The violent thought gave me pause as the two girls that were checking me out sidled up to me. One stood next to me, and the other blocked my path forward. I shouldn’t have cared about whether or not the man with Sexy Librarian was her date or not. She’d dismissed me pretty resolutely the night before, and I wasn’t some fucking creep that couldn’t take a hint.
I did definitely need to talk to her, thought—to at least explain that Tremblay didn’t trip her, and to beg her to come talk to Coach Fisher. Even if he was as big a douche bag as Big D claimed, Tremblay was still a huge part of the Valors’ organization, and my urge to be successful was always more important than any other thing I wanted.
Sexy Librarian ducked out from under his arm and turned toward me. Instant recognition shone over her bruised and swollen face. An eager smile crept over my lips, only to be dashed away at the panicked look that settled over her face a second later. She began pushing her date through the crowd and toward the staircase that led to the second level of the bar.
I pushed past the two women. I shouted, “Sorry, ladies!” over my shoulder before pursuing Sexy Librarian through the thick of the crowd. Her blonde head disappeared down the stairs, and I cursed as I sidestepped a bartender with a stack of pint glasses towering precariously in his arms.
Once I reached the staircase, I took the steps two at a time. A bounding jump from the last step landed me about a quarter of the way to the elevator. My stomach dropped at the sight of her wild-eyed and panting in the back of the elevator as people shuffled in around her. Her panicked look gave way to a look of relief as the elevator doors slid closed, distancing us again.
— C —
A sigh of relief slipped through my lips as the elevator doors slid closed. “What the hell, Charlie?” Nate whined, turning toward me with pouty lips as we descended. “We don’t run from attractive men when they’re interested in us. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
I turned in the crowded elevator to stare my friend square in the eye. He stared back expectantly, and I finally said, “That was the guy from the bar last night that accused me of being stood up.”
Nate’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline; and as if forgetting that the doors were already closed, he glanced toward the front of the elevator. His eyes slipped closed for a moment as he leaned his head back against the wall. After a deep breath and equally loud sigh, he said, “Holy shit, girl, he’s hot. If I was you last night, I would’ve let him believe whatever he wanted about me before inviting him back to my apartment to soothe my bruised ego with his tongue.”
My face burned, and I pinched Nate on the side when several pairs of affronted eyes turned in our direction. “Sorry, he was homeschooled,” I said before pinching Nate even harder. He guffawed, and I found myself wishing—not for the first time—for at least one best friend that just an ounce of subtlety and tact.
Chapter 4
— D —
To: Mom
From: Devon Cote
Subject: Life Update (Spoiler: I’m still alive!)
Hey Mom!
Sorry it’s taken me so long to shoot you an e-mail about everything that’s been happening! I’ve been trying to call, but I just can’t quite seem to catch you between work and the book club. Dad’s been a real treat to talk to, though. Anyway, I just wanted to fill you in; so buckle up, it’s been an exciting week.
It’s been easier getting into a routine than I thought it would be. I grab breakfast every morning before going to the practice facility in North Charleston for team skate or endurance training. Practices have been a resounding letdown. The team’s in a funk without Tremblay (remember, the assistant captain that got into some trouble over the weekend?), and Creed (the captain) has been in an really bad mood, so he isn’t encouraging anyone to better themselves or their performance. I’m pretty sure we’re going to get steamrolled in our game against the Solar Bears.
Seriously, Ma, this game is going to be an outright disaster if morale doesn’t improve, and it’s gonna take an act of Congress to make that happen at this point. Or we’re gonna have to have a breakaway every time someone turns around. (Remember what a breakaway is? Clear shot at the net—no one between you and scoring except the goaltender? Every player’s dream situation…)
Coach Martin did grab me at the beginning of team skate to let me know that the head coach has been impressed with my performance this week, which is pretty cool I guess. I swear I planned to thank him for his support and the opportunity to try out for the team, but he decided to drop a freakin’ bombshell on me.
The coaching staff decided they want to drop me into the first line with Callahan for tomorrow’s game. THEY’RE INSANE! I’ve been practicing in the THIRD LINE. Only having one day to practice with a new line before a game is just absolute madness. I tried to tell Coach Martin that, but he just laughed at me. He said that regardless of my performance at tomorrow’s game, I have no reason to worry—it’s just a formality. I move in with Cam Callahan and Sean Tremblay this coming Sunday after our weekend games. So… yeah, I got the contract.
When he told me this morning, my first reaction was not good. Honestly, in retrospect, I realize that I wasn’t as excited or thankful as I should have been. The midseason slump that we’re in is only going to get worse with Tremblay benched, and I don’t think that the playoffs are going to be even a Wild Card possibility with a couple of weeks of bad games this far into the season. But I have to remember that any spot in this league is a good spot—at least it’s a developmental league.
And, you know, Charleston is a pretty cool area, so I like that I get to live here for awhile, too. Just another perk to playing hockey in the south. The apartments that the team live in are in Mt. Pleasant, which is about 20 minutes from anywhere you could want to go. I really like walking around downtown, there’s a lot of really cool history and it’s beautiful. You should come visit sometime. There’s a park on the wharf that has a big ass pineapple fountain that I think even Dad could enjoy.
