The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1)

by Nicole Edwards

  No freaking way.

  Kingston takes a step back, seemingly oblivious to the crazy emotions racing through me at both his words and his kiss.

  “You ready to eat?”

  If you’re on the menu … yes.

  Again, I ignore my wayward thoughts and somehow I manage to nod.

  Kingston

  It’s safe to say I should’ve waited until after breakfast to kiss Ellie. However, I seem to be lacking even a modicum of willpower when it comes to her. From the second I saw her standing there in that towel…

  Heaven help me.

  As I lead her into the restaurant, I’m grateful that I didn’t tuck my shirt in. My dick is so fucking hard it hurts, and my jeans have become uncomfortably tight. But, as I’ve said before, my dick doesn’t rule my world, so it only takes a few minutes to get myself under control. By the time we’re seated, I only have to make minimal adjustments.

  Ellie pushes the menu to the side without looking at it, which piques my curiosity.

  “You still eat here?” I remember that she used to love this place, but from what I know, she doesn’t come by much anymore.

  Her smile is slow and sweet. “Not as much as I used to. Bianca prefers IHOP these days.”

  Interesting. This place used to be Bianca’s favorite breakfast place.

  “What about you?” she asks.

  I nod. “I get by here as often as I can, but not usually during the season.”

  “So why today?”

  “Couldn’t pass it up,” I admit.

  I wanted to take Ellie somewhere we could relax and enjoy. It isn’t much, but it sure beats those fancy places, which I’m not fond of at all. I’ll suffer through them, and I’ve even taken previous dates to those types of places, but I’d rather go somewhere that doesn’t involve ties and dress shoes. I’m more the T-shirt-and-jeans kind of guy, and I don’t require my orange juice to have fizzy shit in it, either.

  The waiter stops by, taking our drink and food order since we’re ready. When he heads back to the kitchen, I rest my arms on the table and stare at the beautiful woman across from me. All morning I’ve been antsy. From the time my eyes popped open at six, I’ve thought of little else other than her. During my morning run, I managed to block her out long enough to get through it, telling myself the reward was getting to see her again.

  “So what prompted you to ask me out?” I ask, my grin widening.

  Color blooms on Ellie’s cheeks. “I think it’s the other way around.”

  “Technically”—I laugh—“you’re the one who sent me the text.”

  “Well, I figured someone had to light a fire under your ass.”

  She might’ve been right about that. Something about this whole pretend thing is throwing me off my game. I’m fairly familiar with women asking me out, but I prefer the opposite. Who said chivalry was dead? However, when Ellie sent the text, I knew she wasn’t actually asking, which made it interesting, I guess.

  “Well, I’m glad you told me to ask.”

  Ellie chuckles, thanking the waiter when he delivers orange juice and water for each of us.

  “When’s your next practice?” Ellie asks, adjusting her napkin in her lap.

  “Tomorrow morning. Then tomorrow afternoon we’re on the road. Game on Tuesday night. More travel on Wednesday, then a game on Thursday before we head back here. The next two games after that are here.”

  “You’re playing Colorado on Tuesday, right?”

  “We are.”

  “I’m sure Heath’s already spouting shit, huh?”

  Ellie gets along with both of my brothers really well. They happen to be quite fond of her. At one point, I had to threaten Heath to lay off. He got it in his thick skull that he was going to ask her out. Of course, I made sure he understood that wasn’t an option. It might’ve required a headlock and a little wrestling, but I won.

  “He is. As always.”

  “So what’s it really like traveling with the team?”

  I lean back and rest my wrist on the table, watching Ellie closely. “Do you really want to know the answer to that? Considering you’re probably already aware?”

  Ellie chuckles softly, blushing once again. She leans in and lowers her voice. “No, I don’t want to know, but for the life of me, I don’t know what to say to you. It’s weird being on a … date.”

