"Enough!"
The choked laughter and strangled snickering disguised as coughs quickly faded as the coach's gaze swept around the room. That gaze landed on mine, held it for a few seconds too long—long enough to let me know I'd fucked up again—then moved back to Landry with a nod. The older man straightened his wide shoulders and smiled. An actual smile, like he was damn proud of the hideous monstrosity he held up for display.
"After practice, each of you will be issued official team gear." Landry's voice boomed with the force of a television preacher eager to reach the back row of a packed stadium. Too damn bad we were in a small room with concrete walls that bounced noise back ten-fold. "Track pants, jackets, shirts. Even gear bags. Wear it proudly."
He nodded his head, dismissing the unwashed hordes—namely us—then turned and walked out of the stuffy room. Silence remained, still and tense as every single one of us turned toward the coach. A muscle jumped in his jaw and the first hint of color spread across his cheeks. Yeah, Coach Somers was pissed but I couldn't tell if he was pissed at us, or pissed about the new uniforms.
Probably both.
He leaned to the side and muttered something to one of the assistants then turned back to us and scraped one palm over his mouth. "It's out of my hands. Deal with it."
The first rumblings of discontent started somewhere behind me but were quickly quieted by one slice of Coach's hand through the air. "I said deal with it. We've got more important things to worry about—like not making asses out of ourselves our first time out on the ice."
"Our owner pretty much took care of that already."
The muttered words came from Dylan Gleason, standing a few feet behind me and to the left. They were low enough that the coach shouldn't have been able to hear them but his head jerked in our direction anyway. Dark brows pulled low over the flat eyes fixed on me.
"You got a problem, Shaw?"
What the fuck? Did he really think I was the one running his mouth? Yeah, of course he did—because it's something I did on a regular basis. I didn't bother to toss a glare over my shoulder at Dylan, just straightened and shook my head. "No, Coach. No problem at all."
"Yeah, didn't think so." He glanced at his watch then blew out a heavy sigh. "Everyone can grab their new shit when practice is over. For now, get your asses back out on the ice. I want to see some hustle this time. Our first game of the preseason is in two weeks and all of you are looking like you've spent the last six months partying on a beach somewhere. It's pathetic."
Coach turned and stormed out of the locker room, leaving the rest of us standing there in stunned silence. Someone—Luke Matthews, I thought—let loose a string of swearing that had me biting the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing. Yeah, it sucked, because any chance of practice ending on time had just been killed with the coach's words.
And so had my chance of hooking up with Addy later.
I stepped to the side and took a seat on the bench, pretending to fix my loose laces as everyone else filed out of the room. Dammit but this sucked. We'd planned on meeting in two hours to grab an early dinner at some oyster place. Yeah, it would have been dinner to-go if I had my way, and most of it would have ended up getting cold or going to waste because it wasn't really dinner I wanted.
It was dessert.
And now I wasn't even going to have that. Maybe, if I was lucky, Addy would wait for me. The way my luck had been going, I knew she wouldn't. At least, not for as long as it would take. I figured we had another sixty minutes minimum on the ice, then another thirty after that having our asses handed to us in the form of an inspiring lecture from the coaching staff. Not to mention however long it would take to get our stylish new gear.
Fuck.
Hooking up with Addy this evening wasn't going to happen. No way in hell would I make it out of here in time. And I had no way of calling her because we hadn't exchanged numbers—by mutual consent.
Sex.
Fun.
No commitments.
More sex.
Shit.
Maybe it was better that we missed tonight. We'd been with each other damn near every night since we'd first met and even I knew that was taking the whole one-night stand concept to an extreme that was maybe starting to border on obsession. So yeah, missing one night would probably be a good thing.
I finished tying the lace of my right skate, grabbed my stick, and pushed to my feet—and almost slammed into Dylan. I frowned and started to step around him but he stayed by my side, following me from the locker room.
"What do you think about those uniforms?"