There’s a pier really close to the pineapple fountain that has some porch style swings. I can just imagine sitting there and feeling the breeze off the water. And don’t get me started on the beaches, Ma. I’ve visited a couple, and I really like Isle of Palms. It’s really quiet and not overly developed. I think you would like it a ton. Definitely the type of place you can curl up in the sand with a book and waste an afternoon.
See? Another reason for you to come visit. We could read your terrible romance novels on the beach together. ;)
Out of everything here, though, what I’m most impressed by is the North Charleston Coliseum. It’s the venue where we practice and play our games. It is way bigger than most of the venues I played in when I was playing for Peoria. I’ve heard that our home crowd is really fanatic about the team, so I’m pretty stoked to see that tomorrow night. Callahan told me that the coliseum actually fills to capacity a couple of times a year depending on the team’s performance and whatever promotion the marketing team has cooked up for intermission.
The rumble of the crowd above me pulled my attention away from the phone clutched in my fist. The e-mail I sent my mother the day before was forgotten as the thought of the rumbling crowd caused an uncomfortable clench in my stomach. Over an hour to puck drop remained, but the crowd already sounded massive. Nervous energy pumped through my body, but wandering aimlessly through the halls of the lowest level of the building helped calm me somewhat.
I turned toward a corridor that would lead me back to the locker room when a pretty heated argument caught my attention. Tremblay stood with his back pressed against the wall behind him. He was scowling down at a petite redheaded woman standing in front of him. Even from halfway down the hall, I could tell that the furious woman with her finger in his face was Emily’s younger sister, Lindsey.
For the better part of a week, I wished that Lindsey would drop by her sister’s house so I could question her about her whereabouts the Saturday before. Each time her name was men
tioned by Emily or Joseph, I fought the urge to ask if she was coming around soon and whether or not she had a sexy blonde haired friend that had a questionable taste in books.
The book that was pulled up on her Kindle the first time I turned it on was called The Italian Millionaire CEO’s Secret Baby Scandal, and the sex scene read like it was written by a 15-year-old boy that only ever dreamed of touching boobs. There was a part of me that wanted to find the author of the Italian romance novel and show her just how a real man makes love to a woman, but there was a bigger part of me that felt really badly for Sexy Librarian if her expectations for sex were anything at all similar to the book. I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I finished the book before starting another.
I pushed the thought from my mind as I approached the pair arguing heatedly in the hallway. Someone clearly needed to step between the two before things escalated out of control. My mouth dropped when I heard Lindsey exclaim, “Listen here, you dirty cock warbler, if you ever set one foot near her again, I’ll fucking gut you!”
I was too late, it seemed.
I blanched as Sean bared his teeth at the petite woman aggressively. I was still a good 20 feet away and could easily see the veins throbbing on his neck. “For the last fucking time, you psycho, I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“Oh, fucking of course you don’t,” she practically screamed, and I picked up my pace down the hallway, afraid that she might actually try to fight him. I didn’t know him well enough to know how he would react to that.
Lindsey's next words, spit hatefully, caused me to stop dead in my tracks. “I don’t know who raised your Neanderthal ass, but where do you get off with pouring a beer on a stranger before TRIPPING her into a goddamned pool table?”
A gasp from somewhere behind me caused all three of us to turn. Fury was marked clearly over Emily’s face as she stomped down the hall. “Lindsey Bethany Thomas!” she screeched as her sister scuttled backwards from Tremblay. She seemed to shrink further into her small frame as her sister approached.
Sean and I shared a bewildered glance as Emily bellowed, “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve known about this for nearly a week and failed to tell me?”
“Em, listen, she’s scared shitless. It took everything I had to get her here tonight!”
My mind only puzzled briefly over why Sexy Librarian would be scared, focusing instead on the fact that the woman was somewhere in the Coliseum. My heart beat just a little faster and a little harder in my chest. Emily marched forward and grabbed her sister’s arm with a sneer. “Cote, Tremblay, go to the locker room.”
— C —
I was entertaining the idea of tossing Lindsey over the Ravenel Bridge and into Cooper River one foggy morning as I approached the fan assistance booth. She disappeared from our seats nearly a half hour before, shouting that she wanted to see her sister before the start of the hockey game. I’d spent the entire walk from our car to the coliseum threatening her against breathing a word of the previous weekend’s fiasco to her sister.
“Breathe one word of what happened to Emily, and I’ll tell sissy dearest how many Valors you’ve slept with.” Lindsey’s eyes widened, and I felt a maniacal grin stretching across my face. “Don’t test me. We stick to the kitchen story if she somehow manages to see me. Got it?”
When the Valors’ announcer called our seat numbers and asked for us to report to the fan assistance booth, I knew Lindsey had opened her goddamn mouth. A look of anger danced across Emily’s face as soon as she spotted me, and Lindsey stared at me with a forlorn look in her eye. The rage that might normally boil up within me was tempered by the knowledge that I was about to be in a whole heap of trouble that I didn’t deserve to be in.