  She’s so damn cute when she’s being brutally honest. The slight color to her cheeks reflects her embarrassment, and I want to reach over and pull her into my arms, but I don’t. Figuring I’ll help her out and make this date a little less awkward, I decide to talk about things that are important to her. “How’s Bianca doing in school?”

  As I expected, Ellie’s face lights up, and the tension eases out of her shoulders. She never has had an issue talking about her daughter, and truth be told, I admire her for it.

  “She’s doing well,” she admits. “She’s taking more pre-AP classes this year, so there’s a lot of homework, but she seems to be managing it well.”

  “No nagging her about getting it done?”

  Ellie smiles. “Not yet. I’m lucky, I won’t lie.” Her eyes light up. “Other than monitoring her social media accounts and randomly going through her text messages, I don’t have to hover.”

  “You look at her social media?”

  “Of course. It’s the Internet. You never know what’s going on out there in cyberspace.”

  My thoughts drift to that Facebook post I’d inadvertently seen. If Ellie monitors Bianca’s Facebook, then she obviously knows about the post. Since no one felt the need to tell me—not Ellie or Spencer—then I can only take that to mean it’s none of my business. Honestly, I thought I would feel relief knowing that Ellie was aware… That’s not the case and I don’t know why.

  I force a smile. “That’s smart.”

  “It’s also necessary.” Ellie pulls her orange juice closer. “I want her to have some freedom, but I also want to know that she’s safe. She and I talk about it all the time. She’s a smart kid; she gets it.”

  “She takes after her mother,” I tell her.

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Ellie says, sipping her juice. “I never took any of the classes she’s taking. I preferred to have less homework.”

  “I was the same way.” I lean in again. “Now, Scott, he was the one who dove headfirst into all those advanced classes.”

  “Did any of you ever dye your hair pink?”

  That makes me smile. “No, but I remember one time Scott shaved lines in his eyebrow. I think it was a thing.”

  “How is that a thing?” Ellie laughs, a strong, throaty sound that goes right to my dick.

  “No idea. How is pink hair a thing?”

  Ellie shrugs and I see more of the tension in her shoulders dissolve. “When I asked her about it, she told me that it’s the cool thing right now.” She cocks her head to the side. “I don’t want my kid to be cool.”

  “You’d prefer if she was boring?”

  “Of course. Boys don’t like boring. I don’t want the boys to notice her.”

  “I’m pretty sure they already have.” I don’t know that for certain, but I remember being a kid. Girls were all I ever thought about when I hit junior high. Well, girls and hockey, but they sort of went hand in hand.

  “Don’t you dare say that,” she hisses with a chuckle. “I’d like to go on being oblivious.”

  Ellie is the least oblivious person I know.

  Since it seems I’ve managed to break the ice, I settle in to enjoy the conversation with Ellie—as well as our first official date.

  Ellie

  A virgin on prom night.

  That’s exactly how I felt at the beginning of this date. I honestly have no idea how I made it through breakfast with Kingston. Thankfully, he made it relatively easy.

  Once Kingston got me talking about Bianca, my nerves settled, and we spent the last two hours laughing and joking, and what had started out as a date turned into something far m
ore interesting and significantly less stressful. Even now, as I sit in his truck on the way back to my place, I don’t want it to end. We’ve had so much fun.

  Kingston pulls the truck into the driveway and puts it in park. When I release my seat belt and turn toward the door, he stops me with a hand on my arm.

  “Not yet,” he says, his voice low and sexy.

  I turn back to face him, and I know he’s going to kiss me.

  At least I hope he’s going to kiss me. For the last couple of hours, I’ve thought about that kiss no less than a dozen times. Really.

  His eyes lift to mine, then drop back to my mouth.

  Yep, he is definitely going to kiss me.

  And when he reaches over and pulls me toward him, I don’t resist. I don’t want to. The only thing I want to do is get lost in this man for a little while. Kingston makes me feel safe, he makes me feel desired, but most importantly, he makes me feel. I could so easily get addicted to kissing him. The way his mouth feels on mine, the strength in his hand as he gently cups the back of my neck, the soft growl that rumbles in his chest…

  “Ellie… Christ. I could eat you alive.”

