Rookies Say It Better
Book 2 in The Minor League Mayhem Series
Heather C. Myers
Contents
1. Alec
2. Noah
3. Alec
4. Noah
5. Alec
6. Noah
7. Alec
8. Noah
9. Alec
10. Noah
11. Alec
12. Noah
13. Alec
14. Noah
15. Alec
16. Noah
17. Alec
18. Noah
19. Alec
20. Noah
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Acknowledgments
1
Alec
“I told you, I didn’t fuck her.”
Alec Sinclair wasn’t prone to having to explain his sexual exploits, especially not to his employee. Then again, he didn’t exactly work for a nine-to-five company.
“I believe you.”
Seraphina Hanson had a gaze that could pin a grown man to his chair. The fact that Alec was nineteen - nearly twenty - didn’t make a difference. She had this unmistakable power that kept men doing whatever she wanted. It probably had to do with her power - being in charge of an NHL team was one of the most powerful positions there were. And, like her grandfather before her, she didn’t just own the team, she managed it as well.
“The problem is, other people aren’t going to believe you because of the perception they have of you,” Seraphina continued, lacing her fingers together and keeping them on the surface of her desk. “Witnesses say the two of you were flirting at Ultra last night. It’s not helping that she’s running her mouth to anyone who will listen that the two of you did, in fact, fuck.”
Alec blinked. He didn’t think he had heard Seraphina actually say that word before. Normally, she was all business. Being a woman in a man’s club made it difficult for her to be taken seriously. After winning the Stanley Cup after three years, she earned more respect. And more haters. A lot of people in the hockey realm considered the win a fluke, and they had no problem bringing up the fact that she was sleeping with her goal tender as evidence that she was unfit to do the job she inherited after her grandfather died.
“Well, she’s lying.” Alec ran his fingers through his hair, clenching his teeth together and bouncing his knee up and down. The one night he doesn’t bring anyone home, the one night, he actually behaved himself, he was completely getting screwed over.
“I know she is.”
“Can’t you just sue her?” he asked. He couldn’t keep his hands still. He wanted to stand up. He wanted to pace this fancy office that overlooked the beautiful view of the ocean that was located just across the street of the Ice Palace. “For... what’s that word where they slandering my name and my character?”
“Libel?” Seraphina asked.
“Yeah, that.”
“We could,” she allowed. “Even though the burden would be on her to prove that what she said was true, people would be more inclined to believe her.”
“And why is that?”
Seraphina sighed, looking away. Alec suddenly felt like a child and he stilled his body. His cheeks pinched and even though she was probably only ten years older than he was, he couldn’t help but feel like he was still so naive.
“Because it’s not like you hide your behavior, Alec,” she pointed out. “Look, I don’t care about your personal life. You’re a good forward, and that’s why I have you on the Mayhem. But when my players start to get attention for things off the ice, that’s when I need to step in and assess the situation.”
“Like the other Alec?”
“Yes,” she said crisply. Alec could tell it wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss but the fact that she was willing to in order to make her point made him realize how important this was to her. “That was an unfortunate situation, but we got through it. And I’m sure we’ll be able to get through this one as well.” She leaned back in his chair, glancing across the room.
Alec followed her gaze and found that she was looking at a picture of her grandfather. He was much younger in the photo and he was smiling. Alec has no idea how old he was but he knew Ken Brown was the founder of the team. There would be no Newport Beach Seagulls without him, which meant there would be no Irvine Mayhem either.
“I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you can’t sleep with girls,” she said finally, looking back at him. “I’m not here to control what happens to you and your personal life. What matters is people are starting to look at you like, well, like a man slut.”
Alec’s eyes went wide. “Are you-are you slut-shaming me?” he asked.
“I could only be slut-shaming you if you were an actual slut,” Seraphina said. “I actually think that word is meaningless. You are someone comfortable with your sexuality. I get that. Again, it’s not my place to control what you do. Quite frankly, I don’t want to. I’m not your mother. What I do need is for you to maybe slow it down.”
“Slow it down?” Alex had no idea what she meant by that.
“You know how some players thrive with sex?” she asked.
Again, Alec was surprised by what the two of them were discussing. When Seraphina Hanson asked to speak with him after practice, he wasn’t expecting a conversation about his sex life. He didn’t think anyone actually cared.
“Look, can I interject here?” He leaned forward, his mind racing, trying to make sense of what was going on without being rude. “I don’t think it’s fair that my sex life is on trial here. So what if some girl is saying that I had sex with her. I’m a hockey player. She’s bragging about it. Why is that an issue? This is bound to happen, whether it’s me or any player in the league. I’m sure Skaarsgard got his shard of pu- of action. I’m sure he still does. I don’t see him in this office being lectured for it.”