Emily, like every other person who glanced my bruised up mug, gawked at the coloring displayed there. “Charlie,” she groaned once she managed to control her slack-jawed surprise, “how do you always manage to get yourself into so much trouble? C’mon, we need to go talk to Coach.”
Fear finally settled in my stomach as I turned wild eyes on my traitorous best friend. Fear and anger burned through every part of my body as I realized that Sean Tremblay and the Valors were pressing charges. Lindsey turned her eyes downward when I tried to make eye contact, and I knew then that my bitch of a best friend was the reason I was getting ready to go to jail.
Emily took hold of my limp arm, manicured nails digging painfully into the soft flesh of my bicep. The fear and disbelief that coursed through me made it difficult for me to resist as she led me down two flights of stairs and toward the locker room. As we approached the entrance to the locker room, Emily loosened her grip on my arm and placed a hand on the small of my back. She pressed me forward with enough pressure to be forceful but not enough to cause me to trip.
“Emily, can we please just go back to our seats?” I asked, petrified of what would happen if she managed to get me in front of Coach Fisher. I swear, as a mature adult, I knew that all actions had consequences, but I wasn’t feeling particularly accountable.
“Absolutely not, Charlotte.” I cringed.
Emily reserved full names for special occasions, and dread dropped in my stomach like a lead weight. Nausea followed the drop, and I thought I just might puke in the hall outside of the Valors' locker room.
I dug my heels into the ground, but the concrete was slippery against the worn tread of my shoes. I threw my hand against the cinderblock wall and pivoted to face Emily. I’d just opened my mouth to argue my case when a throat cleared behind us. Her eyes focused on the person behind me; and while I was relieved to have a reprieve from my pending incarceration, I didn’t bother to turn.
— D —
A flurry of blonde hair whipped quickly around as Sexy Librarian pivoted to face Emily. Her shoulders sagged with what I imagined was relief when I cleared my throat. “Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Martin, but Joseph asked me to come find you. He’d like a quick word.”
Emily visibly deflated as she sighed. In an action that matched her husband’s, she ran a hand through her strawberry blonde locks before nodding. “Of course. Devon, I need you to stay out here with Charlotte. I’m afraid she’s going to run off if left unsupervised, and I still need her to speak with Coach Fisher.”
Sexy Librarian’s short reply was as crude, and I couldn’t stop my sharp intake of breath at her words. “I don’t need a goddamn babysitter, Emily.” she spat, and I found myself feeling a little offended for the ultra-polite woman who opened her home to me during my trial period.
“Watch your mouth, Charlotte,” was her simple response as she darted around both of us to enter the locker room.
I rolled the woman’s name around in my mind briefly. Charlotte. It seemed old-fashioned and out-of-sorts with her crass personality, but I liked the way it sounded whispered in my head. The anticipation of finally being face-to-face with the intriguing woman buzzed through my body.
Charlotte finally turned to face me. I hid my reaction behind a smirk as I leaned my shoulder against the wall, hoping to convey cool confidence rather than the shock I actually felt. The face that I found stunning in the sport’s bar was hidden beneath a quilt of bruises in black, blue, and purple.
An array of emotions flitted through her eyes before settling into what one might describe as indignant disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me,” she hissed, and I could feel my smirk grow across my face. Her eyes traveled the length of my body not once, but twice, before hazel eyes locked with my own.
I wasn’t totally sure, but a spark that I would label as attraction appeared in her eyes as she appraised me in my Valors’ uniform. The suit I wore the night I met her at Big Game was better suited to my lean frame, but she certainly seemed to like what she saw. “So, it’s Charlotte, is it? That has a nicer ring to it than Sexy Librarian.”
I could have kicked myself as the words dripped sleazily from my lips. Her jaw tightened momentarily before pain flashed across her face. It was gone as quickly as it appeared. “The nam
e’s Charlie, asshole.”
“You’ve got quite the mouth on you,” I said without thought.
She considered me for a long moment, her chin tipping upward and hazel eyes sparkling in the dim fluorescent lighting. She seemed to be caught somewhere between the urge to throttle me and the urge to kiss me, and I felt the uncomfortable stirrings of an unwanted pre-game erection. The best way to get rid of an unwanted game day erection was a quick fuck or a dirty fight on the ice.
Judging by the look on Charlie’s face, a quick fuck wasn’t in my foreseeable future. “Oh, I don’t usually have such a filthy mouth,” she started. I knew she was lying—she all but called me every curse word under the sun the first time we met—but I let her continue anyway, “but there’s just something about you that inspires the curse words to flow freely.”
Alternate Universe Devon decided to respond to Charlie as I stood on the sidelines blowing my whistle, arm raised firmly in the air. “Curse words aren’t usually what flow freely from women when they’re around me. Give me a chance, and I can prove that to you tomorrow night.”
“Devon, was it?” she asked, and a shiver raced down my spine at the sound of my name on her lips. There was a definite case of halfing going on. I nodded simply, and she continued, “Get a fucking clue.”
Breakaway: A Hockey Romance Page 4