"Nothing to think. They're a joke, just like everything else about this damn team."
"You don't like it much here, do you?"
I came to a stop and turned to him, not bothering to hide my disbelief—or my disgust. "Do you?"
"It's better than not playing at all."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."
"So you'd rather be completely out? Not play anymore?"
I opened my mouth then snapped it shut before saying something stupid. As much as I hated the turn my life had taken the last year, I couldn't imagine giving up hockey. Couldn't imagine not hitting the ice. I'd been playing for too long and not playing wasn't an option. Not for me. Yeah, I'd fucked up. As much as I loved the game, I'd let my attitude get in the way and it cost me. Any chance I might have had at getting called up had died a swift death back in January, when I'd insisted on digging my own grave. I'd been released from the Bombers and landed here in New Orleans, the fledgling affiliate of the new expansion team.
The league had high hopes for the expansion team but the Bourdons...well, I'm still not sure what the hell had gone wrong there but I couldn't help feeling like the Bourdons' roster had been filled with the cast-offs and rejects from every other team. Maybe that thought was a product of my agent's quiet desperation coupled with his annoyance when I first balked at the offer—or maybe it was just me projecting my own inadequacies. More likely, it was a combination of both.
Nobody else wanted me. No other team would take me.
No wonder my attitude fucking sucked.
Gleason stood there, watching me with a curiosity I found annoying, waiting for an answer. I tightened my hand around the stick and finally shook my head. "No, I'd rather be playing. Even if it means being stuck down here."
"It's not all bad."
"Who are you trying to convince? Me—or you?"
He shrugged and I couldn't help but feeling that his nonchalance was forced. "Neither. Both. Doesn't really matter because it's really not that bad."
"Yeah. Sure."
He shrugged again and started down the short hallway leading to the ice then paused and looked over his shoulder. "A couple of us are going out later. Want to join us?"
I started to shake my head. To tell him no, that I already had plans. The truth was, I didn't. No way would Addy wait for me, not when I was going to be so late. And even if she did, maybe it would be better if we didn't hook up tonight. Maybe we needed a break. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed a break, to give myself some better perspective on the extended one-night stand we were having.
But hanging with Gleason? I wasn't sure if that was the perspective I really needed. He was a decent player but had a reputation as a troublemaker. No idea why because I hadn't heard any details but once you got a reputation like that, it stuck with you.
Then again, who the fuck was I to judge? I had my own reputation as a rule breaker—one that I did my damnedest to live up to, even now. Why the hell shouldn't I go out and have some fun? Maybe finally hanging out with some of my teammates would help with that whole cohesive thing we were missing.
I finally nodded, wondering if he sensed my lack of enthusiasm.
"Sure, why not? Not like I've got anything better to do."
Chapter Three
Addy
"I think you're being a little too eager."
"I'm not being eager."
"Whatever happened to playing hard to get?"
I leaned closer to the mirror before running some fresh color around my lips then caught Jacqui's gaze in the mirror and smiled. "That horse has already fled the barn."
"Then maybe it's time to reign it back in, Addy. You've been spending every free minute with this guy."
"Not every free minute." I broke eye contact with my best friend and focused on shoveling the pile of cosmetics back into the small bag I kept at work. Would she argue with me? Maybe. And she had every right to because her words were very close to the truth. Maybe I hadn't spent every free minute I had with Nathan but it was close. There was just something about him that I found irresistible, ever since the first night I ran into him, literally. Strong hands had closed around my arms to keep me from stumbling and when I looked up into those piercing blue eyes focused on me, I'd been lost.
Not lost as in love-at-first-sight—I didn't believe that nonsense—but lost as in drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. And while that never ended well for the moth, I was smart enough to keep my wits about me and not get burned.
Jacqui rolled her eyes then took a seat on the tattered lounge in the back room of the tiny shop. She crossed one long leg over the other, toed off one ridiculously high-heeled shoe, then absently rubbed her foot. "I just don't understand what you see in this guy, cher."
