by Jennie Marts
He could handle the change and the new team easier than sending his brother into the lion’s den. And the head lion sat across from him now.
Coach Steve Cavanaugh had been with the St. Louis Blueshirts for ten years. He was loved and respected and known for not putting up with crap from his team.
He checked his watch and looked down his nose at Bane. “I value promptness in my players. And professionalism. I have to say, showing up thirty minutes late looking like you slept in your shirt and smelling like alcohol doesn’t make the best first impression.”
“I apologize, sir. My flight was delayed. It won’t happen again.”
Not only had their flight been delayed, their baggage had taken forever. Addison had been clearly stressed about being late, fidgeting and craning her neck to see the next bag that fell onto the luggage carrier. Thankfully, her bag had come out early.
All the easy intimacy that they’d had in the plane seemed to end as the lights came on and the passengers filed out of the plane. They’d walked together to the baggage claim area, but didn’t talk much, except to complain about the snow and how late they were. He’d told her that he’d like to call her, and she’d hurriedly scribbled her number on a scrap of paper from her purse then given him an awkward hug before racing out of the terminal.
He’d had to wait not only for his luggage, but his equipment, and had been dismayed to find out his stick had been broken on the turbulent flight. Granted, it was a practice stick, but he’d still had to take the time to fill out a damage claim and get a car rented.
He finally got his car and his equipment loaded, only to find that the storm and the snow had slowed the morning traffic to a crawl.
Overall, not a great impression to make on his first day.
The coach studied him, his eyebrows knitted together in an angry expression. “Look, your coach is a friend of mine. We go way back. And he’s vouched for you. But make no mistake, this is a trial period for you. I’ve seen you play, and I know you have skills, but I also know you have a reputation for being a hothead and not always the most responsible guy.”
As the oldest brother, he was actually very responsible. But early in his NHL days, he had been a little wild. He was often seen at parties and clubs, and he’d had one rocky relationship with a well-known pop singer a few years ago, and the press had had a field day with it. They loved to make him out to be the bad-boy jock that partied and left broken hearts in his wake. But in reality, he wasn’t much of a bad boy at all anymore.
That relationship had been a wake-up call for him, and he’d also grown up a little, hopefully matured, and he focused more on his game and less on his social life. But the press wouldn’t let go of that bad reputation.
He nodded solemnly at the coach. “I understand your concern, sir. But those irresponsible days are behind me now. I’m totally committed to the game and to my teammates. I won’t let you down.”
“I hope not, son. I’m pretty serious about this. I want to see you buckle down the next few weeks with us. And I mean it. Total focus on the game. No booze, no parties, no women. And no fighting.”
He nodded his agreement to the coach. “Yes, sir. You can count on me.”
No booze, no parties, no problem. He didn’t really care about that. He could put all of his concentration into the game. And he could rein in his temper on the ice and adhere to the no fighting.
But no women? That was gonna be a problem.
Not women. But woman.
One woman.
One woman he couldn’t stop thinking about.
He hadn’t dated in months, hadn’t really even cared. He really had been totally devoted to the game.
But meeting Addison had thrown his whole world onto its side. Something about her had touched him. Well, she’d actually touched him, and it had been amazing.
That kiss had been freaking spectacular. But something about her had also touched his heart. And he really liked her.
He’d been an idiot last night, freaking out over the turbulence. He normally put on a pretty tough exterior, but something about last night, the dark plane, the stressful flight, he didn’t know what it was. But he’d let down his guard with her—let her see the real him.
Yeah, he still tried to tease and charm her, but he’d been his real self with her. The self that only his family and good friends got to see anymore. The self that didn’t have to guard his words or his actions in case he was being quoted for an article or because someone was just using him for his celebrity status.
Not that he saw himself as a celebrity. He was just a hockey player, a guy that got sweaty and smelly and worked his ass off for his two-minute shifts on the ice. Two minutes that he got to play the sport he loved.
But Addison didn’t know any of that. He hadn’t even mentioned hockey to her. She seemed to like him just for him.
The coach’s office door opened.
And she walked in.
As if he had conjured her there with his very thoughts, Addison walked in to the room, her long, dark hair resting on her shoulders, and her snug skirt hugging her perfect curves.
She ignored him, didn’t even notice him; instead her focus and her gorgeous smile were aimed at Coach Cavanaugh as she crossed the room to lay a kiss on his cheek. “Hey, Dad. Sorry I’m late, my flight was delayed.”
OH. SHIT.
The coach wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a quick squeeze. “Hi, honey. I was starting to get worried. I’m glad you’re here. I want you to meet someone.”
Dad? Honey? Bane struggled to catch up. She was Steve Cavanaugh’s daughter???
She turned to him then, and a puzzled expression crossed her face. “Ben?”
“Not Ben. Bane. Bane Bannister,” the coach explained. “Bane plays for the Colorado Summit, but we’re giving him a trial run—talking about a trade.”
Her face now held a bewildered expression, and her shoulders slumped as if all the air had been let out of balloon. “Bane?” She repeated the word, her expression changing as her anger built with each syllable. “Bane Bannis-freaking-ster?”
