Hooking

by Allen, Kristine

  Slowly, he advanced on me. Since my office was small and the desk had one end against the wall, I had inadvertently trapped myself when I stepped behind it. Holding my hands out, I intended to ward him off, but he didn’t stop until my hands were pressed to his chest.

  Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

  I jumped when I realized my hands had traveled down to slide over his abdomen. My gaze shot up to his heavily lidded one. “Don’t stop,” he rasped.

  Snatching them away like he was on fire, I hugged myself to keep from reaching out for him again. Because lordy, did I want to more than anything. I tried to reason with him. “Alex, you need to leave. This is inappropriate.”

  “Inappropriate? What’s inappropriate is us denying the attraction we have to each other. That night was probably the best sex I’ve ever had,” he murmured as he leaned in and inhaled deeply as he pushed his nose into my hair.

  “Alex, please don’t do this,” I weakly pleaded. His proximity was doing crazy things to my heart and mind. Not to mention my body—because it vividly remembered how he’d made it sing.

  “Don’t do what? Don’t want you? Impossible.” His hands had yet to touch me since shaking my hand earlier, but his breath on my ear was sending shivers of desire down my spine.

  “I could lose my job,” I weakly argued, though I wasn’t 100 percent sure that was true.

  “No one needs to know,” he whispered into my ear, and his hands reached out to caress my hips over my pencil skirt. I shuddered the moment he made contact. Working their magic on my body, they massaged and gripped everywhere he could reach. At that moment, I was ready to throw caution to the wind, yank my skirt up, and lie back on my desk.

  Until there was a knock on the door.

  I blinked and he was on the other side of my desk, sprawled in the small chair there. He dwarfed it to the point it was almost comical.

  The door opened, and Katie stuck her head in. Surprise lit her eyes when she saw Alex in my office. “Alex? What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He casually looked over his shoulder and gave her that disarming grin of his. “Hey, Katie! I had some ideas for the photo shoot that I thought I’d run by Sydney, since you weren’t in your office.”

  “Really? That’s great!” Katie fell under his spell so easily that it almost made me want to scratch her eyes out. Which was insane, because I adored her and I’d never been a jealous person before. Especially considering Alex was a guy I wasn’t in a relationship with.

  When he told her his ideas, I was floored. Had he actually come up with that on the spot, or had he really thought about it before he came to see me?

  “Come over to my office and I’ll see if I can get the ball rolling on that,” Katie said. She gave me a cheerful wave and walked out the door.

  He stood and followed Katie to her office without looking back. He walked out like I was nobody. Certainly not the person he’d been ready to molest two minutes ago in my office. It left me feeling a little bitter. Had he simply been playing me?

  Ugh, what the hell was wrong with me? It didn’t matter, because nothing further could happen between us.

  Alex Kosinski was officially off-limits.

  And I hated it.

  “Misunderstood”—Seether

  October—Season Opener

  It was Thursday night. Our first game was on home ice. That was a good sign for me. I was superstitious, as were a lot of hockey players. People thought baseball players cornered the market on superstition, but we were probably worse. We all had our pregame routines, and mine was a carryover from my childhood.

  “Where’s my Ding Dong?” I shouted out into the locker room as I searched everywhere. It was always waiting with my gear. Except I’d dressed in my usual order and laced my skates, only to realize it wasn’t there.

  “Check your underwear, Kosinski!” Baranov yelled from his side of the room. Laughter filtered through the locker room.

  “Fuck off! Where’s my motherfuckin’ Ding Dong? This isn’t funny!” Though I tried to fight the panic clawing at my throat, I was shaking. It may seem stupid, but it started with my very first hockey game. I’d been whining that I was hungry. Dad and Mom told me I’d just finished eating, but I’d been insistent that I would surely die if I didn’t eat something. One of the other moms had produced a Ding Dong that I’d proceeded to shove in my mouth.

