Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)

by S. R. Grey

  “Where’s Thor?”

  She remembered Benny from the party way back in August, but as Thor. When I told her Thor and Benny were one and the same, she was all about meeting him tonight.

  “His name is Benjamin, not Thor,” I remind her as I smooth my flowy red sequin halter down over the low rise of my skinny jeans.

  “Yes, yes, I know.” She glances around the packed living room. ”So where is he?”

  Brent comes over to where we’re talking, having lost Jock in the crowd. I can’t take my eyes off him. You’d think we’d been apart for days, as opposed to five minutes. Oh hell, what can I say? Brent is stunningly handsome in the sleek black suit he chose to wear tonight, leaving me simultaneously in awe of and in lust with him.

  But my libido is put on hold when I see he’s frowning. “Uh-oh, what’s wrong now?”

  He sighs as he throws an apologetic glance at Lainey. “I have some bad news. Benny just sent a text. He’s decided to stay home tonight.”

  Lainey is clearly disappointed, but takes it well. “Maybe we can meet another time,” she says.

  “Yeah, maybe.” I sigh.

  Brent opens his mouth to no doubt chime in with something reassuring, but just then Nolan, clad in a dark suit of his own, one that makes him look like a spy or a secret agent, comes over and puts his slimy arms around me and Brent.

  He’s a little drunk and his words are slightly slurred, especially when he says, “Which one of you lovebirds is going to introduce me to this gorgeous creature hanging out with you tonight?”

  He then nods to my sister.

  Yes, my sister, who instead of being offended like she damn well should be, starts lapping up Nolan’s pervy attention like a thirsty bitch in heat. The two of them can’t hide their lust when they start undressing each other with their eyes.

  Ugh.

  “Not me,” I announce as I hip-check Nolan away from me and into Brent.

  He laughs. “Damn, Oliver, maybe we should get Aubrey on the roster.”

  Brent laughs right along with his friend. “I told you, Solvenson, don’t mess with my girl. She’s back, and she’s feistier than ever. She’ll lay you out in a minute.”

  “Clearly,” Nolan mutters.

  Brent then does the honor and introduces Lainey to Nolan.

  Lainey, eyes dreamily focused on Nolan, says to him in her most sultry tone, “For the record, Nolan, you can mess with me anytime you want. And you might like the way I lay you out.”

  What the ever-loving…?

  Brent and I gape at each other, and then at my deranged sister. Nolan, loving it, slips away from us and goes to stand next to her, where they engage in flirty conversation.

  “How much champagne did she have?” Brent murmurs to me.

  “I don’t know, but apparently enough that she’s totally channeling her inner puck bunny.”

  “Who knew she had one?” he remarks.

  “Not me. She usually hates sports.”

  “Like someone else I know.”

  “What? I love sports.”

  He gives me a look, and I quickly amend, “Well, I love hockey.”

  “You didn’t at first.”

  “Yeah, and that’s a tragedy. I didn’t know what I was missing.”

  Draping his arm around me, he says softly, “I’d like to think I’ve been a part of the reason for your change of heart.”

  “Part of the reason?” I peer up at him, hoping he sees the love in my eyes. “More like pretty much the whole reason. You’re a good hockey ambassador, Brent Oliver.”

  We share a quick peck, but then I notice Nolan is successfully charming Lainey.

  When he makes her laugh, I elbow Brent and say, “Seriously, we need to stop this from happening.”

  I do not want Nolan and my sister hooking up. I hate him, and I love her. This has the makings of an epic disaster.

  But before Brent and I can intercede, Nolan and Lainey stroll away from us. I overhear him asking if she’d like a refill on her champagne. Damn charmer. I also don’t miss the way his hand is resting low on the small of her back, which is totally exposed in the short, shimmery gold lamé dress she has on.

  “He better not sleep with her,” I warn Brent.

  “Why are you griping to me?” he retorts. “They’re two consenting adults.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I grudgingly concede.

