Dump and Chase: Nashville Assassins: Next Generation

by Toni Aleo

  Mmm…

  I fall back on my bed just as my mom yells my name. I cover my face as I holler back, but when she doesn’t answer, I know she wants me to come there. I get up and head down the hall. While the house is quiet, it’s a madhouse outside. My brothers are so damn loud. I’m almost into the living room when a hand comes around my bicep and pulls me into the bathroom. Next thing I know, I’m looking up into one hell of a gorgeous face.

  “We need to talk,” Aiden demands. “Like A-S-A-P.”

  “Who actually says ‘A-S-A-P’? No one. That’s weird. Just say ‘asap.’ It rolls right off the tongue.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  “Fine. What’s wrong?” I ask. I try to back up, but the half bath is just that, half the size, and Aiden is huge. He takes up most of the room, and I didn’t realize how big he was when I was on top of him. He’s wearing a button-up that is straining at his shoulders. The shirt is tucked into his dress pants in a sophisticated way, and even though he smells like eggs, he’s still hot as fuck. His long hair is wavy along his shoulders, and I want so bad to run my fingers through it. I didn’t do that when we were together. I was too busy trying to devour him.

  “You know about what.”

  “Sorry, I don’t.”

  “You’re going to make me say it.”

  “Sure,” I say simply. “You’re the one who has the issue.”

  “You lied to me,” he says, holding his finger up at me.

  I push it away as I pull in my brows. “I didn’t.”

  “You said your name was Grace.”

  “It is.”

  “It’s your fucking middle name.”

  “Still my name.”

  “You knew hooking up wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “I didn’t know any such thing. You’re the one who jumped me like a cat in heat.”

  His face fills with horror as he holds up his hands. “Because I thought you were there for sex!”

  I shrug just as my name is called once more. “Maybe I wasn’t, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t want it.”

  I pull the door open, but he slams it shut with his hand, glaring down at me. “You can’t tell anyone.”

  I shrug. “Already have.”

  He widens his eyes. “Why? Who? Do your parents know?”

  “Are you okay? You look stressed.”

  “Shelli, stop playing around. This is serious.”

  “It’s nothing. We fucked, and that’s that. It’s over. Relax.” I pull at the door, but he shuts it once more.

  “We need to talk this out. We need to make sure we have our bases covered.”

  “Lord, was that your first time? Excuse me, my mom is calling me.”

  I yank the door open, and this time, he lets me go. My heart is in my throat, and I can’t believe I just spoke to him like that. I was so aloof. Not the least bit affected by him.

  I think I might pass out.

  Before doing so, though, I find my mom and Fallon waiting for me in the living room when I enter. “Hey, sorry, I was in my room on the phone,” I lie, but Fallon waves me off.

  “I have an offer for you.”

  “I love offers,” I say with a grin, and behind me, I feel Aiden coming into the room. Fallon’s face lights up at the sight of her pride and joy, while my mom looks hesitant. I don’t know what her meeting was about, but I don’t think it went well. “What’s up?”

  “Well, your mom says you need a job.”

  I scrunch up my face as I look back at my mom. “I do?”

  “You know the rules. You go to school or work when you’re under my roof.”

  Stupid rules. I don’t have to work. I’m good. “I couldn’t sign up for school. I waited too long.”

  “Exactly, so I guess you’d better get a job.”

  “Wow. Maybe I should move out like Posey said.”

  Mom gives me a dry look as Fallon laughs.

  “But maybe I should know the job first.”

  Fallon grins. “I think you’ll love it. We need a pianist for our bar. I figured since you’re home, a fantastic singer and piano player, it would be great for you.”

  It would. It would be fun too. I love playing, and I heard that Fallon’s new wine bar is pretty amazing. She sold her space in the arena to branch out, and she’s doing great with it while running her winery too. She’s a busy lady. “Yeah, I would love that, actually.”

  “Great. Can you start tomorrow?”

  “Yeah… Wow, thanks.”

  “Of course. Come in at five so we can discuss everything.”

  “Sounds good,” I say, and then I hug her tightly. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  Mom gives me a look. “Not moving out, then?”

