Blocker (Seattle Sharks Book 5)

by Samantha Whiskey

“Well,” he said. “One of you is very, very drunk.”

  I burst out laughing. “That much is true.”

  I watched Ivy for a few moments, wondering—not for the first time—what it would be like to be that carefree. That reckless and wild.

  She shifted suddenly, straightening just slightly, her lips pulling too tight at the corners.

  “Oh fuck,” I blurted, then glanced over my shoulder and up at Eric. “Sorry!”

  I bolted across the room, shoving a few walls of muscle out of my way with all the strength my five-foot-one frame possessed.

  “Hey, sis,” I said, totally cutting off whatever Crosby had been saying. “Can I borrow you for a second? Or a night,” I whispered when I wrapped my arm around her shoulder.

  “Yeah, sure, Pepper.” She flashed her best fake-grin at Crosby as she leaned into me a little too much. “See you soon,” she called over her shoulder as I dragged her toward Gage’s front door.

  The crisp fall air hit us as I guided her through the door.

  “You’re a life—” Ivy’s words gurgled the second we made it off the porch steps.

  A splatter of puke hit the flowerbed just off Gage’s entryway.

  I’d have to send a cookie-basket apology tomorrow.

  I cringed as she hurled her guts up, but I smoothed my hand up and down her spine, trying not to gag against the sour-fruity smell of the liquor that caused the sickness.

  “Saver,” she finally sighed after the worst was over. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before resuming her spot against my shoulder.

  I shifted, trying to hold her up and reach in my pocket for my cell at the same time.

  “Need some help?” Eric’s voice made me jump, which elicited a deep groan from Ivy, whose lids were now practically closed as her head lolled against my shoulder.

  “Yeah,” I said, whispering as if the entire party might hear me ask for help. “Could you get my phone and call us an Uber?”

  “You Ubered here?”

  “Yes,” I said, baring almost all of Ivy’s weight now. If I didn’t hurry, I’d never get her in the cab. “My car is…broken.” I struggled against the dead-weight that was my twin.

  “Here,” he said, reaching out his arms. “May I?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you,” I said as he scooped Ivy into his arms like she was nothing more than a sleepy puppy. I sighed, relief washing through my muscles.

  “Let me give you a lift home.”

  I raised my brows.

  “I could grab your dad if you’d feel more comfortable—”

  “No!” I cut him off. “Please. No. He’s seen Ivy drunk before, but not…incapacitated. I’d rather not be privy to a lecture.”

  “Understood. Let me take you two home.”

  I hesitated, contemplating the risk of letting a complete stranger take me home.

  Uber drivers are strangers. At least this one works for Dad.

  “What?” He grinned before I could answer. “You don’t trust a Shark?”

  Something like that.

  “Just this once,” I teased and followed him toward his massive F-150. “You’re awfully heroic.”

  “Being a decent human being counts for heroic now?” He asked as he buckled my half-conscious sister into the back cab.

  A blush crept across my cheeks. Damn this guy was good. Usually it took people days to warm up to my sardonic and nerdy banter.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” I said, hurrying around the truck to the passenger seat. He beat me there, holding my door open for me.

  I eyed him like he was a Loki illusion.

  He rolled his eyes, offering me a hand up into the truck before securely closing the door behind me. A heartbeat later he was behind the wheel.

  “Where to, Pepper?”

  An uncontrollable chill raked over my skin when he said my name. I rattled off my address and then laughed. “Iron Man,” I mumbled.

  “What was that?” he asked as he turned off of Gage’s street.

  “The way you said my name. Pepper. It was so Tony-like. Plus, the whole hero thing.”

  “Tony?”

  “Yeah. Stark?” I eyed him, noting he looked completely oblivious.

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me or to Ivy? Because I’m almost one-hundred percent certain she can’t hear you right now.”

  I only spared my snoring sister a glance before I gaped at him.

  “I thought you were messing with me earlier,” I said, shocked. “You truly don’t know anything about these movies?”

