The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1)

by Nicole Edwards

  Starting tonight.

  “Mmm,” Ellie says, leaning into my touch once more before pulling away. “You have magic fingers.” She gets to her feet, causing my hands to drop. “Thank you for that.”

  “Anytime. I also do full body massages,” I say as I stand up straight.

  Her eyes flare and I’m pretty sure I see heat blaze in those ice-green depths. It isn’t the first time I’ve thought Ellie looked at me as someone other than her brother’s best friend.

  She shrugs. “Thanks for the uh … offer.” A smile forms.

  Ellie turns away from me and my gaze instantly drops to her ass. Tonight she’s wearing a tight black T-shirt with the name of her bar boldly scrolled across the front in neon green. The shirt accentuates her narrow waist and impressive tits, which I’ve admired more than once. But it’s her ass encased in those sexy jeans that always captivates me.

  “Oh, and thanks for your help with those guys. But really, I could’ve handled it myself.”

  I know better than to respond.

  I watch as she heads over to one of the tables currently occupied, greeting people and asking if they need anything.

  I don’t move for a long minute, staring at her while she works. I know I should go home and go to sleep. I should go home, go to sleep, and forget this crazy notion that I need to make a move on this woman before I never have the opportunity.

  Unfortunately, I have never been good at taking directions. Not even from myself.

  “Hey, Rush! How ’bout some shots, man?”

  I turn toward the guys at the back. We have a game tomorrow, so shots are out of the question for me, although I’m slightly tempted after that erotic shoulder massage that has me worked up more than it should.

  Giving in would be stupid, but for a few minutes, I actually weigh my options.

  16

  Bianca

  Saturday, October 22nd

  When my mom mentioned that Kingston wanted me to go with him to the children’s hospital, I wasn’t about to say no. I’ve visited that place so many times over the years, usually with Kingston, but sometimes with Uncle Optimus. They both tell me how proud they are that I’m willing to give a part of myself and not ask for anything in return.

  Honestly, I’ve never thought about asking for something in return. I don’t know why someone would. It makes me sad sometimes to see the kids when they’re really sick, but a lot of the time I get to laugh and talk, and it makes me feel good. I don’t think I’d feel good if I was expecting something back.

  Because Kingston had morning skate before his game tonight, I’m waiting for him to show up. I texted Gabby to let her know that we’re still on for the game and that we’ll be by to pick her up at seven. She seems excited, but it’s only because she wants to see what Josh Locke looks like in person. I told her we probably wouldn’t get to see him play because Kingston is in goal. But we will get to see him sitting on the bench, which is cool, too.

  “Bianca! Kingston’s here!”

  I grab my phone and bounce up from my bed. My eyes immediately go to my laptop sitting on my desk. I run over to check it, making sure I’m logged into the right Facebook account. I don’t want my mom to get curious and find the other one. I know she likes to look at my accounts from time to time. She’s nosy like that.

  “Bianca!”

  “Coming!” I yell back, verifying that I do have the right account open, then running out of the room and down the stairs.

  “Hey, kiddo,” Kingston greets when I reach the bottom of the stairs.

  We bump knuckles and he throws his arm around me.

  “I’ll have her back in two hours. I have to make this short today because of the game.”

  My mom nods at Kingston, and I notice the way she’s looking at him. I can tell she really likes him, but I’ve thought that for a while now. She always says nice things about him, and I know she tells Noelle that she thinks he’s cute. Still, I can’t help but think about what Gabby said. If my mom loves Kingston, will my dad not want me?

  I don’t want to think about that right now. I’ve been thinking about it too much as it is. It doesn’t even matter unless my dad actually sees the Facebook post and knows that I’m alive.

  Once we’re in Kingston’s truck, he points to the radio. “It’s all yours,” he says.

  Smiling, I reach over and change the station, turning up the volume while he rolls down the windows. It’s what we do. He might not like my choice in music, but he pretends to because this is our thing.