  “Not at the moment,” I say as she wraps her arm around my neck. I hug her tightly, just as Fallon does the same to Aiden. The only difference is Aiden swallows his mom in his arms, while my mom and I are basically the same height.

  Maybe I am pathetic, because I am super jealous of Fallon being held by Aiden.

  “Isn’t it wonderful having them home?”

  “So wonderful,” Fallon agrees. “Even though I think he’s gonna find a place and move out as soon as possible. The girls scare him.”

  Aiden tries to smile, but he looks stricken. “They’re fine, but I’d like my own place.”

  So his call girls can come over. I roll my eyes, and he narrows his at me.

  “I hear you. I thought she’d want her own place, but she misses us,” Mom says, kissing my cheek.

  “I’ve been gone for, like, ever. I want to be home.”

  Mom beams. “She’s a saint. My sweet girl.”

  I don’t miss the way Aiden scoffs a bit as he stares at me. Fire flares inside me. He knows how un-saint-like I can be, and his eyes are full of irritation and anger. I know he wants to speak to me, but I have nothing to say. He didn’t know who I was. And while I knew exactly who he was, I don’t have anything to say to him at this point. He didn’t want me; I was just there, and that’s fine. I know he is stressing and probably scared shitless I’ll tell my parents. But the thing is, I’m an adult. I sleep with who I want, and I don’t feel even the least bit sorry for his anxiety. Maybe next time, he’ll find out who he is sleeping with first.

  Maybe I hope it will be me again…but maybe I don’t.

  One thing is for sure. Aiden Brooks is nothing to me.

  Another thing that is for sure… That is a total fucking lie.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AIDEN

  I KNOW Luther Arena like the back of my hand.

  I have been roaming these halls and hiding in lockers since I was six. It was awesome. I broke my fifth bone here after falling off the Zamboni. I broke my first stick and I think also a skate blade. I can’t remember, but I love this place. It was honestly a second home for me. Man, if it isn’t great to be back. I thought when Elli demanded I come home so quickly, I would be joining practice. But unfortunately, everyone has been on break until today. She brought me in to meet with her, the coaching staff, and then the personal trainers. While it wasn’t really what I wanted, it’s been a great couple days.

  When I’m not home with my family.

  My sisters are on a whole other level. I now truly understand what Asher meant when he said he had to get out of there. Those two girls fight like cats and dogs and are ruthless. Emery set fire to Stella’s newest makeup palette because Stella ate the last bowl of Emery’s favorite cereal. I wish I were lying, but I’m not. Nope, I watched my youngest sister take my other sister’s makeup, put it on the grill, squirt it with lighter fluid, and set fire to it.

  I’m gonna start to pray for the dude who decides Emery is the one he wants to be with, because she’s gonna kill that guy if he does her wrong.

  Emery is crazy, while Stella is just loud. She isn’t violent like Emery, but she cries about everything. My mom isn’t fair, my dad doesn’t listen to her, Emery is trying to kill her, and apparently my presenc
e there is no longer adorable. She hates me too. Hormones, man, they’re a bitch in my house.

  Then my parents are on my last nerve too. They’ve insisted on going condo shopping with me, but they hate everything I look at because it’s not close to them. That’s the point. I want to visit, but I don’t want to be close enough that it’s a daily thing. I love my mom, but if she bitches one more time about how I eat, I might scream. My dad is so engrossed in his audiobooks, he doesn’t even hear the madness.

  He may be a genius.

  Because of all that, I am more than ready to go to practice. I’m actually excited to meet my team and get started. It’s a great group already, and I hope I fit in just right. I want to add to the team. I want to make Elli proud. My family. I want to be proud of myself. I haven’t felt like that in a while.

  As I stand in front of my new locker with my name on it, I smile while I dress. The greats have all been in this room. My dad, Shea Adler, Karson King, Jordie Thomas, Phillip Anderson, and Tate Odder, to name a few. Tate, who is also my uncle, is the goalie coach here. Usually, the guys who retire from the team find their way back into the organization. It really is one big old family.