He shrugged and gave her a little wave. “Hi.”
Yeah, that didn’t help. Her features darkened, and now he could see the family resemblance in the angry arch of her slanted eyebrows. Her dad had just been giving him that same serious look.
“Do you two know each other?” the coach asked.
“No,” she said emphatically. “I thought maybe we did, for a second there. But I was wrong. We don’t actually know each other at all.”
“Well, now you do. Bane, this is my daughter, Addison Cavanaugh.”
Bane rose from his chair and reached out a hand to shake hers.
She narrowed her eyes at him, remaining fixed where she stood, her arms crossed and her hands tucked firmly into her side.
“Addison.” Her dad only had to say her name, and like a petulant teenager, she obeyed, reaching out her hand to quickly shake Bane’s.
Her hand was warm, but held none of the actual warmth that it’d had hours ago when he’d held it against his chest.
“Bane, we’re having our annual team Christmas party at my home this evening. We’d love it if you could attend,” the coach said.
Bane nodded. Would Addison be there? Hopefully he’d have a chance to mend the damage that he’d done. “Sure, of course. I’ll just need to pick up a suit today. Do you have any recommendations for a good tailor that can work quickly?”
“Addie can help you. It’s black tie, so you’ll need a tux. She can take you out for some lunch, then to a couple of places that I’m sure can get you taken care of.”
“No, Dad, I can’t. I have things to do today.”
He waved away her objections and gestured to Bane. “Look at this guy. He obviously needs some fashion help. And you’re great at this. I’m introducing him tonight, and I want him to look good. And it’s partly my fault because I didn’t tell him he would need a tux. So you’d be making up for my bad manners. I
really need your help with this, honey.”
Bane could see her softening. It was obvious that Addison was used to giving in to the coach, from both her unwilling consenting and his assuming expectation that she would comply.
It would be so easy for him to save her. He was a big boy and knew how to pick out a tux all on his own. But if he let her off the hook, he’d miss out on a chance to spend time with her and hopefully win her back over.
She looked over at him, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll take him to get a tux.”
“Great. That’s settled, then,” the coach said. “Bane, take today to get your bearings and get set up in your hotel. You can start practicing with the team tomorrow. You’ll meet them all tonight at the party. I’ll expect you at my house this evening at seven sharp. Addison can give you the address. Don’t be late.”
“I’ll be there, sir.” He reached across the desk to shake the coach’s hand. “I’ll see you tonight. Seven sharp.”
The coach turned to his daughter. “Look, honey, I’m not going so far as to say that he needs a babysitter, but Bane and I have spoken at length about his expected behavior. He knows that I’ve given him strict instructions for no partying, no alcohol, no women, and no fighting. He’s got to keep his nose clean and his fists under control.”
That felt great. His new coach was assigning his daughter to babysit him. It would be much more humiliating if Addison didn’t make such a hot babysitter.
“Dad, I don’t think he’s going to get drunk, pick up a woman, and get in a fight while having lunch and picking out a tux.”
The coach huffed. “Yeah, well, you don’t know this guy like I do. He could pick a fight with someone before he’s even left the building.”
Addison looked at Bane, her eyes flashing pain and sadness, then she turned back to her dad. “No, I suppose I don’t know him like you do. I don’t really know him at all.”
Her dad leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will be fine. He’s assured me that he’ll be on his best behavior and stay out of trouble.”
“Whatever. Let’s go, Mr. Bannister.” Addison headed for the door. “I’ll see you later, Dad.”
Bane grabbed his jacket and raced down the hall after her. Dang, she made good time in those heels. “Addison, wait up. I want to talk to you.”
She stopped so abruptly that he almost slammed into her. “What for? So you can tell me some more of your bullshit? Did you know who I was the whole time? Was that all just a ploy for you to get in good with my dad?”
“What? No, of course not. I had no idea who you were. And you never even told me your last name.”
“Evidently, you never told me your name at all, Ben.”
He looked at the floor. “Yeah, that probably wasn’t one of my best decisions.”
“Why? Why didn’t you tell me you were Bane Bannister? Or at least tell me your name was Bane?”
He ran a hand across his hair and blew out a sigh. “I don’t know. It was a snap decision. Maybe because I didn’t really want to be Bane Bannister to you. You were pretty and sweet. And you seemed to like me. Like me without knowing who I was. I play hockey for the NHL, and I get recognized a lot. And not always in a good way or a positive light. Do you know how many people judge me by what the press says about me, or that try to get in good with me or act like they want to be friends, just because I play for the Summit?”
Her expression softened a little. “I guess I can see that.”
He took a tentative step closer and lowered his voice. “Plus, I didn’t feel like Bane Bannister. Bane is a tough bastard who knocks guys down and gets into fights. Bane is not the guy who trembles in fear at a little turbulence in the sky. I didn’t feel brave. I didn’t feel tough. I didn’t feel like Bane the Brawler.” He offered her a crooked grin. “I felt more like Bane’s awkward, nervous counterpart, Ben.”
Her posture had relaxed a little from her earlier rigid stance. And he felt like he might be gaining a little ground with her. He didn’t want to think about how important it was to him that he win her over and get back into her good graces. He’d think about that later.
