of course.”
“Yes. Hello Ethan.” She awkwardly held out her hand, her gaze darting between Ethan and Robert again.
“Good to see you again, Penny.” He grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze and schooled his features when all he wanted to do was grin from ear to ear.
She pulled her hand free and sunk into the chair next to him, her hair brushing against his jacket that still lay over the back of the chair. That would no doubt hold her soft floral scent after she left. Hell, he remembered her scent so well, how it lingered on the pillow next to his, every morning that he’d woken up beside her in Italy. He would not admit to burying his face in the slightly cool pillow that she’d left behind when she’d snuck out. Or how he’d been tempted to take the pillowcase home with him as some fucked up souvenir.
Definitely not admitting to that. To anyone. He didn’t even want to admit that to himself. Not his best moment.
“So, as we’ve discussed, you will be taking over Ethan’s account. Just wanted you to officially meet before I send his fi
les over,” Robert said, bringing Ethan back to the present. At least she knew ahead of time.
“Yes, of course,” she said, plastering on a tight smile as she looked at Robert.
“Great. I look forward to working with you,” Ethan said, fighting back the urge to squeeze her hand and tell her it wasn’t a big deal. Would working with him be that bad?
“Perfect. We are taking on new staff, and I’m going to have you shift a few smaller accounts to Kevin in the very near future, and I would like you to take on Ethan’s,” Robert continued. Ethan did not miss Penny stiffen at Kevin’s name. Something was up with that and he had an overwhelming need to find out exactly what the deal was with that guy. And if he needed to have a talk with the punk. Penny inspired a protective streak in him that he’d never had for someone who wasn’t family—that he didn’t have for most of his family.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Penny asked. Ethan wasn’t sure if she was referring to Kevin or taking over Ethan’s books.
“Yes. Kevin will need accounts of his own, and I want someone I trust implicitly with Ethan’s account,” Robert said.
“How many of my accounts are you giving to Kevin?” Penny asked, warily.
Yes, something was going on with Kevin.
“Just a couple. I have every faith that you can handle Ethan and most of your other accounts. He’s actually very easy to work with,” Robert said, before leaning closer to Penny. “He pretty much just signs anything.”
“Hey. Should I not trust what you are putting in front of me to sign?” Ethan grumbled, and Penny finally really smiled. He’d missed that smile. How her pale green eyes sparkled, her cheeks blushing a soft pink.
“You’ll sign it if you know what’s good for you,” his uncle teased. “And, I do think this will be a good fit.”
“If you’re sure you want me to know how much money you make,” Penny said, hedging.
Breakout (San Francisco Strikers Book 1) Page 6