  Ellie

  Although my usual seats are up higher so that I can get a good view of the entire rink, this time I opted for seats down close to the ice. Since Gabby is with us, I used her as an excuse, but in reality, I wanted to get closer to Kingston. I’ll get to see him up close for two periods, and the girls will get a better view of the guys on the bench.

  When the lights in the arena go out, I find myself sitting on the edge of my seat. I’ve got a beer in one hand and the other is gripping my phone tightly. My eyes are glued to the place where the players will come out. I’ve been to hundreds of games in my lifetime, but oddly, this one seems like the first. I don’t know what it is or why I’ve developed some crazy childish crush on Kingston, but I have.

  The announcer’s deep baritone echoes throughout the darkened arena: Okay, hockey fans. Let’s give it up for your Austin Arrows!

  People are on their feet, thunderous applause, along with the whistles of true fans, making it impossible to hear. I love this part. Every time the guys come out on the ice, a thrill races through me.

  I keep my eyes peeled for Kingston as the players filter through the giant LED alien head. Well, technically it’s a skull, but it looks like an alien head to me. My heart skips a beat when he comes out on the ice. I can’t look away as he moves over to the net directly in front of me. He looks so focused, so intense. Part of me wishes he would look my way, but the other part doesn’t want him distracted. This is only the fourth game this season, and there are seventy-eight more after this, but to a player, I know that every single game matters.

  “Mommy! He looks so cool.”

  I glance over at Bianca. She’s staring at Kingston, as well.

  And she’s right, he does look cool in all that gear. His helmet is the coolest. It’s black with Arrows written across the front, just above the mask that protects his face. The entire thing is airbrushed with a mountain design on one side, which includes his number. On the other, the Arrows logo. There is something about a goalie mask. It’s just so … hot.

  Although I can’t see his face, I can imagine the determination in his dark eyes.

  The music and light show follow, and after the Star Spangled Banner and the ceremonial puck drop, the players are in position and ready. The official comes over between Spencer and a player from the other team. I hold my breath as he drops the puck … and they’re off!

  In order to avoid any curious reporters, I decide to take the girls directly out to the car after the game. I usually wait for Spencer, but I know he’s going to be in a bad mood tonight, so I shoot him a text and let him know I’m heading home. It’s Saturday night or I would’ve gone up to the bar to hang out. Instead, Bianca convinces me to let Gabby spend the night, so I call her mom to get permission, then we head home after grabbing hamburgers from Wendy’s.

  “It sucks that they lost,” Bianca says solemnly when we’re pulling into the driveway.

  “There’re a lot of games in the season,” I explain. “They can’t win them all.”

  “I know. But Kingston looked angry.”

  He did look mad, no doubt about that. There were a couple of questionable calls, and it didn’t help when they scored on themselves. I know the commentators are going to have a field day with this one, which is why I’ll be avoiding the after-game show. I don’t need someone else’s take on it. I was there.

  “Y’all can’t stay up all night,” I inform Bianca as she bounds up the stairs, Gabby right behind he
r.

  “We know!”

  She might be agreeable, but I know I’ll need to check on them around one o’clock. Knowing them, they’ll still be awake.

  I pull my phone from my purse and perch on a barstool. I want to text Kingston, but I don’t know what to say to him. He played a good game, but I know how he gets when they lose. Especially when he’s in goal. He’s incredibly critical of himself.

  I feel like I should say something since we’ve been chatting by text for a while now. He might not be in the mood to message me back, but that’s okay.

  I pull up my text app.

  Ellie: Rough night, but you were awesome.

  I hit send and drop the phone on the counter. I’m kind of glad I don’t have to be at the bar tonight. Thankfully, I’ve got Julie filling in, which relieves a lot of my stress. I enjoy the nights I can be home with Bianca, even if she spends all her time with Gabby. I’m always in a panic when I know she’s home alone, although she insists that she prefers it that way. Luckily, I have a pretty cool neighbor—Mrs. Potts—who is willing to come over if ever Bianca needs something. So far, I haven’t had to call her.