  Yes, please.

  I can’t voice my thoughts because his mouth is on mine once more and I’m drowning in the glorious sensation, overwhelmed by him, his kiss. It’s as though he really can’t get enough, but I know how he feels. If we could do this for the rest of the day, I damn sure wouldn’t complain.

  I’ve never been kissed like this.

  Never.

  But what gets me is the fact that he isn’t pushing for more. I can sense his hesitancy in his posture. I know he wants me, possibly as much as I want him, but he isn’t rushing things, isn’t trying to take this any further than kissing. I’m not sure that has ever happened to me. I love it. Love knowing that I don’t have to feel pressured for more when I know it isn’t the right time. Not yet.

  One day, though. One day very, very soon, I won’t be able to handle only kissing this man.

  Where the hell did that come from?

  It isn’t like me to want something more, but with Kingston … I definitely want more.

  From a sexual perspective, of course.

  Not a relationship.

  I’m certainly not in the market for that, and perhaps that is what makes this so perfect. Kingston is my friend, and this has been set up beforehand, so we know how it will end. No strings, no broken hearts, no expectations.

  Perfect.

  Very much like his kiss.

  When he pulls back, his warm hands cup my face and his forehead rests against mine. He’s breathing deeply, as am I. There’s a firestorm of sexual energy swirling around us. It’s causing my body temperature to rise and those dormant butterflies in my stomach to take flight.

  “When I get back to town, I want to take you out again.”

  “I’d like that.” He couldn’t possibly understand how much. “And thanks for breakfast.”

  “Anytime.” The word is a rumble, which stirs electrical currents in my belly. Those butterflies better look out.

  A knock on the window causes me to jump. I spin around to see my daughter’s face pressed up against the glass. She’s grinning wildly while her nose is flattened on the window. She’s such a nerd.

  Kingston chuckles.

  “I guess I should go in.” I don’t want to, but now that Bianca has busted me making out with Kingston, I probably have some questions to answer.

  “Text me later?”

  I’m grinning like a fool. I feel like a teenager again. “I can do that.”

  But first, I definitely have to have a conversation with Bianca.

  “Can you make me and Gabby grilled cheese?” Bianca asks when I follow her into the house.

  “Of course. How many?”

  “One and a half!” Bianca beams. “Each.”

  After setting my purse on the counter, I get to work making lunch for the girls. Bread, butter, cheese … the sandwiches are easy, but I refuse to only feed my kid grease (although it is delicious), so I pull out a container of cantaloupe and grapes, drop some on a plate, and put it on the bar in front of them.

  I notice Bianca is watching me closely and Gabby is giggling to herself. I don’t know how to approach the subject of Kingston, not sure even how to explain it, but I try to come up with something while I work.

  Bianca makes it not awkward at all with her outburst. “So, do you love Mount Rushmore, or what?”

  I peer at her over my extremely tense shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

  “Y’all were playing kissy face in his truck. I’ve never seen you play kissy face with anyone. Do you love him?”

  I chuckle at her description. “I like him,” I explain.

  “So, you’re dating him?”

  Technically, yes I am, so I nod. “I guess you could say I am.”

  “Oooh! My mommy is dating a hockey player!”

  “Oh, hush.” I’m giggling at this point, and I feel like a kid again.

  I dish up their sandwiches and deliver them to the bar, waiting to see what else my kid will say. She surprises me at that point.

  “He’s really cool, Mom. And I know he likes you. Be nice to him, huh?”

  My eyes are wide with disbelief as I stare at her, confused.

  “You’re not big into dating, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  No, I’m not. That’s true.

  “Kingston’s a good guy. I don’t want you to break his heart.”

