Mason whistled. “And you do all that solo?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m one of five. I already have a good crew. We’ll all work together to keep track of time-on-ice, faceoffs won/lost, shots on goal, missed shots, shot types, hits, takeaways, penalties…all of it.”
“Don’t envy you,” he said. “All the years I’ve known you, and I still can’t believe you’re into all this shit.”
I hissed. “This shit lets me help the team win games.”
He raised his hands, palms up. “Whoa, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I only meant the numbers and everything. The quick thinking.”
“You’re saying you don’t think fast on the ice?” I challenged, the hot air rushing out of my lungs.
“No, of course, I do,” he said. “But that is different. When I’m on the ice…everything else fades away. The crowd, the other players, it’s me and the one guy I need to steal the puck from.”
Like every other player.
Hockey was life.
And now that I was part of the team, it would become mine, too. But, I’d learned enough from Dad over the years to know I would become an expert at compartmentalizing. If I didn’t? I’d fuse with the Sharks and never see myself again. Not that Dad didn’t try—but he was married to the game.
I fell silent again, despite Mason making no move to leave my side.
Focused, calm, centered.
This was practice for the Sharks and I both. I needed to keep my skills sharp, train my brain to track the stats until I could do it in my sleep.
After practice, I was up to my elbows in stats, crunching the numbers to sharpen my skills. Adrenaline coursed through my blood with each set and result, my stomach thrilling with the completion of a formula. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten so lucky to land my dream job. I’d earned this title, and I was determined to prove to anyone who ever doubted my position on this team simply because of my father’s status just how wrong they were.
I drowned out the memory of the paparazzi’s loaded questions and finished up my work.
“Pepper, wait up!” Mason called behind me in the hallway as I headed for the arenas’ exit.
I stopped, my boots squeaking against the slick floors as I spun around. “What’s up, Mason?” I thought he’d ducked out after practice had ended.
“I thought maybe you might want to have dinner?”
I started walking again, and he fell into step beside me.
“Um…” I swallowed hard. The exit doors were in sight like a beacon. If I could reach them maybe I wouldn’t have to come up with an answer.
“Or coffee?” He asked.
I fished my cell out of my pocket, bringing up the Uber app.
The doors were only a few steps away, but I’d still have to stand and wait a few minutes for the ride. Before I could order the car, Mason gently grabbed my wrist, forcing me to look at him.
“Comic book store?” He raised his brows as we came to a stop in front of the doors.
I laughed, sighing. “You’re that desperate? You hate comics.”
“I could stand the fru-fru crap for you.”
I glared at him, pressing my lips together before I could launch into a million reasons why he was so off-base.
Chatter filtered through the exit doors.
Lots of chatter.
Too much, actually.
I craned my neck, pushing the door open slightly before slamming it shut again.
“Damn,” I hissed.
“What is it?” Mason asked, repeating my peek motion. “Oh!” He said, excitement coloring his voice. “They’ve been insatiable all season. It’s because the Sharks are on a hot streak.”
Paparazzi. I understood they had a job to do, but they hadn’t been too kind to me the other day, and being the center of attention made my palms sweat.
I wiped them on my leggings and sighed.
Ivy was perfect for that world. The action, the attention. It was no wonder she was interning at one of the local magazines.
I glanced behind me. “There’s a back way out, right?”
“Screw that,” Mason said and gripped my arm. Before I could blink, we were through the doors and facing thirty of Seattle’s ravenous reporters.
“Ms. Harris!” One of them yelled.
I was stuck with them blocking a clear path to my non-existent car and Mason behind me. If there were a path, I would’ve sprinted all the way home.
“What do you think the rest of the season is shaping up to look like?”
“Are the numbers good?”
“Who has the best shots on goal as of today?”
They rattled off questions so fast I couldn’t follow. Instead, I stood there, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. This was so not my scene. My heart raced so hard I was certain it would bust out of my chest any second.
Mason nudged me from behind. “Talk, Pepper,” he whispered.
“I…uh…” Damn it. This was why I chose a profession totally out of the spotlight.
Clearly, you were wrong.
Why did they care?
“Are you and Mason back together? Do your fathers know?”
“Mason, are you here about that rumored trade?”
“Do you have any comment on the speculation that you’re too young for this position?” Another one asked. “That you were handed the job because of who your father is and that the Sharks are risking the season?”
“What the hell?” Eric’s strong voice snapped from behind me.
Mason umphed when Eric pushed him out of the way.
“Come on,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“Gentry!”
“Gentry!”
The reporters called his name, but he simply shook his head and pushed us through the crowd like a bouncer.
“Get in,” he said, holding the door of his truck open for me and helping me inside. He slammed the door and two seconds later he was behind the wheel, rushing us out of the parking lot like the paps may be following us.
I glanced over my shoulder to be sure they weren’t.
Of course, they aren’t.
I wasn’t that important.
Gentry was, though, as one of the Sharks’ up-and-coming players and with all the blocks he’d had this season alone. His contract would be huge when he re-signed.