  “I’m so confused,” he said, focusing on the road.

  “You’ve never seen Iron Man?”

  “Nope,” he said.

  I gasped, grabbing the center of my chest like he’d torn out my arc reactor.

  “That’s bad?” He asked, barely holding back at laugh at my reaction.

  “It’s horrendous. At least tell me you were joking about never seeing Thor.”

  He pressed his lips together in a shameful line.

  “Oh my God! What have you been doing with your life?”

  “Um…” he arched a brow at me before returning his eyes to the road. “Hockey?”

  “Ah,” I said, nodding as he turned into our apartment complex lot. “That’s right. I forgot.”

  “Forgot what?” He asked as he parked in front of Ivy’s and my unit.

  “That for players, hockey is life.”

  He killed the ignition, hopping out of the car before I could assure him I could get Ivy into our place myself.

  I totally couldn’t.

  “You assume I have no life outside of hockey just because I haven’t seen a random movie?” Ivy’s snores didn’t stop as he scooped her out of the car and cradled her against his chest without breaking a sweat.

  “Random movie?” I mocked him as I stomped toward out front door. I threw it open, ushering him inside and to Ivy’s room. He laid her gently on her bed, and we quietly closed the door behind us. “I legit don’t have enough time in the world to tell you how wrong you are.”

  “About a movie?” He teased.

  “Yes!” I huffed. “The comic book universe is so intricate and complex and…and…ugh! There is no way you’re that oblivious.”

  “Ouch,” he said, crossing his arms over his ripped chest. “So I don’t religiously watch movies.” He shrugged. “I don’t have social media either.”

  I gaped at him again. “What? You’re a professional athlete. You have to have at least an Instagram page.”

  “Yeah, sure. One that I’ve never seen. My publicist runs it.”

  “You’re missing out.”

  He scrunched his brow. “On social media? Doubt it. If that’s life I don’t want to live it.”

  Touche.

  “Not that. Comic book movies.”

  He chuckled. “Fine, Pepper,” he said, emphasizing my name. “Enlighten me.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged, glancing around our quaint apartment. “I’m here,” he said. “Enlighten me. Show me what I’ve been missing.”

  A thrill went through me—the one signature to inducting an innocent person into a totally torture-worthy fandom. “You sure you’re up for it?” I teased.

  “Show me what you’ve got.”

  “Oh,” I said, smirking. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

  Chapter 3

  Eric

  “Damn, my head is splitting,” Connor complained as he opened his locker next to mine.

  “That’s what you get for drinking like a frat boy.” I tugged my Under Armour shirt down over my chest.

  “More like Max & Ruby reruns all morning until Jessica showed up to get Hannah.” He pointed at me and then paused. “Practice is going to suck today.”

  “Hydrate.” I grabbed an extra Gatorade out of my locker and tossed it to him.

  He caught it one-handed and nodded in thanks before chugging it.
<
br />   I grabbed my skates and sat on the bench to put them on. I was already half-way dressed, but I was always the first in the locker room to make sure I was the first one on the ice.

  “So where did you run off to last night?” Connor asked.

  “Just needed to help a friend.” I kept my eyes on my skates, pulling the laces tight.

  “You don’t have any friends.” He shot me a curious look.

  “Not true.”

  “Okay, let’s qualify that. You don’t have any friends that aren’t in this room.” He gestured around the huge square that was our locker room.

  Even Lukas was here, so I guess he was pretty right. I had a few friends in Montana, but I’d mostly dedicated myself to the ice, which didn’t leave a lot of time for relationships, period. Friendships or otherwise.

  Not that I’d met a woman who had ever been willing to deal with my insane training schedule. Now that we spent so much time on the road? Forget it.

  Except Pepper will be on the road with you.

  I banished that thought right out of my head. Pepper wasn’t an option for anything more than a working friendship. I just had to think of her the same way I saw Connor.

  Except Connor didn’t have curves like that. Thank God.

