Dump and Chase: Nashville Assassins: Next Generation

by Toni Aleo

“Shut up, Nico!” she yells, pulling him down into his chair. “Just go, Aiden.”

  I look over at Shelli, but she won’t look at me. “Fine.”

  I sulk out, my body vibrating with anger. I don’t get how she can jump from me to someone else so damn quickly. I can’t even think of another female right now, yet she’s out fucking some dude like she didn’t just have sex with me and rearrange my house! Talk about mixed signals.

  Once I’m outside, I take out my phone, shaking as I dial Asher’s number. When he answers, I say, “She’s here with someone else.”

  “Okay? What did you think would happen when you basically made her feel like shit for doing something nice for you?”

  “It was too much at once.”

  “Yeah, but girls are girls. She’s always been Miss Clean Up. Don’t you remember when she was like nine and started that cleaning business to make money for her singing lessons? She likes that kind of stuff.”

  “It’s weird.”

  “Sure, but she was trying to do something polite. Was she a little overzealous? Sure, but that’s Shelli. She’s a big personality with a huge heart.”

  I cover my face. “What the fuck do I do?”

  “Sulk?”

  “I should go back in there. Force—”

  “Aiden. No. Give her some space.”

  “I don’t want her with someone else.”

  “Should have thought about that before you basically told her she was just a fuck.”

  I cover my face. “I didn’t say that!”

  “Dude, you did.”

  I shake my head as I close my eyes. “What do I do?”

  “Give her time and then call her.”

  “And say what?”

  “You’re a sorry bastard,” he says, and I hear the annoyance in his voice. “You can’t treat people like that and expect them to want to be with you.”

  “She deserves more than that.”

  “Yeah, so grow up and be that—or let her go.”

  “Wow. That was a very Dad thing to say.”

  “Well, I learned from the best. So did you. So get your head out of your ass and do right by her, or leave her alone.”

  I swallow hard. “It just all freaks me out.”

  “That’s love—”

  “Whoa. No need to bring that word into this.”

  “You’re pathetic,” he says under his breath. “Relationships are hard. They’re scary, but they can be great. If you really like her, like I assume you do, get over yourself and tell her that.”

  “I should go back in there.”

  “No, you need to go home and sleep it off. I can hear it in your voice. You’re too emotional right now.”

  “I am not.”

  “You are. Go home.”

  Maybe he’s right. I really want to go back in there, demand she talk to me because I want to work this out. I need to apologize, but she probably won’t even hear it.

  Because even though she has a big heart, she can also hold a grudge.

  I FEEL LIKE SHIT.

  I didn’t sleep well. I wasn’t hungry when we went for our pregame meal, and my nap wasn’t good. I feel so fucking off. I wanted to call Shelli so many times last night. I wanted to go to her house, to beg her to listen to me, but I knew it would do no good. She’s stubborn, and I was an asshole. I don’t blame her for being upset, but I sure as hell blame her for moving on to some jackass without even a second thought. I don’t know how she can be so ready to move on after all we’ve been through.

  Probably because you’re a moron, you fucking idiot.

  As I skate around, playing with the puck while I warm up, I keep going over and over again everything that’s happened. I could blame my parents for my poor communication, but truth be told, it’s me. I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling when it comes to anything more than sex. I’ve never had to, and now it’s biting me in the ass. I just want to talk to her. Tell her what is happening inside my head, and maybe she’ll forgive me.

  Or she won’t.

  While it would be for the best if she completely blows me off, I don’t want that.

  I want her.

  The crowd is cheering us on, welcoming us, but I can’t even hear them. I’m too in my head. I shoot mindlessly, and I know this is not good. I can’t play like this. I gotta put all that to the side. It is what it is. I’ll call her after the game and ask her to come over. She’ll say yes or no, and that’s my answer. Right now, I gotta win this game.