  We won the game. Something settled in my brain that it was because of that goddamn Ding Dong before the game. From then on, I had to have one before each game. I never ate the shit at any other time, but before a game, I had to have one.

  “Kosinski!” Beck yelled. I whipped in his direction.

  “What?” I angrily replied.

  “Think fast!” The wrapped Ding Dong sailed toward me, and I snagged it out of the air.

  “Assholes,” I muttered as they all laughed. Then I unwrapped the stupid snack cake and shoved it in my mouth, finishing it in two bites. “I don’t fuck with your little habits,” I muttered around a mouthful of chocolate cake. It had to be the chocolate ones, too. None of that vanilla shit or the other random flavors that popped up every so often.

  “Are you really gonna go out there with that chocolate shit in your teeth?” Novacek asked, repulsion heavy in his accented voice. He’d been traded to us right at the end of the preseason, and this was the first game of the season he would be playing with us as a right wing to Heikkenen’s left.

  In my opinion, he was going to be a great addition to the team. Not only was he a smart player, he had good hands, and hell if he couldn’t find the back of the net like nobody’s business. I wished they would switch him and Halvorson out. Then again, despite our off-ice animosity, Halvorson and I made a great team on the ice.

  Along with Dmitry Kalashnik, Andreas Papadopoulos, and Nathanial Sinner, they made up the new faces for the team. Yeah, his last name was really Sinner. It was nice not to be the new kid on the block anymore. Each one of them brought a certain strength to the team, but to integrate everyone took some adjustments. A few were resistant to it; the rest of us realized that it was the name of the game.

  Dmitry was a great addition, and we’d been lucky to get him. He was Baranov’s cousin, and they were fierce together.

  “Yeah, I am.” I wasn’t, but I couldn’t help fucking with the burly Czech as I smiled with a mouthful of black between my teeth.

  He curled his lip and muttered, “Crazy Americans.”

  With a chuckle, I took a swig of water, swished it, and swallowed. Jordan Beck chuckled as he quietly laced his skates. McGregor removed his earbuds and pulled his jersey on. After he’d listened to a specific playlist, he wrapped up his pregame rituals with his jersey going on right before we headed out of the locker room door.

  As we approached the ice, the chanting from the crowd amplified. Fans stood by the barricades and held their hands out. My gloved hand trailed along above my head to snag them as I passed.

  The second my first blade hit the frozen surface, my heart jumped. Adrenaline surged in my system as I experienced the thrill of the game. No matter how many times I stepped out onto the ice, it was always like the first time.

  “Let’s do this, boys! Let’s have some fun here!” Halvorson yelled as we started warm-ups. Biscuits slung at Beck left and right, and he blocked the majority of them like his life depended on it. I was thankful that he had a no-trade clause, because he was a wall. It was a challenge to score any time I’d played against him last season.

  He swapped out with Bergström, our alternate goaltender. Bergström was young, but also had a lot of promise. I liked him right off the bat.

  Like a machine, I went through the motions of warm-ups, pregame pep talks from the coaches, and finally standing on the ice as the National Anthem was belted out. Hand over my heart, I swelled with pride to be starting in the first game of the season. It would’ve driven me nuts to sit on the bench.

  The puck dropped, and it was a wicked battle, with Michigan on their A-game. They scor
ed the first goal of the night, and though it left me with an ache in my chest, it built up a fierce determination in us all. Beck was hot as a motherfucker, but he reeled it in, and I saw the burning in his eyes.

  That was the only goal they succeeded in getting past him for the rest of the game.

  In the second period I got thrown in the penalty box after I hooked one of the dickheads that kept getting into Beck’s crease. As I stormed into the penalty box, I happened to look up, and what I saw blew me away.

  Sydney sat up several rows and over from the penalty box. Our eyes locked, and my chest tightened. It didn’t look like she was with the people on either side of her, and I had to wonder what made her go to a hockey game alone.