  Or crystal blue eyes that lit up like a Christmas tree at comic book movies. I had more fun watching her watch Iron Man than actually seeing the flick. Not that it was half bad. That Tony Stark guy was a badass.

  “And that rack—”

  Crosby’s voice carried down the bench as I finished tying my skates.

  “I mean, just the one is a fucking ten, but two? Twins? That’s got to make them both elevens. Where the hell has Coach been hiding them?”

  Every muscle in my body locked down tight.

  “Shut the fuck up, Crosby,” I snapped.

  “What? You pissed that I already had one crawling up on me?” He shot back before pulling on his chest protector.

  Good, he’d withstand the ass-kicking I was about to hand him.

  “Not worth it,” Connor said, his hand slamming against my chest as I stood.

  “If someone talked about Faith that way,” I muttered, knowing damn-well I wasn’t pissed on behalf of my baby sister. It was all Pepper.

  Funny, gorgeous, smart, utterly refreshing Pepper.

  “Yeah, well, we’ll just make sure to keep Faith out of Shark’s reach, okay?” Connor patted my chest like I was a dog that needed soothing.

  “And Jessica?”

  Connor’s eyes darkened and he turned back to this locker, grabbing his shin pads. “The locker room would be the safest place my sister has hung out in years. God knows what drug-addict loser she’s shacked up with right now.”

  Damn. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Connor was the most put together member of his rather fucked-up family.

  “So what do you say, Gentry?” Crosby called down. “Want to make a bet?”

  “On?” I answered, reaching for my leg pads.

  “I’ve got fifty bucks that says I fuck one of the sisters first. Or a hundred that I nail them both.” The smirk sealed his fate.

  I was off the bench in less than a heartbeat.

  Crosby’s eyes widened, then disappeared as Gage stepped in front of me. The hand he placed on my chest wasn’t what stopped me; it was Lukas and Connor on either side of me, both with a lock on my arms.

  “Whoa,” Connor said softly.

  “I’m not a fucking horse,” I replied.

  “I’ve got this,” Gage said, his tone leaving zero room for argument. “Sit on your million-dollars-a-year hands.” Then he turned back toward Crosby. “You say one more word about either of those girls and I will fucking end you. Understand?”

  “What’s going on in here?” Coach asked from behind us.

  Lukas and Connor immediately released my arms.

  “Nothing I can’t handle, Coach,” Gage answered. “Just setting the boundaries when it comes to the opposite sex.”

  “Speaking of that, everyone take a seat,” Coach ordered.

  Once we’d all done so, he moved to the center of the locker room, where he could see us all.

  I shot Crosby a glare for good measure. Gage wouldn’t have to end him, because he’d already be dead if he said that shit again.

  “Now, I hate to bring this up again, but you’re all aware that we have a no-fraternization policy.” He leveled us all with a stare colder than the ice. “In the past, you’re aware that I’ve allowed an exception to the policy.” He nodded his head toward Bentley, who was currently engaged to our trainer. “However, there will be no more given, and this more than extends to my daughters. I hate to sound like a shotgun-toting father, but anyone who crosses the line won’t just be benched—you’ll be in breach of contract and no longer a Shark. Keep your hands off my daughters. Understood?”

  A rumble of acknowledgment rolled through the locker room.

  “Why are you looking at me, Coach?” Rory Jackson asked from across the locker room. “I’m a happily married man.”

  “Yes, and you’ll notice I kept my girls out of Seattle until you were.”

  Rory laughed, breaking the tension in the room.

  “See you on the ice,” Coach said and left us to finish dressing.

  Hopefully, that warning was enough to keep Crosby’s dick in his pants.

  Hell, hopefully it was enough to warn me off, too.

  The minute I saw Pepper watching from the other side of the glass, tablet in hand, I knew I was in serious trouble. I narrowed my focus to the ice, concentrating on drills, pucks, and the fluid motion of my body, pushing myself to exhaustion.

  But every time I grabbed my water bottle from the top of the net to hydrate, I looked for her, found myself grinning at her shy smile and wave when she looked up from her tablet.

