“That’s my dad for you.” She chuckles to herself as if there’s a private joke behind her name. “How about you two handsome guys follow me, and I’ll get you those nachos.”
“Yay! Thank you!” Rico latches onto her by wrapping his arms around her stomach.
“Cute kid you have here,” she says, staring at me while patting Rico on the back.
“I don’t know about all that,” I deadpan. “Rico is a pain. You can keep him if you’d like.”
“Hey!” Rico finally unhooks himself from Regan to give me the stink eye. “Take it back.”
Hooking my arm around Rico, I walk down the long hallway next to Regan. “I’m kidding. I’d never give my buddy away.”
The crowds are getting heavier as we pass, and the buzzer still hasn’t sounded, which means we have time to get back to our seats. I hope. But I’m also unsure if I want to go back now that I have Regan’s company. After we loop around the corner, she stops in front of a different concession stand.
“Hey, Joe.” Regan waves to a balding man behind the counter. “Can I get two nachos and two Cokes for my new friends?” She winks at me as she says this.
She has a certain ease about her that reminds me of Charlie. You can be yourself around girls like them. Except, for some reason, she makes me nervous. I think of asking her out as we wait for Joe to fill the plastic containers with cheese. What if she shoots me down? Not that it would matter. It’s not like we would see each other again otherwise.
Joe hands the nachos to Rico first, and then, the other set to me. Regan takes a chip from my tray, dunks it into the cheese, and shoves it into her mouth with her eyes trained on me. We share a moment. With me focusing on her mouth as she chews, it takes me a second before I realize Joe is trying to get my attention to hand me a bottle of soda.
“Thank you.” I lift the soda from the counter and hold it up in acknowledgment. Then, I turn to Regan, who has stolen another chip from me. “How is it that you have the hook up around here?”
“I know a guy who knows a guy,” she deadpans, laughing to herself.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
I’m usually not so forward with women. My question surprises me just as much as Regan. I like to check women out, make sure they’re not crazy or up to Charlie’s standards before I ask them out on a date. But I feel at ease with Regan. Plus, she didn't even know me and went out of her way to get Rico food. The least I can do is return the favor and buy her a decent meal that doesn’t consist of processed cheese and corn chips.
“Umm…nothing much. Are you asking me out, Jameson O’Connor?” She inches closer to me and the tension between us is burning like a lit match.
“Yeah, I suppose I am asking you out. So, what do you say? Wanna have dinner with me on Saturday night?”
She holds her finger up to her lip, pretending to think it over. The wait is killing me. Say yes already.
Before she can respond, I hear Alex call out, “There’s the man-of-honor. We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
I was so caught up in Regan and getting Rico his nachos that I’d forgotten about the game. How is it I didn’t even notice the buzzer go off, only the people tearing through the halls in a rush to get out of the building?
“I’m right here,” I say, annoyed.
Our entire wedding party follows behind Alex, including Charlie, who has a strange look on her face. She seems confused, but I have no idea why.
Coming up next to me, Charlie does something I least expect when she locks onto Regan. She hugs her as if they have known each other for years.
“How are you?” Charlie asks, taking a step back from Regan and stands next to me. “It’s been months, maybe even longer, since I last saw you. Is your dad keeping you busy?”
Regan shrugs. “You know my dad.”
Alex glances at me, confused, and then, back to Regan. “What are you doing out here with Jamie? How do you guys know each other?”
“We don’t,” I interject before she can respond. “They were out of nachos at the concession by our seats, and Regan helped us out.”
“Mind your own business, Parker.” Regan’s tone is playful. She speaks to him as if she’s good friends with Alex.
Who is this chick?
“Oh, shit,” Tyler says, stealing the show with his dominance as he moves through the crowd to get to Regan. “Are you gonna tell your dad we’re up to no good again?”
Regan blushes, looking away from him and to me. She holds my gaze for a few seconds before rolling her eyes at Tyler. “Will you ever let me live that down, Kane? I was a kid back then.”
“You’re not a kid anymore,” he jokes, and that earns him an elbow to the biceps from Regan.
“Shut it, Kane, before I shut it for you.”
After Carter and Sydney exchange their pleasantries with Regan, I start to feel left out of this conversation. Everyone seems to know Regan except for me. And she never had the chance to answer my question.
“So, you’re with Coach,” Regan says to me. “I had no idea.”
“Why? Would you have treated me differently if I you had known?”
She nods. “Yes, actually, I would have.”
“Meaning?” I ask, hoping she will elaborate.
“I was about to say yes…but now…” Her voice trails off, leaving me even more confused by the conversation. What has changed since Charlie and the gang had to show up and ruin everything?
“I don’t mix business with pleasure. Sorry.” She gives my arm a pity stroke that sets my skin on fire. Why is she sorry?
Regan flashes a tiny small before saying her goodbye’s to everyone in our group, including me. “It was nice meeting you, Jameson.”
“Wait.” I grab her forearm as she walks away. “You never answered my question.”
A sullen expression crosses her face. “Under different circumstances, I would’ve said yes to you in a heartbeat.”
“What circumstances?” I ask, bewildered.