  We’re playing the IceCats, and they’re on one hell of a winning streak. Ten games in a row. And they’re a Stanley Cup favorite. But that was before I joined the Assassins. That Cup is ours. I fall to the ice and stretch my hips. When I tuck my leg beneath me to stretch it, I look over to where the IceCats are warming up, and my brows come together. By the bench is that asshole who was with Shelli last night. His goalie helmet is hanging on his head as he laughs with one of the players.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  I feel myself glaring as I watch him move with such confidence. Like the most gorgeous girl known to man just did him real good. My blood starts to boil. I don’t even know if they did anything, but I assume so by that shit-eating grin on his face.

  “BB, why’s your face like that?”

  I look up at Boon and shake my head. “I hate that fucker.”

  He looks to where I am glaring and scoffs. “Nico Merryweather? He’s a great goalie.”

  “He’s a jackass.”

  “Well, tell me truly how you feel,” he teases, and I glare up at him.

  “Pretty sure he had sex with Shelli.”

  He shrugs. “So?”

  “So—” I pause and shake my head. “Fuck it.”

  I get up and head off the ice, needing to clear my head. Once at my locker, I lean my torso on my thighs and close my eyes. I try meditating, and it works for maybe a minute before my anger gets the best of me. I want to go out there and beat that fucker’s ass. What that will do, no clue, but I’ll feel better.

  Who am I kidding? I won’t feel better until I talk to Shelli.

  I try to pay attention to Coach’s talk. I even try to be excited when they call my name for the starting lineup. I try to get in the game, but my gaze is on that bastard in goal. I know him. He’s stolen plenty of my goals, and it only makes me hate him more. He’s a Vezina trophy favorite, for sure, and Shelli smiled at him in the way I want her to smile at only me. He’s basically the scum on my shoes.

  The chip on my shoulder is real, and I find myself slamming my body into everyone with no cares in the world. I play the puck with urgency, but no matter how much I shoot, I don’t score. Merryweather is everywhere. He’s a brick wall, and it’s pissing me off. When I head to the bench, going through the door, Coach smacks my shoulders. “Love the play, the aggression! Keep it up.”

  Oh, I will.

  When my line is called, I rush the zone just as Sinclair passes it up to me. I take the puck into the zone and pass it off to Boon as I crash the net. I’m screening Merryweather, but somehow, he is making blocker saves like I’m not even there. When his stick comes into my back, I hit the ice.

  “Move, fucker.”

  “Kiss my ass,” I say, and I get back into position, closer to him but not in his crease. The goal will come, I know it. Reeves shoots a beauty, and I jump so I don’t block it, but this dude somehow blocks it! But then, it’s back in front of me. Without even turning, I backhand it between his legs.

  Goal.

  “Fuck yes!”

  “Thataway, BB!”

  “Way to be there.”

  “Let’s go!”

  “You’re not shit,” I hear him yell at me as my teammates hug me, tapping me on the head.

  The boys break, ready to go tap gloves with the rest of our team, but I look back at Nico. “That’s why I just scored on your punk ass.”

  He glares at me through his helmet. “And that’s why I fucked your girl.”

  “Holy shit,”
Wes says, his eyes wide.

  Boon presses his hand into my chest. “Come on, BB.”

  But I don’t move. Blood is rushing to my head. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me,” he says, his eyes on me. “And she wanted it. All fucking night long, she rode my dick. She wants me, not you.”

  “That’s enough, boys. Go on, Brooks!” the ref yells, but I feel as if something snaps.

  I drop my stick and throw off my gloves at the same time he does.

  And it’s fucking on.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AIDEN

  I WINCE AS MY TRAINER, Ryan Justice, tapes up the wound under my eye. I had to have it restitched since I busted the first set of stitches during the third period. After my ten-minute major penalty, five for fighting and five for unsportsmanlike behavior, I thought I would get my head in the game, but I didn’t. Hell, I’m still pissed the fuck off. I’m pissed about what Merryweather said, the fact that I believe him, and that he landed two hard hits and all I did was bust his nose.