  For the first time since I’d stepped on the ice at the age of two, I couldn’t block it all out—couldn’t give the practice one-hundred percent focus.

  Pepper never left my fucking thoughts.

  Two hours later, I skated off the ice, sweat-soaked, but buzzing from a good session. There was something satisfying about the ache of well-used muscles.

  “Nice going, out there,” Pepper said, grinning up at me. Fuck me, she was tiny usually, but with my skates on she barely hit my rib cage.

  “Thanks. It was a good practice.” I ripped off my helmet and held it under one arm, squirting some of the water from my bottle onto my head and letting the cool liquid steal some of the stifling heat.

  She blinked a few times, her gaze darting over my features with a bemused expression.

  “Pepper?”

  With a jolt, she laughed, the sound awkward and charming as hell. “Right. Sorry, got distracted by you know…” she waved her hand in my general direction. “Not that I date hockey players, because I don’t. Or that I’d date you. Or you’d even want to date me. So anyway…” she looked to the side and sighed, then waved. “Hey, Mason, what are you doing here?”

  The guy from the party—Pepper’s high school ex—smiled warmly and pulled her in for a hug.

  The primal, chauvinistic, cave-man instinct I’d always thought had skipped me suddenly flared to life, every nerve in my body screaming to rip him off of her.

  So you can what? Throw her over your shoulder pads and walk away?

  At least my logical side still functioned.

  Until Mason cupped her cheek and gave her what had to be the sappiest half-smile ever. “Man, it’s so nice to have you home. I’d almost forgotten how awesome you make me feel by just being around.”

  Fuck that, carry her out.

  And logic apparently had fled the building.

  She stepped back, out of his reach, and closer to me. Take that, asshole.

  “Mason, have you met Eric Gentry? He’s the Shark’s starting goalie.”

  I fought every instinct to pull her against me, and instead removed my blocker, setting it inside my helmet.

  “Nice to me
et you.”

  The guy’s eyes widened. “Yeah, you too. You have some great numbers.”

  “Thanks. I have some really great coaches.”

  “And a great analyst, too!” Pepper added in.

  “That remains to be seen,” I teased.

  “I’ve got you pegged already,” she said, a smirk playing across her pink lips.

  “Do you?”

  “Yep. You’re strong in the glove, great with the stick, and your ratio of rebound goals is killer and getting better. My guess is, given the way your butterfly is looking, you’re recovered from that knee injury?”

  My jaw dropped. “I didn’t tell anyone I had a knee injury.”

  “Didn’t have to. Stats don’t lie. You favored that side for the beginning of the season.” Those blue eyes of hers called me out.

  Fuck me. Beautiful, funny, smart as hell, a body curved for sin, and completely. Fucking. Untouchable.

  “So, I was looking for your dad,” Mason interrupted. “He said something about coming up to practice with you guys.” He gave me a fake-humble shrug. “I play a little, too.”

  “A little, ha!” Pepper laughed. “He was drafted right out of high school. My dad begged him to go to college first, but he went straight into the NHL.”

  My forehead puckered. “Mason…” I led, looking for a last name.

  “Hall,” he supplied with a cocky grin. “I only played two years with the Ducks. Turns out I did need some time maturing my game.”

  “Hall. As in Bobby Hall.”

  “That’s my dad.”

  This kid wasn’t just some minor league player trying to use Pepper to step up into the NHL again, he was hockey royalty.

  “Nice. He’s one of the greats.”

  “So he likes reminding me,” Mason forced a laugh. “Your dad?” he asked Pepper again as I heard the familiar ring of my cell phone from the bag I’d left in the hallway.

  It was my mother’s ringtone.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I said to them both, going for my cell.

  “Oh, he just came off the ice. You might try his office,” Pepper said as I swiped my phone open. “Hello,” I growled a little harshly, seeing Mason run his hand down Pepper’s arm.

  “Eric?”

  “Mom, yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to snap. Everything okay?”