  Brent then has the balls to say to me, “Word is Nolan has a way with the ladies. If they do hook up tonight Lainey might end up having the time of her—”

  I smack his arm. “What the hell, Brent? Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  Leaning down to kiss me, and thus placate me, he says, “Yours, babe. I will always be on your side.”

  I make out with him for a few minutes because, well, he’s freaking Brent Oliver. And we’re in love. But then I come to my senses and pull back. “Brent, seriously, can you try and save my sister from your hockey-whore friend?”

  Sighing, he steps back and says, “Let me see if I can get him alone for a minute and talk to him.”

  “Be sure to warn him that I’ll castrate him if he hurts Lainey.”

  Brent mutters, “Damn, Aubrey, that’s a little harsh. Remind me never to piss you off.”

  “Aw…” I go to him and slide my arms up around his neck. And then I whisper, “Don’t worry. I’d never, ever, ever harm that part of you.”

  Grinding that part of him against me, he murmurs, “No, I have a feeling you wouldn’t. You like what I do to you with it way too much.”

  I grind right the hell back, and he gets hard instantly. “Yes, sir,” I breathe out. “I sure do.”

  Brent glances around. “We should get out of here.”

  “What about Lainey? What about talking with Nolan?”

  “They’ll be fine. Nolan is probably about to pass out anyway.”

  I’m not so sure about that—Nolan’s not known for passing out when he drinks—but I know in my heart that my sister can take care of herself.

  Sliding my hands down to Brent’s firm ass, I say, “Okay. Let’s go home.”

  We take off to ring in the New Year the best way I can think of—with Brent Oliver buried deep inside me.

  A Walk of Shame. But Not Mine This Time

  The next morning I get up extra early. Aubrey is still sleeping, satisfied and exhausted. Brent 51 and DPMB are lying on the floor. Yeah, I made sure she celebrated the New Year with multiple orgasms. The toys filled in—quite literally—when I had to wait to get hard for the next round.

  As I make my way downstairs, I catch sight of Lainey slipping in through the front door. It’s a walk of shame if ever I’ve seen one. And I’ve seen a lot. Hell, I’ve had many of my own, from before I met Aubrey.

  “Oh, hey, Brent,” she says shyly when she sees me.

  “Have fun last night?” I ask, cocking a brow as I take in her disheveled appearance—rumpled dress and heels in hand.

  Yawning, she says, “Yeah, I had far too much fun. I think I’m going to crash till my flight leaves later.”

  As she heads to the bedroom we gave her on the first floor, I can’t resist asking, “Nolan treat you okay?”

  She stops, turns around. A blush creeps up her neck as she demurely replies, “Yeah. He’s an, uh, interesting guy.”

  “That he is.”

  I’m dying to know if he nailed her, and I kind of think he did, but I’m not about to ask directly. I may not even find out from Nolan. He usually keeps that shit quiet, especially if he really likes the girl he’s hooked up with.

  Before Lainey continues on her way, she hesitates. “Is Nolan, like, seeing anyone?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  She smiles. “Okay, thanks. I better go get some sleep.”

  I should warn her not to get her hopes up—Nolan isn’t a relationship kind of guy—but she’s gone before I have the chance. Maybe it won’t matter anyway since she has to go back to Minnesota. Her final semester starts in a couple of
days, and I’m sure she’ll forget all about Nolan Solvenson soon enough.

  With the contract worries out of the way, and no hard feelings between Aubrey and team management—it was their mistake, after all—she and I have a blast. She comes to every home game, and I pay for her to travel with the team when we’re on the road. No one has a problem with her presence. In fact, all the guys love her, even more so than before since she’s officially with me. I think they realize what a positive influence she’s been, and continues to be, in my life.

  There’s no question about that, seeing as I’m leading the league in scoring and the team remains securely in first place.

  Benny is still her bestie on the team. Breeze likes her a lot too. She and Nolan verbally spar all the time, like always, but I’ve come to accept that it’s just their way. It makes me glad that anything going on between him and Lainey fizzled out. That is, if there ever was something there to begin with.

  Nolan hasn’t owned up to sleeping with her on New Year’s Eve, and Lainey’s not mentioned a word to Aubrey.

  If she had, I’d surely hear about it.