Seraphina narrowed her eyes. “You want to know why Skaarsgard isn’t getting a lecture?” she asked, her voice firm and slightly annoyed. “It’s because he’s not acting like a child. You are a hockey player. You have the potential to be in the major leagues. But you’re so focused on the fact that you’re barely twenty, you’re making lots of money, and you’re a good-looking kid that you’ve shifted focus from the game to the acclaim. Newsflash, Alec. You’re an AHLer. No one remembers you. You want to be brought up? Stop fucking every girl with a heartbeat and put that time into bettering your game.”
Alec’s eyes went wide and he scoffed.
“What?” she asked, narrowing her green eyes at him. “Did I hurt your feelings? Despite what you may think of yourself, you are not an NHL player. Not yet, anyway. Not with your attitude. Being successful doesn’t just mean you have the skill. You need to develop the mindset as well. And right now, you don’t have it.”
“I’m on the ice every morning, seven days a week, trying to get better,” Alec snarled. He didn’t want to raise his voice. It would be akin to throwing a tantrum, and the last thing he needed was to prove Seraphina right, that he was a child, that he didn’t deserve this opportunity. “So don’t sit there behind your fancy desk telling me that I’m not doing enough. It’s one thing to observe play. It’s one thing to make your assumptions from your office. But you don’t know me and you don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“Don’t you think that’s a problem?” Seraphina pointed out. Her voice was still firm but there was no hint of frustration in her tone. “You’re my player and I don’t know what you’re capable of. Do you want to know why I don’t kno
w what you’re capable of? It’s because you aren’t showing me. Practicing is good. It shows discipline, and that’s always a good thing. But what you need is focus. What you need is to forget about the status being a hockey player brings you. You’re an AHLer. That’s like when hockey moms scream their lungs out after their kid scores goal fifteen to two. You think you’re the shit? You’re nothing. Go win a Cup and then grab some of that attitude back. For now, you’re a pathetic kid who thinks he’s better than what he actually is.”
Alec’s nostrils flared. He had never been dressed down like that by any of his coaches because he was always the best player in the team. In fact, he had been the kid on the team the coach would instruct everyone to pass to. He was always the best and Alec didn’t think that would change at all, even in the minor leagues.
“You can’t talk to me like this,” Alec said, standing up and pointing a finger at her. “I’ve been nothing but professional with every event I’m required to attend. But telling me how to behave in my personal life? You have no right.”
Seraphina nodded, almost as though she was expecting this. “You are correct,” she said. “I can’t tell you how to behave when the skates are off. But I can tell you that if I don’t like what I see in your personal life, I can fire you. Talk to your agent and look in your contract if you don’t believe me. Whether you’re wearing the jersey or not, you represent this team. And I will not have my team fuck the kinds of people who show screenshots of you drinking alcohol and making out. This should infuriate you, Alec. You should not want to be remembered for this. You should want to be remembered for your game.”
Alec was ready to argue. Seraphina had no business telling him how to behave off the ice. He never took fans home from charity events and only flirted with them after a game. If they happened to be at the nightclub some of the team went to afterwards, that wasn’t exactly his fault.
However, something stopped him. It could have been his mother’s voice, it could have been his younger sister Lily’s voice. Hell, it could have been Jack’s voice for all he knew. But something inside of him told him to wait. To not argue. To hear her out.
As much as he wanted to tell Seraphina he would do what he wanted, Seraphina was his boss. Seraphina dictated what happened and when. Maybe she couldn’t kick him off the team, but she could instruct the coach not to play him. His minutes could be drastically cut – or worse. He could be a healthy scratch for the majority of the games, and if no one saw him play, he couldn’t make a case to get traded.
Not that he wanted to. He wanted to play for the Gulls. He wanted to continue to play for the Mayhem. His family was here. His best friend was here. Which meant he needed to at least hear Seraphina out.
He let out a sigh. It was as close to admitting defeat as he could make it.
“Fine,” he said. “I do, want to be remembered for my game. I’ll stop.”
“It’s not that simple.” She shook her head. “Not now.”
Alec furrowed his brow. His heart jumped to his throat. Did that mean he was screwed? Was she already looking to trade him, even though the season barely began?
“Look,” he said. He never thought he would be above begging, but now, he was desperate. He wasn’t good at a lot of things. He had been average in school at best. There was a reason he decided to play hockey right after being drafted rather than trying to go to college. His strength was not school, and that was fine with him. But if he got kicked out before he had a chance to really prove himself, he’d probably have to do something menial and boring and that paid minimum wage. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“Alec, I don’t want you to suddenly stop having fun. I don’t want to be the fun police,” she said. “But we need to do immediate repairs to your reputation. We need to get our fans to think you’re taking the sport seriously.”
“And how do you figure we do that?” he asked.
“I’m glad you asked.” Seraphina leaned back in her chair and smiled. “We’re going to find you a girlfriend.”