  That drags a laugh from me. I don’t think Kingston’s heart is the one we should be worried about here, but I don’t tell her that. “I promise I’ll be nice to him.”

  “Good.”

  And just like that, the subject is closed. Bianca turns to Gabby, and they start chattering about hair colors while I stare at my daughter, trying to wrap my head around what just happened.

  I’m pretty sure I just got schooled in romance by a twelve-year-old.

  Bianca

  “Are you happy that your mom’s dating Kingston?” Gabby asks when we’re sitting in my bedroom.

  I close the lid on my laptop, then turn to face her. She’s sitting crisscross on my bed, and I’m in my desk chair. We’ve been trying to come up with something to do other than sit here and stare at the Facebook post that clearly hasn’t been seen by my dad.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it looks like your mom really likes Kingston. And like I said, that’s really cool and all, but what happens if your real dad comes back? What will he think about that?”

  I shrug. I don’t know what he will think.

  “I mean, everyone is talking about it. What if your dad sees your post, then figures out that your mom is dating a hockey player? What if he decides not to call her because of that?”

  I prop my feet up on my bed and cross my arms over my chest, staring at Gabby. “What are you saying?”

  “What if your dad wants to only be with you if he can be with your mom, too?”

  “Why would he want that?”

  Gabby shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m just thinking. Kingston is famous.”

  “So, because Kingston is famous, my dad wouldn’t want to get to know me?”

  “Maybe. What if he wants to marry your mom so that y’all can be a family? If she’s with Kingston, he can’t do that.”

  “I didn’t think about that.”

  Gabby sits up straight. “I think it happens all the time. What about the people who get divorced and marry someone else? Like Patricia Honeywell. Her mom and dad got divorced, and her mom got married to someone else. Her dad stopped seeing her after that. She said he didn’t want to be around her mom if she was married to someone else.”

  “But I like Kingston,” I tell her.

  “I know. But what if your real dad doesn’t?” Gabby shrugs again. “I’m just sayin’.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. It makes sense.

  Kind of.

  Kingston: What are
you wearing?

  Ellie: Clothes. You?

  Kingston: Nothing.

  Ellie: I’ve heard you like to do that. In case you weren’t aware, they gossip about you in the locker room.

  Kingston: Do they now? What do they say?

  Ellie: That you’re a pretty decent kisser.

  Kingston: Decent? That’s not what I heard.

  Ellie: What did you hear?

  Kingston: I think the word they usually use is phenomenal.

  Ellie: Well, I’m no expert.

  Kingston: But you could be.

  Ellie: I hear it requires practice to become an expert at something. Lots and lots of practice.

  Kingston: You know, I heard that, too. We could form a study group. Just the two of us.

  Ellie: Yeah?

  Kingston: Yes. And I think we should probably get right to it.

  Ellie: Not easy to do when you’re on the road.

  Kingston: But I’ll be back on Friday.

  Ellie: Friday night study group? Sounds like something the cool kids would turn their nose up at.

  Kingston: Yeah, well. The cool kids don’t know shit.

  14

  Ellie

  Tuesday, October 18th

  “Come on! You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yell at the giant television mounted on the wall, pausing as I take a beer over to table three. I turn to the group of guys sitting at the table. “Did you see that crap? He deliberately tripped him. And they called the penalty on us.”

  The guys laugh, as they’ve been doing all night. Yes, I know I can get irate when the game doesn’t go my way. But this game has been bullshit. A whole slew of bad calls, all on the Arrows. Hell, we’re racking up the penalty minutes left and right.

  Normally, I don’t mind the penalties. My brother informed me long ago that many of the penalties are necessary. In order to impact the way a game is going, changes have to occur. Sometimes the slightest shift will change the momentum. Then again, he also said that sometimes the penalties are necessary to avoid letting the opponent score.

  Whatever.

  I’m cool with all that, but not if the refs seem to have it in for my team.

  “Hey, someone let her know we’re winning!”