  “Man, he got you good,” Ryan says, spreading some cooling cream along my jaw.

  I wave him off. “You should see him. Pretty sure I broke his nose.”

  He grins. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a player fight a goalie.”

  “Dafoe vs. Kolzig.”

  He grins. “I mean live. Did you know that they were each the best man at the other’s wedding?”

  I laugh. “Yeah, my dad always told me that when I watched the highlights of the best fights.”

  “Mine too,” he says, knocking fists with me. “But for real. This is totally going in my highlight reel.”

  Not sure if it will make mine. “He’s a dick.”

  “Is that why you chopped him in the groin with your stick?”

  Not my finest moment, and I’m pretty sure a fine will come in the morning, but he smacked me in the arm with his goalie stick.

  “Hey, he hit me first.”

  “Arm, dick. Which one is first?”

  “He has a cup,” I throw back, and he scoffs.

  “I guess so.” He sends me a grin before patting my leg. “You’re good to go.”

  “Great.”

  I hop off the table and send him a wave before I head out of the training room. I’m almost to the locker room doors when a voice stops me.

  Elli Adler.

  Kill me now.

  “Aiden Brooks, what in the world?”

  I let my shoulders fall as I stop in front of her. “I don’t know. He pissed me off. I let him get the best of me.”

  “You know they might suspend you for that hit to the groin.”

  “He hit me in the arm!”

  She rolls her eyes. “It’s an arm! It’s his groin!”

  “He wears a cup!” I complain, and she sets me with a look.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I have no clue. I’m really sorry.”

  “I told you to keep that nose clean. I can’t be playing games without my top center.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  To my surprise, she holds her arms out, and I go into them. She rubs my back, and I feel bad for this. I shouldn’t be going to her for comfort when I treated Shelli the way I did. I bet Elli wouldn’t be hugging me if she knew what happened. Nope, she’d probably be the one hitting me in the groin with a stick. “You seem off. Are you okay?”

  “No, I had a crappy day.”

  She pats my face. “Shelli did too. Maybe we should throw another party.”

  My stomach sinks. “Please don’t.”

  She laughs. “Then don’t fight goalies anymore.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She kisses my temple before pulling my face back. “What in the world did he say?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. It was dumb.”

  She clicks her tongue at me before tapping my nose. “Keep your nose clean.”

  “Trying,” I say, and she hugs me once more.

  “Go home and sleep it off.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  But I know I won’t do that. Not when I need to get ahold of her daughter.

  When I hit the hall, I turn the corner just as Merryweather is coming out of the locker room. His gaze meets mine, and then he shakes his head. “You’re a real dick, you know that?”

  “Says the dude claiming to fuck the girl I want.”

  “If you wanted her, you’d treat her better.”

  I glare. “Fuck you. Want to go again?”

  “You’re not worth it. I don’t even know why she’s so caught up on you. You’re trash.”

  “You don’t even know me!” I yell back, and he laughs.

  “I know a dick when I see one. You watch—she’ll get her head on straight and come back to the one who will treat her right.”

  He taps his hand to his chest, and I raise a brow. “If you’re gonna treat her right, why isn’t she with you?”

  “’Cause she’s caught up on you. I’m patient. I can wait.”

  “Don’t. There is a reason she’s caught up on me.”

  He rolls his eyes. “No clue why. It’s obvious you don’t give a shit about her.”

  “You don’t know shit,” I sneer, and he shakes his head.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Right back at you,” I holler as he heads out the side door.

  His words bother me, though. Did Shelli tell him what I did? Is that what she thinks? Man, I really fucked up. I pull out my phone and dial her number. It goes straight to voice mail, though, and my heart sinks. She isn’t going to talk to me.

  And I can’t blame her one bit.