“I can’t get mixed up in my father’s business. Sorry. It’s just not a good idea. But I’m glad we met. Come by and see me sometime. I'll make sure you have nachos for the next game.”
Without giving me time to interject, she waves over her shoulder at me, falling in line with the rest of the crowd, as she strolls down the hall.
Charlie leans close and whispers into my ear. “Did you ask Regan out?”
I frown. “Yeah, but she shot me down.”
“She doesn’t date athletes.”
“But I’m not an athlete,” I counter.
Charlie shrugs. “Yeah, but I bet she thinks you are one just by association with me.”
“Why would she think I’m one of your players?” I stare down at my clothes. I’m built, but nowhere near the kind of conditioning that screams professional athlete.
“You’re in much better shape that you realize, Jamie.” She acts nonchalant. “It’s probably for the best. If things didn’t work out for you, it would mess up my relationship with her father, and I can’t have that.”
“Who is her father?” The question of the hour.
“Mike Turner.”
It takes me a minute to recognize the name. “Her dad is the Mike Turner?”
“The one and only,” Charlotte says.
I scratch the stubble on my chin, trying to process the news. Mike Turner is the general manager for the Flyers, a hall of famer, and one of the most legendary hockey players to step onto the ice. “I guess that makes her like hockey royalty.”
Charlie nods. “Yup, which also makes her off-limits to you.”
A challenge. Knowing that Charlie wants me to stay away only makes me want to pursue Regan even more. I also want to change her mind and make Regan see that I am not like my friends.
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Parker
If you haven’t read the rest of the Face-Off Series, keep reading for a free excerpt of Parker, the first b
ook in the series.
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Meet Alex Parker, the NHL’s most notorious bad boy both on and off the ice.
As the top defenseman in the league, Alex was on a winning team, so close to the Stanley Cup, before he hooked up with the wrong puck bunny—the team owner’s granddaughter. Oops! So, they sent him packing to Philadelphia to play for the Flyers, one of the worst teams in the league.
His agent wants him to clean up his act. He drinks too much. He sleeps around too much. That’s why his agent assigns Charlotte Coachman, aka Coach, to whip him into shape. Coach is a sexy sports agent that challenges him, makes him want to become a better man, and every time they are around each other, it's as if they're having their own face-off.
After Coach takes him under her wing, Alex wants her all to himself. She has strict rules about dating clients, and he likes breaking them.
Parker Excerpt
Chapter One
ALEX
Most people hate the loud, obnoxious noise a hockey goal horn makes, but I’m not one of those people. Because that means my team has scored and is one step closer to another victory.
But, this morning, the sweet sound I associate with winning wakes me from a drunken sleep, and for the third time this year, I know the person on the other end of the line is calling with bad news. I lift my head from the pillow, one eye open, as I reach for my cell phone on the bedside table.
Except I’m not in my bedroom. This is not my apartment.
Where the hell am I?
I spot a pink fuzzy robe draped over the closet door, reminding me of something a child would wear. A Harry Potter poster is on the wall above a small desk with a computer, a schoolbag slung over the top of the chair. The room is about the size of a dorm room.
No, this can’t be happening.
When I roll onto my back and sit up, I lean against the headboard, my legs too long for the twin-size bed, and see a naked blonde sleeping next to me. Her arm covers her face, so I can’t tell if I chose well before we left the bar last night. The entire evening is a blur.
Please don’t be a dorm room.
She stirs, a sound escaping her lips.
I silence the ringer on my phone and sigh when I see that it’s my agent calling. This is not good. Answering his call will only confirm that my future with the Washington Capitals is over.
I banged the wrong chick—and not the one next to me.
How was I supposed to know that smoking-hot puck bunny was the granddaughter of the wrinkly old fuck in charge of my paycheck?
I have to man up and face reality, so I return my agent’s call, praying that the owner has granted me a reprieve after another phenomenal season. I think I’ve earned that much. We’re first in our division, and we have the best penalty kill record in the league, thanks to me.
“Hey, Mick,” I say, my hand shaking as I hold the phone to my ear. “Let me—”
Before I can finish my thought, Mickey Donoghue—also known in the sports agent world as Mick the Dick—screams, “Pack your bags, jerk off; you’re going to Philadelphia. Don’t fuck this up, you understand? This is your last chance!”
I sit up straight, my heart pounding out of my chest, unable to process his words. The Philadelphia Flyers are not the worst team in the league, but they’re not the best either. I worked my ass off to make my team worthy of the playoffs. We almost won the Stanley Cup last year. Starting over with a young team is not ideal. In fact, it’s bullshit.
After eight years in the league, I should have my pick of teams. But, after my last fuckup, I lost some of my sponsors and was lucky that Mick was enough of a dick to keep me in Washington, DC. The team refused to sign me with a no-trade clause because of my past indiscretions, which meant I had no choice in where they wanted to send me.