  Aubrey still has no idea Lainey stayed over Nolan’s house the night of the party. I thought about saying something, but, really, it’s Lainey’s tale to tell. Not to mention, I’ve learned enough to know to stay out of their sisterly crap.

  I do get a little suspicious from time to time that something is going on with Lainey and Nolan, especially when we have a road game against the Minnesota Wild and Nolan goes MIA, save for practice, which is not like him at all. When I ask Benny if he knows where Nolan’s been wandering off to, he tells me he has no clue and I believe him.

  The real kicker, though, is when Aubrey can’t convince her sister to meet her for lunch on game day.

  “Lainey’s acting really sketchy,” Aubrey complains to me when she puts down her phone. “She claims she has exams to study for and can’t get away to go to lunch. Something feels off, Brent.”

  “What do you mean?” I carefully inquire.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, but I bet it has to do with a guy. Maybe Lainey has a secret boyfriend or something.”

  Oh, fuck.

  Sighing, she adds, “I guess she and I will have to hang another time.”

  “Guess so, babe.”

  I’m trying to maintain a nonchalant tone, and I guess it works since the subject is dropped.

  Shit. I don’t have the heart to tell Aubrey that Lainey may be holed up with Nolan, banging the day away till game time. I don’t know if it’s true, so I keep my mouth shut. No need to get shit stirred up.

  Further bolstering my suspicions, however, Nolan arrives at the arena shortly before game time looking rather satiated. He plays really well, scoring late in the third period on a drop pass from me. That breaks the tied score and we end up winning.

  We actually do a lot of winning throughout all of January, and into February. Things are great with my family, as well. Dad continues to improve, and my mom is back to her usual happy self. Also, for me, life remains incredible with Aubrey in it. The only thing threatening to fuck things up is that damn upcoming LA assignment.

  Fuck that celebrity dude. I don’t want her to leave me.

  Two days before she’s set to fly out of Vegas and onto LA, I am miserable. Still, I keep my promise to be supportive, even offering to help her pack.

  Up in our bedroom, grasping at straws, I sit down on the bed and say, “Do you really have to go, babe? Playoffs are only a little over two months away. I need you here with me now more than ever.”

  She sighs. “Brent, what can I do? This is my job we’re talking about.”

  She’s been pretending to be committed to this new assignment, but I can tell she wants to stay with me as much as I want her to. I haven’t told her yet, lest I get her hopes up for nothing, but I talked with Dolby the other day. I asked him if there’s any way the team can hire Aubrey on in a permanent position.

  Before you laugh and think I’m just a fool in love, it’s not that far-fetched of an idea. The team’s ownership likes her being around all of us. And why wouldn’t they? We’re winning like crazy, in part because Aubrey keeps us all grounded.

  Just the other day, Benny was jonesing for a drink. “One won’t kill me,” he said on the flight home from an away game.

  “Dude, don’t do it,” I warned.

  “You’re an ass if you ruin your sobriety now,” Nolan threw in, shaking his head.

  It was Aubrey, though, who got Benny over the hump.

  She moved next to his seat. And though she knows enough about hockey these days that she could probably teach a class of her own, she started asking Benny about game strategy and plays.

  Of course, he was into that. So much so that the old dry-erase board was dusted off and brought out. Unfortunately, its emergence came just as Coach Townsend was heading up to the lavatory in the front of the plane.

  “Hey,” Coach T said, stopping in the aisle. “Is that one of mine?”

  “Uh…” Benny turned beet red. “Yeah, uh, I may have borrowed it a while back.” Sheepishly, he added, “You have a bunch, so I didn’t think you’d miss just one.”

  “Maybe not, but even so…” Coach sighed. “I’ve been looking for that particular board since October. See that heart drawn on the back?”

  Benny flipped over the board, and we all leaned in to have a peek. And wouldn’t you know it, there was a little heart drawn on the back.

  “That particular dry-erase board,” the coach went on, “was a gift from my wife.”

  Benny’s eyes widened. “Wow, I never noticed that heart there before. I’m really sorry, Coach.”