  WHEN THE ELEVATOR DOORS OPEN, I step out as I tuck my phone back into my pocket. My phone has been ringing off the hook since I left the rink. My mom and dad are hell-bent on talking to me, but I don’t want to talk to them. I only want to talk to one person, but she isn’t answering. It just keeps going to voice mail.

  Take a hint, Brooks. She knows you’re trash.

  I sigh as I pull out my keys. When I look up, though, I’m stunned in place.

  Shelli is leaning on my door.

  I pause midstep as my heart jumps into my throat. Her arms are crossed over her chest, bunching up her Assassins jersey. She’s in a pair of black leggings with thigh-high purple stiletto boots. Her hair is up in a huge bun, and on her face is painted the number six. Her dad’s number. She looks damn perfect.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey.”

  The tension is crackling around us as I take a step forward. “I tried calling you.”

  “My phone is dead. My charger is on your bar.”

  “Oh,” I say as my shoulders drop. “So, that’s why you’re here?”

  She shakes her head. “As much as I should say yes…no, it’s not the only reason.”

  I move past her, unlocking the door. “Come in.”

  “Thanks,” she says, walking by me, and I can’t help but check out her perfect ass. Her heels click on my hardwood as she goes toward my bar and plugs in her phone. She pulls out the barstool and sits down, crossing those naughty boots over each other before setting me with a look. “Did you fight him because of me?”

  I lay my phone and keys beside her phone as I nod. “I did.”

  She shakes her head. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is I’m sorry.”

  I try to meet her gaze as she looks away. “For what?”

  “Everything.”

  She presses her glossed-up lips together as she laces her fingers. “You aren’t a fighter. You’re a scorer. What the hell got into you? I mean, shit, Aiden, look at your face. He got you good.”

  She reaches out, touching my jaw and wincing. I lean into her hand, my eyes meeting hers. “Figure since I don’t have tattoos, it would help my man-bun look.”

  I was hoping she would at least smile, but she doesn’t as her hand drops. “Aiden, come on. Stop being cute.”

  I take a step
toward her, moving my hand onto hers. “He said he fucked you, and I went crazy.”

  She rolls her eyes as she moves her hand from underneath mine, crossing her arms again. “Have we slept together? Yes, but we stopped sleeping together before Christmas. It was a short thing, nothing big. He wanted more. I didn’t.”

  I look down at the floor as I nod. “So, you didn’t sleep with him last night?”

  “No, Aiden. Not that it matters. You made that very clear.”

  “But it does.”

  Our eyes meet as she shakes her head. “Funny way of showing it.”

  “Shelli, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to say what I did or even imply it.”

  “I’ve heard this apology before,” she says matter-of-factly, her gaze locked with mine. “I honestly don’t know why I am here. I shouldn’t be. You’ve practically screamed in my face that I don’t mean shit to you.”

  “You do,” I stress, taking her hand in mine. “Shell, I promise you do.”

  “Then why are you such a dick about stuff? Yeah, maybe it was a little weird I helped with the house, but you didn’t have to say I was just a fuck. My mom says I romanticized our situation and rushed into it, and maybe I did. But I thought—”

  I cover her lips with my fingers. “I didn’t mean to say that. I just got really overwhelmed. It was all so much at once, and it made me uncomfortable. These feelings… I don’t know what to do with them,” I say, moving my hands along my chest.

  She shakes her head. “I’m unafraid to make you uncomfortable, Aiden. I want you to feel things only I can make you feel because you do the same to me.”

  “Well, you’re doing a great job.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, and by the way her face scrunches up, I know it wasn’t the right thing to say.

  “You know what? You were better off as a crush.”

  “No, don’t say that.”

  “Oh, I’m not done!” she yells, getting up, her chin tipped up at me. “I wish I hadn’t ever met you because, damn it, you’re too hard to forget.” She’s frantic and angry. Gorgeous.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  “Aiden! Really?”

  “You want me to say what I think? I think you’re beautiful.”

  “No, you don’t even know what you want, and it drives me crazy!”