2
Noah
Noah Stone slammed her back against her door, digging her heels into the stained carpet. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out the pounding on the door. It vibrated against her body, rolled through her like the earthquakes she experienced every now and again living in Southern California for her whole life.
But this was much scarier than an earthquake. Earthquakes were nature; this was personal.
“I know you’re in there, Noah,” the familiar voice barked.
Her shoulders jumped up to her ears and she shuddered. She shook her head once, twice, but she couldn’t seem to get him out of her ear. He was like a spider, crawling on her bare skin, causing her to tense and squirm. She was never able to pull him off of her, even if she wanted to.
“You can run, my friend, but you can’t hide. You knew I’d come looking for you.”
Noah swallowed but it did nothing for her dry throat. Her head started to throb with how hard she clenched her teeth together. She needed to make sure he couldn’t hear her breathing. Part of her wanted to cover her mouth with her hands but she couldn’t risk releasing the door. She knew she wasn’t the heaviest of women; in fact, if she didn’t have a deadbolt specifically in place for this sort of thing, she highly doubted the door would have held. The hinges were rusted and she didn’t know the last time Juanchez replaced anything in this shitty apartment.
Please just go away. Please just go away.
“I’m coming for you, princess. I know where you live. Maybe not today, but I’m coming for you. Remember – you’re mine.”
Noah held her breath, waiting. The door stayed still. When nothing more happened, she popped open one eye. Her body was still tense. She didn’t trust that he was gone. It couldn’t be that easy.
She released a breath after another minute rolled by and nothing happened.
“Okay,” she said to herself, so soft she wasn’t sure if she actually spoke at all. She just felt her lips move. “Okay.”
She closed her eyes again, focusing on any sounds she could hear that might hint at the fact that she wasn’t alone, that he was still waiting outside for her to make some sort of jump. He had a tendency to wait until she was comfortable, until she let her guard down, before pouncing.
After another moment, she pressed her palms flat on the door and pushed herself up. Her toes uncurled and she winced. They had bundled so tightly together that she hadn’t even felt them until now.
A siren wailed outside. Someone whistled. A street vendor called out something in Spanish. Kids laughed at the apartment complex across the street. These were all sounds Noah had gotten used to, living in downtown Santa Ana. But she wasn’t listening for the familiar, she was waiting for the outlier.
Okay, I think he’s gone.
Noah pushed off the door, shoving her shaking fingers into her pockets and batting her eyes. She didn’t care if she cried or not, but she didn’t want to waste any more time on feeling sorry for herself.
So, he found her. So what? Sure, that made her life infinitely more complicated. She would have to move out immediately. It would suck because she finally learned her neighbors’ names and thought the three-year-old who watched Paw Patrol on repeat from one to three o’clock in the afternoon was adorable, but she expected that something like this would happen. It was why she packed light since moving out of her mother’s places.
Noah closed her eyes, shuddering. She didn’t want to think about what had happened to her mother. Because of her.
“Nut up, buttercup,” she said, the words re-energizing her and helping her focus on the task at hand.
She headed to the sink in her kitchen and opened the storage container where she kept her trash bags before walking into her bedroom. If she knew Aaron, which she did, she knew he’d be back within the next forty-eight hours. She didn’t have much time.
Noah opened her sliding closet door and began to shove all of her clothes into a trash bag. Sh
e didn’t have anything fancy, couldn’t afford something as simple as a suitcase. After she finally left Aaron, she left everything behind, including the locket her Nona had gotten her for her tenth birthday the month before she passed away as well as the prom dress her mother had saved up for, for three months just so Noah could wear something new to the prom last year.
Now is not the time to think about that.
What happened, happened. That was in the past. She would not wallow. Wallowing never helped anyone move forward and all she wanted to do was move forward, start over. Hell, if she was able to start over and forget everything, she would. Until that was possible, she would always take one step forward and then another and deal with the memories at night where they haunted her dreams.
When she finished emptying her closet, she went into her bathroom. She looked at what she had – lotion, a candle that smelled like vanilla and lavender, a couple of towels, some old makeup, a toothbrush, some Q-tips. She had a couple of sandwich bags she could fit those things in without worrying it would get all over her clothes.
After a quick dash to the pantry to grab the plastic bags, she went back to the bathroom and grabbed her toiletries. She tried to make everything as neat as possible but knew that that probably wouldn’t happen.
A thump caused her to nearly bang her head on the toilet. She hissed and looked behind her, waiting. Maybe she had celebrated too soon. Maybe Aaron wasn’t so easily disposed of, even temporarily.
Part of Noah wanted nothing more than to close my bathroom door, lock it, and wait it out. She wasn’t a hero. She had nothing to prove. And, for a moment, she allowed herself to consider it. She craned her neck over her shoulder and eyed the bath tub. It was the perfect place for her to hide out should she need it.
Rookies Say It Better: Book 2 in The Minor League Mayhem Series Page 1