  My phone buzzes and I glance down at the screen.

  Pathetic: Thanks.

  Well, there you have it. He’s in a mood, clearly. If he weren’t, he would’ve sent something more than one word.

  While I debate whether or not I should go to bed, I pull up Twitter and check my tweet from earlier. There’s no response from @KingstonRush39, which means he hasn’t seen it or he’s too pissed to respond. It’s a good one, too: Mountain climbing … I hear it can be a good cardiovascular workout. Always good to consider new exercise routines.

  Maybe he’ll see it later and it’ll make him smile. It’s all I can hope for.

  I’ve dealt with this my entire life. Spencer has always been extremely moody after a loss. Most of the time, he won’t talk to anyone, so we’ve learned to leave him alone. In the years since our parents passed, I usually irritate him until he responds.

  But not tonight.

  I’ll let him and Kingston stew in their defeat. And tomorrow, hopefully, they’ll be over it.

  17

  Ellie

  Sunday, October 23rd

  “Oh, come on,” Noelle pleads. “It looks fantastic on you.”

  “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” I grumble.

  I’m staring at myself in the full-length mirror at one of Noelle’s favorite stores, but the woman peering back at me looks nothing like me. Well, aside from the hair and eyes, maybe.

  “It does not,” I object. “My skin looks too pale and what’s this? It looks like I’ve got a third boob. Seriously. This isn’t a good dress for me.”

  Noelle’s smile widens. “You’ve said that about the last dozen.”

  “And you can add this one to that pile.”

  “Don’t you dare move,” Noelle insists. “I’ll be right back.”

  I’ve heard that at least five times already, and every time, Noelle has come back with a dress that’s worse than the one before. If it weren’t for the fact that I can’t unzip myself from this thing, I would’ve already discarded it and pulled on my jeans. I’m contorted into a pretzel, attempting to do so, when Noelle returns a minute later.

  “Here. This is the one.”

  I stare at the dress she’s holding up in front of me. It’s black and short, unlike the others she has brought. There are sleeves—a sheer chiffon—and some sort of beaded design on the hem of the skirt and the cuffs. On the hanger, it’s really cute. That doesn’t mean it’ll look good on me, though.

  But since it’s not terrible, I know I have no choice but to try it on and appease my best friend.

  “Okay, I’ll try it.”

  After Noelle unzips me, I slip into the dressing room and change into the next dress. I do my best not to look at my reflection until I have it on and adjusted. Taking a deep breath, I brush my hair back over my shoulder and … open my eyes.

  “You love it, don’t you?” Noelle calls through the door.

  My best friend knows me well. I’m not sure why she didn’t bring this one to me first. It’s perfect. The scoop neckline shows hardly any cleavage, just enough to entice. It hugs my body, and the hem, with the silver, curly, beaded design, stops mid-thigh. The sleeves are see-thru and loose, flaring at the cuff, which has the same design as the hem. In a word, it’s magnificent.

  “I love it,” I tell her, opening the door and stepping out so I can look in the larger mirror.

  “Holy, fuck. Kingston is going to go apeshit.”

  I don’t know about all that, but I do think it looks good on me. I’ve always been a tomboy, so when it comes to dresses, I tend to shy away from them. Since I’m so tall and thin, I’ve never felt as though I fill them out appropriately. This one is different.

  “Oh, hold on. I know the perfect shoes.”

  Noelle disappears, and while she’s gone, I snap a picture of myself in the mirror and send it over to Kingston: This look okay for next weekend?

  My brother so kindly informed me a couple of days ago that we were being invited to a charity dinner benefiting mental health awareness. And by invited, he meant being forced to go. He said that this is an important event for Phoenix’s wife, so I didn’t put up much of a fight. I’m not the fancy-dress kind of girl, but it’s hard for me to tell my brother no when he has done so much for me. It didn’t hurt that he told me I’ll be going with Kingston. That alone makes it worth it.