  We won the game, thanks to Heikkinen’s wraparound for a last-minute score. As we skated off the ice, I glanced in the direction of Sydney’s seat, but she was gone. The entire time the coaches were praising us, through my rushed shower, and in my quick exit from the stadium, I wondered if she’d be waiting.

  It had been a month of sexually frustrating moments. Every interaction I had with Sydney for the foundation, she ensured we weren’t alone. Anytime I tried her office, the door was locked—she was either out or hiding from me.

  When I got out to my car, I was unsurprised but disappointed that she wasn’t leaning against my vehicle. Despite how irrational my thoughts were, I found myself bummed by the fact that she wasn’t there. As if she’d know which vehicle was mine and be able to get access to the lot we parked in. As if she’d be there at all. I thought that her being at the game meant something.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  “You want to go grab a beer?” McGregor shouted from over by his truck. Normally, I would’ve said sure, but we had an early flight in the morning to Nashville for our first of three away games. It was a five-day road trip with the last game in Pittsburgh before we headed home.

  “Nah, I’m beat. Plus, I still need to pack and shit.” He raised a brow at me but didn’t say anything. It’s not like we packed much for the road, and he knew it. I did need to get all of Victor’s shit ready, though. He was going to stay with Cooper while I was gone. I’d taken him back to Minnesota with me over the summer, and this stretch would be the first time he would really be alone. I didn’t want him tearing up my shit if he got pissed.

  During the drive home, my thoughts returned to Sydney. What had she been doing at the game? Had she been there to watch me play? Then an uncomfortable thought found its way into my head. What if the reason she’d been adamant that we couldn’t see each other was because she was already seeing one of my teammates?

  Not all of us went home for the entire off-season. Some of the guys had families nearby.

  Fucking hell. Why hadn’t I asked her if she was seeing someone?

  Because your ego wouldn’t let you consider it. That small voice in my head pissed me off.

  After parking in the garage, I let myself into the house. Victor was yelling at me as soon as the door closed. He’d obviously missed me.

  I crouched down to pet him.

  “Hey, buddy. How’s my boy? You gonna be good for Uncle Coop?” I snickered at calling him Uncle Coop. Especially because I doubted I’d have kids for a long damn time. The thought of leaving my kid for stretches at a time didn’t sit well with me.

  My phone rang, and I stood, much to Victor’s displeasure.

  “Hey, Dad,” I answered.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d be home yet. That was a great game, son!” His praise had me grinning as my chest puffed out.

  “Thanks, that means a lot.”

  “Looks like you have a good starting lineup going. I really liked the look of Halvorson this year. And I think you’re right about Novacek. He brings experience and maturity to your line, and you seem to work well together.” I snorted when he mentioned Halvorson.

  “Yeah, now if Halvorson could stay off my ass when we aren’t on the ice.” There was a brief moment of silence.

  “Alex. There will always be players that test you. You won’t always be friends with everyone on your team. But setting those differences aside to play as a strong unit is what makes a good player great. I have faith in you.” My dad was full of wisdom, and I valued his opinion. He had a good head on his shoulders. It’s what had made him a great player and an even greater coach.

  “Trust me, I’m trying.”

  “You leave tomorrow for Nashville, then Boston?” he asked.

  “Yeah, then we’re off Monday, and then in Pittsburgh,” I replied with Victor rubbing against my legs. He let out a disgruntled meow.

  Dad chuckled. “Is that Victor?”

  “Yeah. Demanding little shit.” I reached down to pacify the big brat. I’d never considered myself a cat guy before, but Victor was different. He was a cool cat—a big-ass cat.

  “Well, give him some treats from me. Good luck in the away games, son. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks again. Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you too, son.”

  We ended the call, and I kicked off my shoes. After snagging them from the ground and returning them to their place in my closet, I flopped back on the bed. Curiosity getting the better of me, I pulled up my social media app. We all had one, but I rarely posted anything. I’d thought about looking her up before, but I’d held back. Hesitating, I fidgeted in agitation. Then, I typed in Sydney’s info.

