Page 12 of Face Off
I knew he would be a little arrogant, but hitting on me and not having a goddamn clue who I was threw me for a loop.
It’s not that I expected him to know everything about me.
He’s a professional athlete with half a dozen endorsement deals. Captain duties and a personal life that stretches to a hundred different women in a hundred different zip codes. Probably some in other countries too, and maybe one in Antarctica, just to prove he can.
But I expected a little more respect when I met him. Less eye-fucking and more professional courtesy. Now we’re off on the wrong foot, and it’s his fault.
The door to the boardroom opens, and I sit up straight. Coach Saunders slides back into the room and gives me a hesitant smile.
“I’m sorry about that, Emerson.”
“You can call me Emmy,” I say. “And I’m sorry too. I wasn’t an innocent party in that exchange, and I apologize for acting so immaturely. It’s not the first impression I wanted to give you.”
“Emmy, you could hit someone with a car in the parking lot and I’d find a way to have you on my team.” His smile turns softer. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I. Thank you so much for this opportunity. I know you’ve gone through several players while trying to find the perfect fit, and it means a lot to wear a Stars jersey.”
“I want you to know I didn’t bring you here to check a box or any bullshit like that,” Coach Saunders says. There’s a fierceness in his tone that wasn’t there before, and I feel horrible for initially assuming exactly that. “We want the best hockey playerson our team, and that includes you. I figured a solo session with Maverick would be beneficial before your first practice with the whole team, but now I’m second guessing myself.”
I grab the bag with my skates and pads off the floor. “We’ll be fine.”
“I hope so. I want this to work out, Emmy. There’s a restroom down the hall where you can change, and the rink is just past it. I’ll touch base with you after and see how things went.”
I give him a smile I hope doesn’t look as forced as it feels. “Can’t wait.”
I stand on center ice in the famed Civic Center, awestruck. Exhilaration like I’ve never felt before pounds in my chest, and I have to remind myself to breathe as I take off around the rink.
All the tension I’ve been holding onto this week melts away the longer I move. Packing up my apartment. The cross-country flight. A new team and a new normal.
I skate faster and harder until my muscles relax. Until it’s easier to breathe and the cool air fills my lungs.
After my sixth lap, I finally relax..
“Hey,” a deep voice calls out, and I glance over my shoulder. Maverick is standing on the edge of the ice in his practice gear. His hands are on his hips, and he makes the stick next to him look small. “What are you doing?”
“Skating,” I say innocently, just to piss him off. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and I give myself a point. “Is that allowed?”
“This is my rink. We’re going by my rules.”
“Funny. I didn’t see your name on the building, hot shot.”
“All I heard in that sentence was hot.”
“How do you plan on skating with that inflated head of yours?”
“I’m captain.”
“Congratulations. Since you like to tell people what to do, what do you have planned for the next hour? Are you going to waterboard me?”
There’s that dimple in his right cheek, and I hate the fucking thing. “Sounds kind of fun. Is thatone of your kinks?” Maverick smirks.
“You’re awfully interested in the sex life of someone who will never get in bed with you,” I say. “Do we need to get HR involved?”
“I love a good challenge. My determination is one of my best qualities.”
“Right up there with annoying as hell, probably.”
“I promised Coach I’d play nice, so we’ll do a 1v1 tag up,” he says.