  Across from me is my captain, Jayden Sinclair. He went to my alma mater, as did all his brothers. The Sinclair brothers are household names in the NHL. There are three of them, and they were all drafted one right after the other. Jayden is a hell of a player, strong, and smart. I’m excited to play with him rather than against him.

  Beside him is Markus Reeves, one of the grittiest players I’ve ever met. He knocked me on my ass last year, and I swear I still have a bruise. The most badass goalie in the league, Jensen Monroe, dresses four spots down from me. He was actually the first to greet me, along with Vaughn Johansson. Man, I hope I get to play on his line. He has one sick-ass shot. The resident older guy, Benji Paxton, sits beside me, and he’s been real nice.

  “You need anything, bud?”

  I shake my head. “No, thanks.”

  “I played with your dad. It’s kind of surreal to play with you too.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, talk about trippy.”

  His laughter is refreshing. He’s the oldest guy on the ice, but the dude is a beast. Says it’s the way he eats that keeps him playing. He probably eats that no-carb shit my mom is trying to preach. As I look around the room, there are a lot of faces I’ve played against, and it’s weird to be on their side now. I didn’t realize I was nervous until I started to dress. What if these guys think I’m a dick? I’m actually a delight, I feel. Well, unless you ask Shelli Adler.

  I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m an absolute twatwaffle. Damn it, I am so pissed at her. She acted all blasé with me in the bathroom. She didn’t even seem at all interested in me or even affected by me like I was her. It was taking everything in me not to capture that rebellious tip of her chin and kiss the shit out of her. I don’t know what the hell her deal is, but I need to know she isn’t going to tell anyone. And also, I want to know what the hell changed from that night to now. I know I was good, and she was good, so why wouldn’t she want me now? Not that I want her to want me, but it would be nice to know she’s craving me like I am her.

  I need help.

  People start to file out as I tape up my socks. The guy beside me, Wesley McMillan, taps my skate with his stick. “Nice to have ya, Brooks.”

  His voice is thick with an accent I don’t recognize, but I send him a grin nonetheless. “Thanks, bro.”

  He heads out, and once I am done, I rush out so I’m not the last. That would be weird. Once I hit the ice, though, I’m not ready for the emotion that comes over me. I have watched games in this arena my whole life. I have sat in our box and watched my dad raise the Cup above his head three times, the last time being his last game. I swallow hard, the lump in my throat a little overwhelming as I look up to see the number twenty-two jersey hanging in the rafters. I’ve been number twenty-two my whole life, just like my dad, but since his number has been retired with the Assassins, I went with twenty-three. A new number for a new start.

  For my start.

  As a Nashville Assassin.

  Wow. What a feeling.

  I take a deep breath as I start around the rink, warming up with the rest of the guys. Once everyone has hit the ice, we take a knee as Coach Townes blows his whistle. He’s the fourth coach of the Assassins franchise. Elli pulled him up from our AHL team, and so far, things are going pretty damn good. He’s young and he’s smart. He wants to make things happen, and I’ve admired his game from afar. Now I get to play with him.

  “Welcome back, boys,” he says in his deep tenor. “First off, I want to welcome our newest center, Aiden Brooks, to the team.”

  I hold up my hand in an awkward, dorky wave and say, “Thanks. Excited to be here.”

  “Us too,” he says with a nod. “Do you have a nickname you go by?”

  Before I can even speak, Tate decides this is the perfect time to open his mouth. “Boogie Butt. His aunt has been calling him that since he was a baby.”

  Kill me now.

  The guys all chuckle as I silently die inside. “Thanks, Tate.”

  Tate laughs, and Coach nods. “All right, well, I’m a thirty-one-year-old man, and I will not be calling you that.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “So to celebrate Boogie Butt’s return,” he says, pausing for the laughter. And I can’t help it, I chuckle along. “Let’s do some drills. BB, we’re gonna try you out with McMillan and Johansson. Let’s go.”

  BB. Boogie Butt. Fan-fucking-tastic.