“Thanks,” I said once my heart had de-lodged itself from my throat.
“You know me,” he said, his tone light. “Hero.”
I laughed, the action releasing the tension in my shoulders. “Iron Man.”
“I’m starting to get used to that.”
I grinned at him, taking the moment to appreciate how he looked behind the wheel. Freshly showered, his hair still damp, but tied in a knot at the back of his head, the muscles in his arms and legs no doubt sore from practice.
Those thick muscles he’d draped me across to hide me in the private viewing room.
The way his hand had been gentle yet possessive when grabbing my rear.
The grin melted off my face and I jerked back into my seat, staring straight ahead.
We hadn’t been alone together since.
And now I was in his truck, heading toward my apartment.
“Um…” God, why couldn’t I have Ivy’s ability to speak? To have a conversation under any circumstances. To be confident and cool as opposed to fumbly and awkward.
“I finally got that part,” he said, filling in my obvious fail.
“Oh,” I said. Brilliant.
“I figured you would’ve stayed later after practice. I was going to try to catch you.”
“I didn’t realize,” I said, wringing my hands in my lap.
“What were you doing with Mason?”
“What?”
He turned onto my street, sparing me a look. “You two looked like you had walked out together. Was he supposed to give you a ride home?”
“Ugh, no,” I said. Was he jealous? Or simply
curious because of the job Dad had given him. “He dragged me out there.”
“You’re joking.”
“No,” I said as Eric parked in what was quickly becoming his spot outside my apartment. “Mason has always been a fan of that stuff. Any way he can get noticed. Or be seen with me or Dad.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s fine. I was just…taken off guard.”
Again.
And I shouldn’t have been. I knew what I was getting when I signed on to an NHL team.
“I didn’t think they’d be interested in me so soon. If they even were at all.”
Eric chuckled. “Of course, they’re interested in you,” he said as he got out of the truck. I hopped out before he could come open the door for me which earned me a chiding glare.
“What?” I said, smiling. “I’m completely capable of opening my own doors.”
“That’s not the point, Pepper.” He arched a brow at me as he reached in the back of his truck and grabbed his trusty toolbox plus another cardboard box.
“Then what is the point, Iron Man?”
He shook his head. “Respect. Appreciation—”
“Hero things,” I cut him off, teasing him. He motioned for me to open my garage, and I obeyed.
“You act like you’ve never been around a gentleman before.” He popped the hood of my car and rolled up the sleeves of his grey thermal.
“You weren’t very gentlemanly when you had me pinned against the private viewing room’s wall.” The words blurted from my mouth and I bit down on my tongue, a flush heating my cheeks.
His eyes snapped up to mine from where he bent over my engine, the searing look only making my skin flush hotter. He held my gaze, those green eyes churning as if he was right back in that room, my legs wrapped around his hips, our tongues dancing, fire-crackling—
“It was just a kiss,” he said, dumping a bucket of ice-cold water all over the flames in my core. “No big deal,” he continued. “Right?”
My lips fell apart, shock and ice and anger swirling inside me and stealing any retort I may have had.
So, naturally, I snorted instead.
Brilliant.
“What?” He asked, no longer looking at me but focusing on my car. “You said it yourself, we’re just friends. No chemistry.”
He’s really going to act like that kiss wasn’t world-shaking?
Maybe it wasn’t for him.
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling smaller than Antman.
“I did,” I said, clearing my throat. “And I meant it. You’re right,” I continued, finding my voice. “It wasn’t a big deal at all. I was simply pointing out that your hero-antics only go so far.”
“I’m not following.” He glanced up at me.
There.
Something sparked behind his eyes.
Something that suggested our kiss wasn’t nothing.
Or maybe I was seeing what I wanted.
“I mean,” I said, forcing myself to respond. Channeling Ivy’s boldness, I walked a little closer, until he unfolded himself from my engine and stood, never breaking our gaze. “That when it comes down to it, you may be a hero by day, but you’re a villain after dark.”
His lips popped open, but no words came.
I smirked, loving the shock that crossed his features.
“I’m going to make us some food.” I nodded toward my car. “Come in when you’re done.”
I spun around before I could lose my composure, and walked to my front door. I couldn’t resist a look over my shoulder as I opened it. Eric’s eyes were still on me, and they were hotter than ever.
There.
Chew on that, Iron Man.
Chapter 7
Eric
“Hey, Coach, you want to see me?” I asked, leaning into Coach’s doorway. He’d asked to see me before practice today, which meant I was here a full hour early.
“Yeah, Gentry. Come on in and have a seat.” He gestured to the armchair in front of his long mahogany desk. His office was one of the few in the rink with a window, letting the murky Seattle sunlight in.
Sometimes practice felt like a casino in Las Vegas. You never quite knew what time it was until you were off the ice. I could lose myself for hours in the rhythm, the motion, the game. Even when I looked at my watch after practice, time always felt relative until I saw the sun.
