Page 10 of Dirty Pucking Player

If I had to be traded, at least it was to one of the poshest places I could’ve ended up. Fucking five stars on the Strip. Only the best of the best for Bash Fury…

As it should be.

I let the towel drop to the floor and sprawl out on the king-size bed. The soft mattress might as well be a cloud underneath my naked skin. I’ll sleep like a baby tonight, but for now, I grab the remote and flip through channels until I land on Lethal Weapon. Chuckling to myself, I relax against the headboard, letting the chilly air in the room dry the last of the moisture from my body.

A fucking classic if there ever was one. And exactly what I need to top off my night.

The massive flat-screen’s crystal-clear picture flickers in front of me, and surround sound speakers immerse me in the explosions and gunfire in the movie.

I could get used to this life.

Maid service. Room service. Perfect location. Even the flashing lights of the Strip coming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that make up one wall of the room can’t distract from my relaxation.

As far as first days go, I’ve had worse. Coach was certainly pretty pissed off after our little chat in the tunnel, but she’ll get over it if she knows what’s good for the team.

And I have no doubt she does.

She has an impressive résumé. Three-time All-American in college. Three Olympic medals—one bronze and two silver. Assistant coach for the men’s team that won gold in Pyeongchang…

The woman knows her hockey. It was only a matter of time before they gave the head coaching position to someone without a dick. I’m glad it was her, but I hadn’t anticipated her giving me quite so much shit right off the bat. She certainly isn’t a push-over. I may have underestimated Coach Greer Waterson. This head-to-head battle may go on longer than I could have anticipated before one of us finally breaks.

And I don’t intend for it to be me.

Though she seems determined to stand her ground.

Still, the way her skin flushed…

Christ…

My phone ringing on the nightstand pulls me away from another fantasy about bending Coach over the boards at the bench and against the glass and fucking her senseless.

I glance at the screen and grin as I swipe, instantly eviscerating those images from my head. “How’s my favorite little sister doing?”

Rachel chuckles, and is, no doubt, rolling her pale-green eyes at me. “Your only sister is doing great. I was just calling to see how my favorite brother did on his first day with the Scorpions.”

“Favorite brother? Does Jameson know that he’s been demoted?”

We laugh at that because we both know she tells him he’s the favorite, even though it’s always been me. He can think whatever he wants. We don’t want to damage his fragile ego.

“So,” she sing-songs, “tell me about your first day with the new coach. How was it?”

I lean back against the headboard again and stare up at the ceiling. “She was pretty much what I expected.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Strong-willed. You’d have to be as a female coach in the league. And to play the way she did.”

Rachel hums. “True. It’s one of the reasons she’s always been one of my idols.”

“I know, Rach.” Growing up, baby sis always insisted I watch the women’s national team games with her. She was in awe of Greer and her teammates even though Rach herself never had any interest in playing. “And she earned that role.”

“So…try not to make her hate you too much, Bash. I want her to actually be nice to me when I come to a game.”

I bark out a laugh, but I know she’s serious.

Little sister knows me too well.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I release a little snort. “Well, we had a bit of an issue this morning, but I think we’ve cleared the air and things will go a lot more smoothly moving forward.”

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