  Once Coach blows the whistle, everyone is up and getting into position. I skate to my line and watch as the center before me gets the puck and passes it to his right before the right winger sends it to the left wing for the shot if he has the opening. Once it’s our turn, I start off passing it to my left since I’m left-handed. Johansson passes it across the ice to McMillan, who acts as if he is going to take the shot but instead sends it back to me for a beaut of a goal. A simple tap in that is pure perfection.

  In this moment, I know for a fact, I’m home.

  “I LIVE OFF MUSIC ROW.”

  “Really? Where?” I ask as I wash my balls.

  Wes is in the shower next to mine as he says, “It’s closer to the Gulch. Broadstone?”

  “I haven’t looked that way. My mom is trying to keep me close to her.”

  He laughs. He’s a shorter dude, but he packs a punch. He ran into me playfully when I scored, and he knocked me over. Like, clear on my ass. He reminds me of one of those GQ models with the perfect hair, even after wearing a damn helmet. “My mom did the same, but then I got traded and made her stay back in Montreal.”

  “Nice,” I say. Though, I’d never ask my mom to stay back. I just wish she’d give me a bit of space…and carbs. I need some bread, damn it. “Can I come check out your place?”

  “Yeah, I think there is a space above me, like directly above me, that is coming up for sale in a week or two.”

  “Really?” I ask, but then that means that I have to be a part of the Stella and Emery madhouse for a bit longer. Plus, I’ll need to get a fridge for my room for beer and ice cream. I can hang if I get the fridge.

  “Yeah, Willy’s girl is moving in with him, and she lives there,” he says, pointing to one of our forwards, William Bacioretty.

  Willy turns, looking over his shoulder as he washes his pits. “Yeah, she’ll be out tomorrow, I think. You can come check it out for sure. I didn’t know you were looking for a place, or I’d have offered. My girl is nervous about selling.”

  “For sure, dude. If I can come check it out today, that would be awesome.”

  “Yeah, I’ll call Caitlin after I get out.”

  “Appreciate it.”

  Wes nods. “Hey, come by my place afterward. We’ll have a beer.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” I say as I shut off the shower. I head out to get dressed just as Wes and Willy do. We trade numbers once we’re dressed,
and I’m pretty happy when I have an appointment to do a walk-through with Caitlin and Willy later that afternoon. All goes well, and I could be out of the no-carb zoo, also known as the Brooks household, in no time.

  I pull out my phone to text my mom when Wes says, “You dating anyone?”

  I shake my head as my mom asks what time she needs to be there. “Nope. Got a lead for me?”

  He smiles. “The pickings are great here. Lots of honey-sweet females.”

  “Just what I want—” Before I can even finish, Wes pulls me to the side with more force than I expected. I glance up to see what the hell is going on, and I find myself looking down into a familiar pair of sparkling blue eyes that have been haunting me for the last four days. Her hair is in a high ponytail, and by God, she’s only wearing a black sports bra and the tightest yoga pants I have ever seen in my life. Not much of her stomach shows, just enough to remind me that my tongue has been in her belly button. I suspect she just got done working out, because her face is blotchy with red spots.

  She looks fucking delicious.

  “Sorry about that, Shelli,” Wes says with a grin. “He’s new.”

  “No problem,” she says as she goes to walk around me, but I step in her way.

  “I need to speak to you.”

  Wes’s brows pull in, and I point my finger to him. “I’ll call you.”

  “See ya.”

  But Shelli is walking past me. “Don’t have anything to say.”

  I step in front of her once more. “No, seriously, we need to speak.”

  She looks me up and down, and she seems bored. “If I let you speak, will you leave me be?”

  I should very much leave her be, and I will—once we talk. “Yes.”

  “Great,” she says, and then she opens a door to her left. When the door shuts behind her, I realize it was the door to the hallway that leads to the ice. I forgot how all the rooms lead to one another. She leans on the wall, pulling her leg up under her as she crosses her arms, making her breasts even plumper than before. I don’t get why she is acting as if she doesn’t have time to talk to me. I’ve known this girl her whole life, and she’s always been pleasant. Where is all this hostility coming from? We had a damn good time.