An undignified giggle bubbled up my throat and I tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow it back. Jacqui raised one artfully sculpted brow in my direction, silently daring me to say anything. Since this was Jacqui, I had no qualms with accepting the dare.
"It loses its effect when your accent comes through," I told her. And by accent, I meant her New York accent. Jacqui had moved here from the big city almost ten years ago to start a new life. She'd dyed her natural blonde hair black, adopted a whole new persona, then opened the boutique where I worked. I was pretty sure that new persona included a whole new name, plus a few other things, but she'd never said—and I never asked. To me, she was just Jacqui. Boss. Mentor. Best friend.
And sometimes, maybe a bit too invested in my personal life.
She waved a hand through the air, dismissing my comment about her accent. "You're avoiding my question, sweetheart. What is it about this guy that has you all tied up in knots?"
"I'm not tied up in knots." Not that the idea wasn't an intriguing one. I filed that thought away for later. "I just enjoy spending time with him. We're having fun."
"Every spare minute?"
"Not every minute."
"No?" Jacqui waved a hand in my direction, sweeping it from the top of my head to the bottoms of my boots. "Then why are you back here putting on fresh makeup and doing your hair?"
I tossed the small bag into the tiny cubby that held everything I kept at the boutique, more out of a need to avoid Jacqui's shrewd gaze than a desire for neatness. "We're meeting for dinner."
"Dinner. Again. Weren't you just with him earlier today?"
"Yes, but that doesn't mean—"
"Every spare minute. Hm-mmm."
"It's not like that. We're just having fun, nothing more."
"As long as you're sure that's all it is, Addy."
"Of course it is. What else would it be?"
A shadow flashed in the clear hazel eyes studying me then quickly disappeared with a blink. She leaned back and sighed. "I'm just worried about you. It's not like you to become so involved with someone so quickly."
"We're not involved. Not like that."
"Yet you're getting ready to run off to meet him. Again." She patted the tattered cushion of the lounge then slid over to make room for me. "Come. Sit. Tell me about him."
I hesitated. Not because I didn't want to tell her about Nathan, but because I was worried that maybe I'd say too much. Or maybe I was more worried that Jacqui would take anything I said and twist it to use as evidence that she was right about me spending too much time with him.
The lounge creaked as I sat down and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position on the lumpy cushion. I leaned back and crossed my own legs, deliberately mimicking Jacqui's position.
"What do you want to know?"
"Considering I only know his name, cher, anything."
"Well." I tilted my head to the side, trying to decide where to start. "He moved here two months ago. He lives in those new apartments on Iberville. He's tall—"
"Everyone is tall compared to you."
"Maybe, but he's still tall. Probably an inch or two taller than you without your heels."
"So a little over six feet—which really isn't so tall for a man." Jacqui shrugged then tossed her hair over her shoulder and nodded for me to continue.
"He has dark hair that's a little on the longer side. Gorgeous deep blue eyes. He has the most adorable little scar at the corner of his mouth that makes him look like he's trying to hide a grin and—"
"Yes, he's attractive. I understand all that. I don't want to know what he looks like, I want to know about him."
"What about him?"
"Does he have a last name? Why did he move to New Orleans? What does he do for a living?"
I shook my head, wondering if the sudden frown on my face was as deep as it felt. "I don't know. We've never talked about any of that."
"You don't even know what he does for a living?"
"No. Why would I? It's none of my business."
"How do you know he's not involved in something illegal?"
"Because he's not."
"And how would you know?"
"I just do. Nathan's not like that."
Jacqui snorted, the deep sound completely at odds with everything else about her. "Don't be so naive, cher. Not everyone is as honest or as innocent as they claim."
