Page 5 of Pucking Dirty

"Nice to meet you, Emilia." Nash pulls open the locker room door, strolling through it. I may or may not stare at his ass the whole time. I'll never tell.

"You okay, kid?" my dad asks.

I startle, quickly yanking my gaze up.

"Fine," I mumble, and then press my hands to my overheated cheeks, staring at him with wide eyes. "You could have warned me not to go in there!"

He rubs the back of his neck, chuckling ruefully. "Well, shit, Em. I figured you'd call me when you got here, not burst right in."

I eye him sideways. Does he even know me at all? "When have I ever knocked on a door?"

"Good point." He strides forward, pulling me into a tight hug. I squeeze him back, resting my head on his broad shoulder fora minute. I've missed him like crazy. I've always been a daddy's girl. "Were they nice to you?"

"I'm going to need brain bleach to unsee what I saw, especially if I'm going to be helping out around here, but they were fine, Dad. Very respectful," I promise.

"What was going on with Nash?" He pulls back to look at me, suspicion lingering in his gaze. "That didn't look like him comforting you. He was in boxers."

"And I was a deer in the headlights with a team of naked hockey players. Naked hockey players who I'll be discussing mental health things with in two weeks, I might remind you. Would you have preferred that he left me in there? He was just being helpful."

"You sure? I'll send his ass down to our minor league team if I need to do it, Emilia," he says, his hazel eyes completely serious. "If you're going to be working for the team, I don't want them thinking they can fuck around with you. If I need to make an example of someone to drive that fact home, I'll do it."

"Dad," I protest, my heart clenching at the thought of him sending Nash to the minor league team in Pennsylvania. "That's insane!"

"You come first, kid. You aren't getting mixed up with one of these guys. I know exactly what kind of trouble they can be. I used to be one of them. How do you think I met your mom?"

I've heard that story before. My mom was a fan of the team. My dad was a fan of my mom. And she wasn't a fan of motherhood or being tied down. When she got pregnant and he asked her to marry him, she opted out.

It's just been the two of us since.

I still see her occasionally, but we've never been close. I've never known her enough to miss her when she's not around. She's just the woman who gave birth to me but didn't want the responsibility. My dad is the MVP who stuck it out. He's the onewho gave up everything to give me an incredible life. As far as I'm concerned, he's a hero.

He drops a kiss on my head. "Let me go light a fire under their asses, and then I'll show you to your office."

"Sure," I say weakly, watching as he strides into the locker room. I swallow hard, leaning against the wall. Looks like my fun with Nash Whatley is officially over. There's no way I'm going to risk him being sent down just because I like him. It's just not worth his career. He was born to play, not to throw it all away for his coach's daughter.

"It was fun while it lasted," I mutter, sighing heavily. At least I got good fantasy material out of it. That'll have to do because my dad was serious. He will absolutely send him down to make an example of him. And then I'll forever be the girl who ruined Nash Whatley's career. Exactly like I ruined my dad's.

I do not need that bad juju following me around. No, thank you.

Chapter Two

Nash

"Holy shit," Logan says, a bark of laughter erupting from his lips as we sit at our usual booth at the back of the Players' Club on one of the upper levels of the arena. "The lizard dick chick is here."

"Fuck," I mumble, sloshing beer across the table as I glance up, immediately doing a sweep of the bar. I fling the sticky liquid off, my dick turning to stone when I spot Emilia practically dancing her way across the room toward the bar, her dimples on full display as she laughs to herself.

Jesus H. Christ, she's gorgeous.

Her black hair is pinned up on top of her head with pieces hanging free around her heart-shaped face. Dark, sooty lashes frame her stunning gold eyes. Her soft blue sweater dress skims her body, hinting at the lush curves I had beneath my hands just one week ago.

I've thought of little but those curves and those dimples since. As soon as I walked out of the shower and saw her standing in the locker room, my goddamn heart stopped. I can't even explain what happened. I just know I wanted her away from my teammates and all to myself, pronto.

"The lizard dick chick? What the fuck, Logan?" Archer shakes his head in disgust. "She has a name."

Logan smirks at him, throwing an arm over the back of the leather booth. "Yeah, but lizard dick chick is more fun to say."

"Says the motherfucker who spends half of his life talking to himself in a net," Jordan mutters.

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