I settled into the armchair and leaned back, trying to look more relaxed than I felt. Not that my job was on the chopping block...unless he somehow knew about Pepper. In that case, all bets were off. It didn’t matter that my stats were out of this world for the season, I knew he’d boot me if he knew what I’d been doing with his daughter during the Halloween party.
“I need to talk to you about Davis,” Coach said leaning forward on his forearms.
“What about him?” Maybe he wasn’t the best goalie, but he was my only backup.
“He’s getting up there in age. Not to mention that he’s never been a starter, and with you in goal he’s never going to be one.” Coach shook his head. “It’s not that I want to let him go, because I don’t. But it’s time to start looking at our options. Bringing in a more experienced goalie to be your backup is one way to go. Or moving someone up from the farm team with better stats than what Davis is putting up this year. Our last option is bringing in a rookie, or trade.”
Fuck. I liked routine, and they were about to mess mine all up.
“I haven’t needed a backup all season. At least not for games. What about leaving Davis on the roster until the end of the season and then making this decision?” Bringing someone new in would only shift the chemistry on the team, and there was no telling if that will be for good or bad.
“We’ve thought about that too, and it’s a viable option. However, I wanted to let you know that I would be out scouting over the week of Thanksgiving. I didn’t want you seeing something and assuming your job was in danger.”
He was right. Hearing from any of the major sports news sites that he was out scouting would have made me worry. And yeah, my numbers were great, at least according to Pepper, and while those stats made me one of the best goalies in the NHL, I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I was the best. Not yet, at least.
“I don’t like losing Davis. I think he’s a solid goalie. But, I understand you need to protect the team. Does he know you’ll be out scouting?”
Coach shook his head. “No. I’m going to have a talk with him later today. You’re a hell of a goalie, Gentry, but even you can’t guarantee me that you won’t get injured. Things happen, and I have to make sure we have someone ready to step in if the worst happens.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that this is a contract negotiation year, does it?” I teased. I wanted to stay a Shark; it was the closest team to my parents. But I also knew that if contract time came and I didn’t get an offer, another team would pick me up.
But another team wouldn’t have Pepper.
Shit. When had I started thinking like that? Not that I was against making career decisions for the right woman. Watching the strength of my parent’s marriage had taught me there was nothing more important than your partner, once you found her. But that loan kiss was hardly enough to declare that we were soul mates. Hell, she’d even agreed that we had no chemistry when I teased her the other day.
“Hell no. You’ll be a Shark for life if I’ve anything to say about it.” He gave me that paternal nod that told me he was proud not only of my accomplishments but what he had created.
“But that call always goes to the owners, doesn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t be too worried. They see the same numbers I do. We’ve never had a goalie with this much promise, let alone already be putting the kind of numbers up that you do so early in your career.”
“Thank you—”
I was interrupted by the door swinging open behind me and turned to see Pepper storming in. The red had already washed out of her hair, but now the tips were purple, the sweet color at odds with the
fire in her eyes. She was pissed.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with anyone,” she snapped at her dad.
His eyebrows rose and he blinked a few times before responding.
“Gentry and I were just finishing up.”
I was already halfway out of my chair. “I’ll get going so you two can discuss… whatever it is that’s on her mind.” I gave Coach a nod and made my way past Pepper. I wanted to ask if she was okay, but her temperament implied there was zero chance she was. When she didn’t so much as meet my eyes, I walked out of the office.
“Did you seriously send me an email that I would be on my own for Thanksgiving?” She demanded.
You need to leave. But I couldn’t. My feet were cemented to the industrial-grade carpet outside Coach’s office, and I unabashedly eavesdropped as I leaned against the wall next to the door. I had to know that she was all right.
“Pepper, don’t be dramatic. It’s a simple scouting trip, and I’ll be home by Sunday.” His temper hadn’t risen to the level of hers, at least not by the cool, collected tone of his voice that told me this wasn’t the first time they’d had a conversation like this.
“Home by Sunday means that we are on our own, as usual. Dad, I thought we agreed to spend more time as a family now that we were back from college. But the first major holiday we have, you’re running off to scout new players.” Damn, I hated the hurt in her voice. Pissed, I could deal with, but the hurt sliced open a part of my soul that couldn’t stand to see her bleed.
“We did agree to spend more time as a family. You girls have been gone for four and a half years. I guess I just got used to doing whatever the team needed. I’m sorry. You’re right.”
I heard her sigh from what had to be a dozen feet away.
“Good. Okay. Then don’t worry about a thing. I’m not letting Ivy touch the turkey, and will be ready for you by four PM. Unless you want to come sooner, maybe watch the parade on TV?”
“No honey, you misunderstood. I am sorry that I have to go, but I do have to go. This is my job, and it doesn’t matter how much I’d like to spend this holiday with you, I simply can’t.”
Unable to hear anymore, I left. The last thing I needed was Pepper seeing me eavesdrop. I had no right to listen in on her private family matters, and yet I couldn’t help myself.
Blocker (Seattle Sharks Book 5) Page 7