I had the sudden feeling that she was talking about something completely different, something from her previous life, but I didn't ask. Jacqui had her secrets—some I knew, some I didn't. Whatever secrets she wanted to keep was her business and if she wanted me to know them, she would have told me already.
"There's nothing wrong with Nathan and he's not like that." I straightened as a sudden idea popped into my head and I rushed to get it out before I could think better of it and change my mind. "You should come with me this evening. You could meet him and see for yourself."
"Meet him? Me?" Jacqui's hazel eyes rounded with surprise. A half-second later, her laughter filled the small room. "Sweetheart, you don't introduce a no-strings fling to your friends."
"Why not?"
"Because that moves it from no-strings to something a bit more personal. Something like a relationship."
I dismissed her concern with a wave of my hand. "I told you, we're just having fun. That's all."
"It sounds to me like it's more than that."
"It's not." And it wasn't. Nathan and I were just having fun, enjoying ourselves with no expectations. It could end tomorrow or next week or next month. I wasn't looking for anything more than that and I was pretty sure Nathan felt the same way. Bringing Jacqui along and introducing her didn't change any of that and I told her so.
She watched me for a long minute before a slow smile spread across her face. It wasn't a real smile, more like a sly smirk and the sight made me scoot back an inch or two. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because I'm tempted to take you up on the offer just to see how fast I scare him off."
"Why would you scare him off?" Jacqui's answer was nothing more than a silent quirk of one brow. I rolled my eyes and quickly dismissed her unspoken assumption. "You won't scare him off."
"You're so sure of that."
"I am. And if you do..." Well, if she did, then whatever fun Nathan and I were having would come to an end. It was as simple as that. "Come with me. Meet him. Then you can make up your own mind about him."
"And then what, cher? Are you going to take him home and introduce him to your father?"
"No! Of course not. Something tells me that Daddy would never approve of Nathan."
A knowing
look settled in Jacqui's eyes. "Hmm. Is that why you're so interested in him? Because Daddy wouldn't approve?"
"My father doesn't approve of anything, you know that. Nothing is good enough for his little girl." Even though I was twenty-two. Even though my sister Marie was younger. In my daddy's eyes, I was still his little girl. And he was convinced that the only thing I needed for my eternal happiness was to find a nice doctor or lawyer and marry into a family as old and established as ours then start the cycle all over again with my own children. Never mind that I wanted something completely different. Maybe I didn't know what that was just yet, but I should at least have the chance to figure it out. I wasn't even given that though, and hadn't been since Daddy nixed the whole idea of design school and convinced me to pursue something else.
Jacqui tucked her foot back into the high stiletto and stood with a grace that inspired jealousy. She leaned down and offered her hand, helping me stand before smoothing the front of her tight blouse. "Fine, I'll go. I think meeting your Nathan might prove very interesting. Knowing your father wouldn't approve has already elevated him in my eyes."
I threw my arms around her for a quick hug then stepped back. "Thank you. I just know you're going to find him as irresistible as I do. It'll be fun. You'll see."
"Fun might be a bit extreme but I have no doubt it'll at least be interesting." Jacqui looped her arm through mine and led us out to the front of the shop. "Now let's go see what your man is really made of."
Chapter Four
Addy
A fresh wave of disappointment washed over me, the bitter taste of it even sharper than the last one. As awful as it was, it wasn't nearly as bad as the knowing expression—and the sympathy—in Jacqui's eyes when she looked over at me. I forced a smile I didn't feel and reached for my drink, hoping the sweet taste of the Hurricane would wash away the lingering taste of disillusionment on my tongue. This was my third drink in a little over an hour. The fact that I was still tasting anything probably wasn't a good sign.
I pulled a long swallow through the straw, placed the tall glass on the table, then dropped my head into my hands. I stopped just short of sighing—that was too much drama, even for me. Besides, Jacqui was doing enough sighing for both of us. Of course, hers was more of a sigh of I told you so.
Rule Breaker (New Orleans Bourdons Book 1) Page 2