  He started to hand the board back, but Aubrey put out her arm. “Can you hold up a minute, Coach T? This is actually all my fault. I asked Benny way back in the fall if he could teach me the game. He borrowed the board so he could diagram a bunch of plays for me.”

  Coach smiled. He clearly liked what the board had been used for and immediately softened, which you don’t see much of with him.

  Easing the dry-erase board back to Benny, he said, “Ah, hell. My wife gives me one of those things at the start of every season. That’s why I have so damn many. Just go ahead and keep that one, Perry.”

  Even Coach T is positively affected by Aubrey, lending further credence to my assertion that hiring her makes total sense. She hasn’t worked for the team since the contract termination in December, but business is business. If they believe she’s worth the investment they’ll hire her in a minute.

  Only problem is the minutes are ticking away. The day Aubrey has to fly to LA is almost here.

  And I’ve still not heard a thing from Dolby.

  Good-Byes Suck

  The day I leave for LA arrives.

  This is it, another sad good-bye. Only this one is harder than any before because I’ve fallen more in love with Brent.

  There are tears, lots of tears, and promises to Facetime every single day. It won’t be the same, though.

  Damn it all to hell! I want to stay here with Brent. I don’t want to go live near—or God forbid, with—some problem actor in LA. But I need my job. I refuse to become one of those player girlfriends or wives who do nothing but gossip, shop, and stir up drama.

  Yeah, I’ve watched WAGS.

  And hell no, that’s so not me.

  On the way to the airport, I notice Brent is exceptionally quiet. So, clearing my throat, I try to draw him into a conversation.

  “Maybe I won’t have to stay all that long in California.”

  I’m throwing something out, however lame, to maybe make this easier for both of us.

  But Brent’s not buying it. “You stayed with me, under contract, for four months,” he replies. “And it would’ve been longer had I not fucked up.”

  I place a hand on his hard thigh, and he hits the gas. He’s frustrated, wound up.

  “Brent, please.” I blow out a breath. “Don’t kill us on the way there, okay?”


  “Sorry, babe.” He slows down.

  Still, even going the speed limit we reach the exit ramp leading to the airport way too soon. “I’m going to park and come in with you,” Brent suddenly declares.

  We discussed it before we left and agreed that dropping me off at the curb would make this easier. But, really, nothing is going to do that.

  Squeezing his thigh, I tell him, “Good. I want you with me till the last possible second.”

  Inside the terminal, Brent uses his charm and convinces the ticketing agent to give him a pass to allow him to go to the gate with me. On the way there he seems distracted again, like something is weighing on his mind. I’d chalk it up to him being upset about me leaving, but it seems the phone in his hand is what’s occupying him. He keeps checking it every couple of minutes.

  I look over at him as we walk and raise a questioning brow. “Are you waiting for an important call or something?”

  He looks guilty, even as he insists, “Um, no.”

  I stop and make him look at me. “Hey, you don’t have some former puck bunny lined up to meet you after I’m gone, do you?”

  I’m kidding—sort of—but Brent doesn’t find it funny. “That’s not even remotely amusing, Aubrey,” he tells me.

  Trying not to be overly emotional, I admit, “I’m making stupid jokes ’cause I don’t want to leave you.” I lean my forehead against his chest. “Maybe I should just quit.”

  Wrapping his arms around me, he says, “But you love your job.”

  Stepping back, I stare up at him like he’s nuts. “I do not love my job. I like working, yes, but I haven’t loved this job for a long time now. The only fun times I’ve had in the past year were the days I spent with you.”

  “Aw, babe, that’s sweet of you to say.”

  He tries to pull me in for another hug, but I place a hand on his chest. “No, wait. You know what?” I let go of Brent and start rummaging through my carry-on bag, searching for my phone. “I’m calling Mr. Delahunty right now. I’m handing in my resignation. I haven’t been happy working this position in ages. I even remember bitching about it to Lainey, before my work assignment with you even started. I’m done, Brent. I’ll worry about finding something else later, but I’m making sure, first, that it’s something that’ll make me happy, something that’ll make us both happy.”