Page 54 of Dirty Pucking Player

Bash flashes a grin from the driver seat and then returns his focus to the road in front of us. The road that isn’t going toward the Prestige.

I twist in my seat to watch him and try to get a read on what he’s doing. A playful smirk curls his lips, and I heave out a sigh. “This is definitely not the way to your hotel.”

And I don’t have the energy to go anywhere else.

The game tonight was particularly brutal, as the final games of the season always are—a full sixty minutes of a drag-down, knockout fight, and then we still ended up in overtime and a shootout.

We got the win—one we badly needed to maintain our position in third in the conference going into our final game two days from now—but the guys are beat up, and we’re all utterly exhausted. The last two weeks since Bash got off his suspension have been nothing short of all-out war in the Pacific Division.

When Bash suggested relaxing tonight, I thought we’d be going back to his hotel, maybe taking a long, hot shower or bath together again, but this is the opposite direction, and the playful look he has means he’s up to something.

One thing I’ve learned very quickly about Bash since we started our—what? affair? relationship? fling?—whatever, is that he loves to play—literally and figuratively. Whether it be on the ice, in the bedroom, or in life, he’s always making moves.

“Trust me, Coach. We’re going somewhere you’ll be able to unwind and have a good time.”

“Bash, I’m not up for anything you consider ‘a good time.’” I use air quotes for emphasis. “I’m tired.”

A good time with him, more often than not, leaves me more exhausted than I was before it.

He barks out a laugh and reaches over to squeeze my thigh. “Coach, you canceled practice for tomorrow. That means tonight is a rare night I can take you somewhere without us worrying about getting up at the ass crack of dawn. So, just trust me.”

Trust Bash Fury?

Strangely, I do. The more time alone I spend with him, the more I come to realize that he isn’t just the persona he puts out in the media and on the ice. There are layers to Bash—ones I’m just beginning to peel back and unravel. Ones I’m not so sure anyone else has ever seen—save for maybe his closest friends and family.

Bash does his best to never show any cracks in his façade, but when we’re alone, when we’re together, that entire mask crumbles. He’s still cocky and arrogant and infuriating but in the best way possible. The way that leaves me panting and utterly spent almost every night. He deserves to be cocky about his skills in the bedroom, but when it’s just the two of us, I see the real person with real feelings and worries under all the bravado.

I sigh and rest my head back on the seat as I watch the Strip disappear behind us. “And you’re not going to tell me where we’re going?”

He stops at a red light and winks at me. “That would ruin the surprise, Coach.”

“I don’t know that I’m up for any surprises.”

But the little gifts Bash has been leaving for me are very sweet…and totally unexpected. Just another sign that he’s so much more than anyone gives him credit for.

I’ve never had anyone do anything like this for me before—little surprises on my desk every morning…

First, it was the cupcake with the Scorpions logo in icing—adorable, thoughtful, and delicious—along with the note that read:

Not as sweet as you. - S

Then came the gold puck-shaped keychain with the word “COACH” engraved on it and a card that said:

You are this team. – S

But the one that really got to me, the one that had me wondering if Bash could actually be the exact opposite of everything everyone believes, was the flower. A single red rose.

No note.

One wasn’t needed.

Given what happened the night before, it was clear what it meant.

It had been magical—unlike anything I’ve experienced with anyone else in my entire life.

Slow. Passionate. It was a connection—two bodies becoming one. No words were said because none were necessary. And the rose was the perfect acknowledgment of that.

If I didn’t know Bash and his reputation, if we hadn’t agreed this was just going to be fun until it stopped being that, I might even say he had made love to me. So, maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt that where he’s taking me tonight will be exactly what I need.

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