  Several Sydney Drakes came up. The first one looked like it might be her but the image was small. We had some hockey-related mutual friends, so I clicked on it. Sure enough, there she was. Though her status noted she was single, her profile pic was of her kissing some dude on the cheek.

  A tight feeling spread through my chest, and I didn’t like it. Fuck, was that jealousy? I’d never been jealous when it came to a woman before. Then again, the number of actual relationships I’d ever had were limited. I rarely got attached, and I never gave women false hope.

  “Miss Sydney Drake, we have unfinished business,” I said with a smirk as I sent her a friend request.

  “Dangerous Night”—Thirty Seconds To Mars

  When I’d decided to utilize my ticket to the game, I told myself it was good for my job to understand the game a little more. I’d chosen to upgrade my seat to one closer to the ice to see the game better. Once I’d sat in my seat, I knew the truth was I’d wanted to see Alex Kosinski in action.

  Not that kind of action. I’d already seen that, and it was amazing.

  I’d wanted to see him on the ice.

  It had been riveting. I’d been on the edge of my seat most of the game. Not that I knew exactly what I was looking for, but Alex was a force on the ice. When the puck was in play, he and Kristoffer Halvorson seemed to work well together; any other time, they barely acknowledged each other.

  After the game was over, I hadn’t wanted to leave. I found myself sitting in the seat with a hockey hangover.

  I’d driven home buzzed with excitement from the rapid pace of the game.

  A notification had me slipping a bookmark in and closing my Teagan Brooks paperback to pick up my phone. Ever since the night I’d hooked up with Alex, I’d been addicted to MC romances. The irony wasn’t lost on me that I should’ve been reading hockey romance instead.

  I was a little surprised by what I saw on the screen.

  Alexander Kosinski had sent me a friend request.

  No. Way.

  I figured when I told him we couldn’t hook up again, he’d move on. Maybe it wasn’t really him.

  Right.

  The dude was bold as hell, why was I the slightest bit surprised?

  Clicking on the circular pic, I opened up his profile. It showed a picture of an Amur leopard as the profile pic. Scrolling through the profile, I noticed there were very few posts. We did have several mutual friends with the Amurs organization.

  Tapping the side of my phone as I bit my bottom lip, I debated whether or not to accept. Screw it. I clicked the blue accept button and stared at my
phone for a bit.

  Right when I was preparing to return to my hot biker book, my phone chimed. My pulse raced as I wondered if it was him, but I was afraid to look. The phone chimed again, and I hesitantly opened the app.

  Okay, that was a lie. I snapped it open as fast as I could unlock my phone.

  Alexander: Sydney? Amurs Foundation Sydney?

  Alexander: I saw you at the game tonight

  My heart that had been running a mile a minute suddenly lurched. Of course I knew he’d seen me, but I never expected him to try to contact me. He was a professional athlete. He was famous. I’d honestly expected he’d have gone out with his teammates and gone home with some random chick. I knew they flew out early tomorrow, though. Maybe he’d gone home?

  But still. He was contacting me?

  Deciding to bite the bullet since he knew I’d seen his messages, I replied.

  Me: Yes. It was a good game

  Oh my God. Why didn’t I say something cooler than that? I was lame as hell.

  The little bubble with dots popped up, and my heart went crazy again. If it kept up, I’d likely stroke out before the night was over.

  Alexander: Did you come to watch me play?

  Nothing like jumping in with both feet. He had no shame, obviously.

  Me: I thought it would be a good idea to watch you and Halvorson play since I’d be working closely with you both

  I winced at how ridiculous that sounded.

  Alexander: Ouch. And here I thought maybe you couldn’t resist my charm

  A smile crept over my face. He really was pretty charming when he wasn’t being cocky, but even when he was cocky, he was sexy as hell.

  Me: What charm would that be?

  Teasing him had me feeling a little giddy, and it shouldn’t. Because I shouldn’t be encouraging him. We had to work together.

  Alexander: Double ouch