“Can I just meet with the owner? Let me explain to him that it was all a misunderstanding.” I had a good relationship with the owner of the team before the scandal, before I banged his granddaughter in an elevator at The Ritz-Carlton. “Mick, I thought—”
“No, you don’t think, kid. That’s your problem. You let the wrong head do the thinking for you, and the result is the same every time. Look, you’ve got a lot of talent. I know your father wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”
He’s right about that. My dad would crawl out of his grave just to kick my ass if he knew what I had become since his death. A lot can happen in six months. I screwed up worse than normal, and now, I have to sack up and head to Philly to play for one of the last teams I would’ve ever chosen.
“Alex,” Mickey breathes into the receiver, “you’re my godson, and you have been with me since the start of your career. Your old man was a good guy, a talented player, and an even better coach. He was my closest friend, and because we’re like family, I try to look out for you and your best interests, as if you were my own son.”
“I know. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but you—”
I can almost see Mickey on the other end of the line, holding up his hand to silence me, cutting me off. “Think of this as a chance to start over with a less experienced team that can use your skill set. You can teach these young guys. With a lot of patience and time, you can build this team up and help them get into the playoffs.”
I don’t want to be someone’s mentor. I want to win the Stanley Cup.
A brief moment of silence passes between us before Mickey clears his throat, snapping me out of my daze. My head is pounding, as if it has its own pulse, and the foul taste in my mouth makes me want to vomit. I want to drink myself into oblivion at the thought of leaving my team. But I don’t have a choice.
“When do I leave for Philly?”
“You have to report for practice at the Flyers Skate Zone in Voorhees, New Jersey at the end of the week. I rented you an apartment, about thirty minutes away in Philly, from an agent who owns a few properties on the waterfront. I’ll text you the address. After we hang up, my office will give you a call to work out the details, and I’ll make sure someone is at the apartment to meet you with the keys. Since you already live like a drifter, I doubt you have much to pack, but I arranged for a moving company to help you with your transition. The movers will be at your apartment at nine a.m. tomorrow. Make sure you’re awake. No more bullshit, Alex. You’re twenty-seven years old. It’s time to grow up and act like an adult.”
The girl next to me removes her hand from her face, and I slide off the bed, holding on to the table next to me for support.
“Thanks, Mick,” I say, somewhat panicked. “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
“Hi,” the girl says in a playful tone.
She looks about as old as she sounds, which isn’t very comforting, though I can see why I took her to bed. She has legs for days and perky tits.
“What’s the rush, Alex?” She pushes her blonde strands behind her ear and bites down on her bottom lip.
I’m standing naked in front of this girl, contemplating whether I want to make use of those nice full lips, until she says, “We have time. My roommate won’t be home until later.”
That’s when I look at the other side of the room and see the same twin-size bed with a computer desk and chest of drawers, confirming I am in a dorm room.
Fuck!
I start to look for my clothes as I say to the girl, “How old are you?” I hold my breath, hoping that she’s not jailbait. The last thing I need is another scandal.
“I’ll be nineteen in a few weeks, remember? You told me last night that you would come to my birthday party and bring some of your teammates.”
I have to stop drinking.
I shake my head, relieved that she’s legal. “Sorry, but that’s not going to happen. I won’t be here in a few weeks. This was a mistake. Forget that I was ever here.”
I find my fitted gray shirt on the floor in front of her computer desk along with my boxer briefs, jeans, and sneakers. After dressing fast
er than I thought possible, I fix my shaggy brown hair, looking in the mirror next to her closet, and reach for the entrance door, about to escape this disaster, when something soft hits me on the back of the head. A pillow falls on the floor next to my shoe. When I look over my shoulder, the naked girl is holding up both of her middle fingers.
“Go to hell, Alex! Get the fuck out of my room!”
“Don’t need to tell me twice,” I mumble as I open the door with a wave in her direction before closing it behind me.
I feel a bit of relief until it hits me that I’m on a college campus, and I’m standing in a crowded hallway full of young girls. Based on their surprised looks, some of them know who I am. This is an all-time low.
Disgusted with myself, I keep my eyes pointed toward the floor until I get outside, avoiding the stares from those around me. I sift through the throng, all while dodging young girls who want me and boys who are whispering my name. Some of them have their cell phones aimed in my direction.
This is just my luck.
“Is that Alex Parker?” a boy says, his finger pointing at me as I walk past.
“Can’t be,” says another boy.
“I heard he fucked Jason’s girlfriend.”
“I heard he fucked this chick in my Bio class.”
Bad news travels fast.
At twenty-seven years old, I never thought I’d be doing the walk of shame out of a college dormitory. I also never thought I would destroy my career with a one-night stand in an elevator.
Once I make it through the herd, I glance up at the six-story building, my hand pressing to my forehead to shield my eyes from the sunlight.
Where am I?
The amount of students flowing in and out of the place, some of them staring at me with curiosity, makes me want to bolt off this fucking campus. But my head and body are throbbing in unison, and whatever strength I might’ve had today was probably spent on the girl I just ditched.
I take a seat on a ledge to my right, blocking the sun from my face, as I pull my phone from my pocket. Using the GPS on my phone, I zoom in to get a better look at the streets and realize I am at Georgetown University. At least I know where I am. The who and the why are the parts of last night I am missing.
Donovan (Face-Off Series Book 3) Page 19