  Noelle pops back into the room, practically bouncing as she holds out a pair of silver heels. They’re strappy and cute, but I’ve always hated my feet. Because of my height, I’ve got big feet, and any time I wear sandals, I feel as though everyone is looking at them.

  Since I know she won’t give up until I at least try, I slip them on.

  Huh. They actually look good.

  I look good.

  My phone chirps and I look at the screen.

  Pathetic: Holy. Fuck.

  I laugh because I still have Kingston’s nickname in my phone. The zing of heat that flashes through me is a direct result of his response, though. While I’m thinking about it, I quickly pull up Kingston’s contact information and change his name from Pathetic to Goalie God.

  “So?” Noelle probes.

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Awesome!” She giggles gleefully. “Now we have to find one for the children’s hospital benefit.”

  Oh, shit. I totally forgot about that one.

  Looks like I just lost what was left of my afternoon.

  18

  Tuesday, October 25th

  Ellie: Good luck tonight! I know you’re gonna do great.

  Kingston: You think so?

  Ellie: Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?

  Kingston: What if I said I needed a little motivation?

  Ellie: Hmmm. I’d have to ask what type of motivation.

  Kingston: I was thinking we could make a little wager.

  Ellie: On the game?

  Kingston: Yeah.

  Ellie: Isn’t there a conflict of interest since you’re playing?

  Kingston: Well, I was thinking something along the lines of what you’ll give me if I can avoid getting more than a certain number of goals.

  Ellie: I’d be willing to wager something, but it has to be that you win the game and that you can give up no more than two goals.

  Kingston: What are you willing to wager?

  Ellie: I don’t know. This was your idea.

  Kingston: I’m thinking that if we win the game and I can keep it under two, I get to peel that sexy black dress right off your body.

  Ellie: What do I get if I win?

  Kingston: You get me peeling that sexy black dress right off your body.

  Kingston: With my teeth.

  Kingston: So … I think it’s safe to say I won that bet.

  Ellie: Maybe.

  Kingston: Maybe nothing. That was a shutout, little girl.
r />   Ellie: Yes, it was.

  Kingston: So, when do I get to collect my winnings?

  Ellie: You’ll have to wait until I actually wear the dress.

  Kingston: So Saturday night, then? It’s a good thing I won’t be back in town until Friday. I’m not sure how I’ll manage to wait that long.

  Ellie: You’re ruthless, you know that, right?

  Kingston: I’m not ruthless. I’m determined.

  Ellie: Determined to what?

  Kingston: To have my wicked way with you. I’ve dreamt about it for years, Ellie. Years.

  Ellie: I find that hard to believe.

  Kingston: Well, I’ll prove it to you.

  Ellie: How will you do that?

  Kingston: Just wait until I get my hands on you for the first time. You’ll know.

  19

  Kingston

  Thursday, October 27th

  I’m not sure Ellie realizes what she did to me when she sent that picture on Sunday. Ever since I got it, I’ve been worthless. Seriously fucking worthless.

  Well, mostly. I think the fact that we won Tuesday’s game might be partially to her credit. Those promises she made helped me to keep my focus. I was not going to allow anyone to take that from me. Unfortunately, I have to wait until Saturday to collect my winnings. The mere thought makes my body harden.

  Since we’ve got a game tonight, I should be focused on that, but instead, I continue to think about how fucking hot she looked in that sexy black dress. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m on the ice, I would’ve pulled up the image and drooled over it a little more. As it is, I jacked off to it every damn night this week, unable to help myself. I’ve been doing my best to battle my pent-up sexual frustration, and that picture sent me right over the edge.

  It’s rare that Ellie wears a dress. Very rare.

  But holy fuck… The woman should wear them all the time. The way the black material hugs her superb body and shows off her amazing legs… Damn. I want those legs wrapped around me.

  A puck smacks me square in the chest, and despite the pads, it knocks the wind out of me. I look up and see Spencer grinning wide.