“Can you understand that? Just a little?” He picked up her hand and gently squeezed it. “Can you forgive me?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess, maybe.” She glanced up at him and the corners of her lips tipped up in the slightest smile. “It depends on where you’re taking me for lunch.”
Yes. He’d earned a smile. And a weak attempt at a joke. He was back in the game. He grinned and went in for the shot. “Who makes the best pizza?”
She laughed and shook her head.
Score.
Before he could say more, the elevator dinged and a blond-haired guy stepped out. He saw Addison and headed toward her. From his build and the cocky way that he walked, Bane guessed that he was a player, both on the ice and off. He was probably also one of Bane’s new teammates.
He approached Addison, slid an arm around her waist, and leaned his head down as if to kiss her. “Hey, baby.”
What the hell?
She deflected the kiss and pulled out of his embrace, an annoyed look on her face. “Get off me, Trent. And I’m not your baby.”
He shrugged, apparently unfazed by her tone. “You get my text? Did you bring me a breakfast burrito? I hope you got the mushrooms this time, like I told you, too.”
“No, I did not bring you anything. I just flew in and barely had time to shower and change before racing down here. Plus, I’m not your errand girl. Remember, I’m not your girl at all.”
Bane could feel the tension rolling off Addison’s shoulders, and a pink tinge colored her cheeks.
The guy shrugged. “Whatevs.” He cocked a thumb at Bane. “Who’s this?”
Bane held out his hand. “Bane Bannister from the Colorado Summit.”
He shook Bane’s hand, his grip a little too firm—like he was trying to prove something. “Trent Hadley.” He tilted his head and gave Bane a wary look. “So what’s one half of the Bannister Brawlers doing in St. Louis and in Blueshirts territory?”
“Dad is looking at Bane for a possible trade,” Addison explained.
Trent arched an eyebrow. “In the middle of the season? Who’d you piss off?”
Bane shrugged, trying to dismiss the invasive question. This guy might end up being his teammate, after all. Although usually the younger guys showed a little more respect to the veteran players, and Bane had obviously been in the league several more years than this guy. “Long story. I think I’ll be skating with you tomorrow, though.”
“All right. Cool. See you later, then.” He winked at Addison, a slimy wink that made Bane’s skin crawl. Addison didn’t look like she appreciated it much either. “I’ve got to talk to Coach, but I’ll see you tonight.”
They watched as Trent sauntered down the hall toward the coach’s office.
Bane nodded at the cocky player. “So, just who is Douchy McDouche, and why does he think you oughta be bringing him breakfast?”
She rolled her eyes then turned and led him down the hall. “We used to date, but I broke things off with him almost a month ago.”
“Are you sure? ’Cause I don’t think he got the memo.”
“Oh, I’m sure. This sport encourages violence and acting tough, but he crossed the line with me, and I don’t put up with that.”
Bane’s blood instantly boiled, and he turned back down the hall. Who did this guy think he was? “He laid his hands on you?”
“No, he didn’t hit me. Are you kidding? My dad would have thrown him off the team. But he got way too aggressive and belligerent with me, and I can’t stand that type of arrogance.”
He dropped his jacket and yanked up the sleeves of his shirt, his blood pumping and his adrenaline gearing up for a fight.
Addison stopped and planted her hands on her hips. “Seriously? What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m goin
g to teach him a lesson about how ladies deserve to be treated.”
“Not right now, you’re not. Do it later, when you’re on the ice. Right now you need to keep your nose clean and your fists under control. Besides, I can fight my own battles.” She turned and headed down the hall without him, mumbling something about this was why she didn’t date hockey players.
She was right, of course. He didn’t need to be starting a fight. Especially with one of his own teammates. But Trent might find himself against the boards a few extra times during practice tomorrow.
***
Addison thumbed through a stack of ties, looking for one to match the tux that Bane had been trying on.
After an amazing lunch at her favorite pizza place, she and Bane had made it to the men’s store, and she’d helped him pick a suitable tux for the party that night. She had a strong suspicion that he was wholly capable of picking it out on his own, but he’d asked her opinion and taken her advice on the tux choice.
The store had been surprisingly empty—they’d been the only customers in the place for the past hour. Addison chalked it up to most men already having their holiday apparel ordered and purchased.
Bane was in the back dressing rooms, trying on the tux they had picked and having it measured and sized for tailoring. She dropped into the velvet chair that sat by the door to the dressing rooms and tried not to think about him being six feet away and undressed.
What was she thinking, letting herself get sucked into this man’s space?
Had she forgotten about The Rule?
Don’t date hockey players.
It seemed like a pretty simple rule. So why was it so hard to follow?
To be fair, she had kind of fallen for Bane before she knew he was a hockey player. And he did seem different than the other hockey players she had dated.
At least so far. He didn’t seem arrogant or cocky. He was funny. And cute. Like, so freaking cute.
But he’d also been part of a scandal involving that pop star and had a reputation for being a player and a partier. Was he just playing with her now? Was she just a game to him? It didn’t feel like it. And if she remembered right, that whole thing with the pop star was several years ago.