Eric stared at me from across the table, a goofy, awe-inspired grin on his face.
“What?” I asked, glancing down, worried I’d spilled the red sauce all over my white thermal. Luckily, for once, it was spotless.
“You,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned closer over the table. “You may be the coolest woman I’ve ever met.”
I snorted just to prove how uncool I was. “Think you’re getting me mixed up with, Ivy.”
He furrowed his brow. “Not a chance,” he said. “I just...” he sighed. “Think you’re amazing.”
Heat swept across my skin, and I shifted in my seat. “You’re pretty stellar yourself, Iron Man.” I nodded toward the destroyed spread in front of us. “This place is legit. Going on my new favorite’s list.”
“Oh,” he said. “Am I on that list?”
“Iron Man is,” I teased.
“You keep placing me up there with all your favorite heroes and one day it’ll give me a big head.”
I laughed. “That would be terrible,” I said. “You’re the most down-to-earth player I’ve ever met. An ego would ruin you.”
“Then stop making me feel like a king.”
I swallowed hard, hating that all I wanted to do was climb over the table and straddle him, kiss him, taste him, explore him. Not that I would even if we were allowed, but we weren’t. I couldn’t even scoot my chair close enough to touch him without being afraid.
“You’re right,” I said, trying to keep it light and shove my serious thoughts away. “I should treat you worse. Punish you a bit. Or work you harder.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, his green eyes churning. “You ready for the check?”
I nodded, my heart racing from the way he looked at me—like I was the only dessert he craved.
A buzzing from my pocket jolted me out of the sexy-as-sin stare-down. I fished out my cell, my eyes popping at the notification.
The Shark’s New Statistician and Crosby Stanton Heat Things Up
I clicked on the link with held breath.
And there, clear as day, was a picture of Crosby and Ivy, mid-lip-lock, his hand on her ass, and hers tangled in his hair. They were coming out of Warren Kinley’s wife’s restaurant Nine’s. One of the most well-known spots to find Sharks.
But of course, how would they know it was Ivy in the picture and not me? People who knew us had a hard time telling us apart, and wouldn’t it make more sense that, me, who worked for the Sharks, would be all over a player?
I eyed Eric across the table who was focused on paying our waiter. Finished, he turned back to me, instantly noting the difference in my features.
“What’s wrong?”
Shaking my head, I slid my cell across the table.
It took him a few seconds to process it. “Fuck.”
Exactly.
Chapter 12
Eric
Rage simmered just beneath my surface as I arrived to practice the next morning. Pepper and I were being so damn careful, and yet Crosby and Ivy had basically flaunted their forbidden relationship until it became front-page tabloid news.
I pushed open the locker room doors with both hands and they sailed into the walls behind them with a thought that was not nearly as satisfying as I needed.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I shouted at Crosby before I saw that Bentley, Lukas, and Connor had already beaten me to the punch.
“Fuck, not you too,” Crosby fired back, ripping his gear angrily from his locker.
“Yes, me too. How could you be so damned careless? Nine’s? Why didn’t you just kiss her on the Jumbotron?” I hissed.
“You are seriously going to rag on me about this?” Crosby stood and stepped around the guys who had apparently already begun his lecture.
“Coach is gonna have your ass,” Connor said with a shake of his head.
“What would you know about it?” Crosby questioned, throwing a glare at Connor over his shoulder.
“I know enough to stay far away from the Harris twins. We were all there, Crosby. We all heard him say to keep our hands off his daughters. Your ass is on the line. Hell, Lucas fucks everything in sight, and even he knew better than to go after one of those two.” Connor walked back to his locker, muttering something about Crosby being an asshole.
“Guy’s, come on. Coach isn’t going to do a thing. I’m one of the best players on the team, and you know he’s not gonna jeopardize the season over a kiss. Besides, Bentley over here broke the rules too, and he’s still on the team.” Connor gestured toward Bentley, who was rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“First off, asshole, Chloe and I had history. This is not the same thing. Second, the fact that you were even willing to jeopardize our season over someone you consider to be a piece of ass is unthinkable.” Bentley got right up in his face. “And don’t you ever compare what Chloe and I have to your sex life. Ever.”
“Damn,” Crosby snapped, throwing his hands up like he was under arrest. “Everyone’s so touchy today. Nothing’s going to happen. Watch. It’ll be a non-issue. And why the hell aren’t you riding Gentry like this?”
My jaw locked to keep me from saying something stupid.
“Because he wasn’t the one sucking cheeks in a public place with the Harris twin,” Lukas answered as he strapped on his shin guards.
“Face,” I corrected Lukas. “It’s called sucking face.”
Crosby arched an eyebrow in my direction. “And do you think you’re so much better than me?”
For the first time in my life, I didn’t have the moral high ground. In truth, Crosby and I were both doing the same thing. Pepper and I were simply being smarter about it than he and Ivy were. Who was I to question his emotions toward Ivy? No one knew what I really felt for Pepper. Maybe I was being the asshole here not giving Crosby the benefit of doubt. Maybe he really cared for her.
“You’re just pissed that I got the twin who was more than ready to jump on this Shark train,” Crosby said with a smirk that made me nearly go nuclear.
So much for giving him the benefit of the doubt.
“Coach asked Gentry to watch after Pepper,” Gage fired across the locker room. “Last time I checked, he’d warned every single Shark away from his daughters. I personally think you’re going to get your ass handed to you, and you deserve to.”
Shit. I’d been so engrossed in my anger that I hadn’t noticed more of the team arriving.
Anything else I had to say to Crosby would have to wait.
I pulled my gear down piece by piece and started to get ready for practice.
“So, are you tapping that yet?” Crosby asked in a whisper, having slid down the bench to sit next to me.
I saw fucking red.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that,” I growled. “And the fact that you’re willing to let Pepper’s name get dragged through the tabloid circus is a low move. Despicable.”
I kept my voice low but saw Connor watching us carefully.
“Relax, Gentry. I’m sure Coach will clear it up immediately. He’ll throw Ivy under the bus to save his precious Sharks’ reputation. It’s not like he can’t tell that it’s Ivy in the damned picture.” He dropped his voice even lower. “Or you could come clean and give Pepper an alibi since everyone knows she was with you. Hell she’s with you every night, isn’t she? Because she’s sure as hell not at home with Ivy, or I’d see her. What’s really going on with you two?”
He didn’t know. He could assume all he wanted, but Pepper and I had been so careful it bordered on paranoia. He could give me that look all he wanted. He didn’t know shit, and I was going to keep it that way. Pepper meant way more to me than any asinine attempt at a locker room scorecard.
“Pepper is none of your business,” I fired back in a hiss.
“Well, she sure as hell seems like she’s yours.” He gave me a cocky smirk. “Business, that is. Not yours in any other way, right? Because the super righteous Captain America of this team would ne
ver even contemplate breaking one of the coach’s rules, right?” He gave me another shit-eating grin and slid back to his seat, thank God.
“It’s Iron Man, asshole,” I muttered. Not that I had anything against Cap, but he kind of had a stick up his ass, and he sure as hell didn’t end up with Pepper. I did.
Lukas took his seat next to me and started to gear up. “You okay?” He asked as he tied his shorts.
“Yeah, just frus—”
My words died on my lips as Coach busted through the doors. His normally pale skin was flushed and there was a demon in his eyes I’d never seen before. My stomach hit the fucking floor. Gage had been right. Coach was going to hand Crosby his ass. I couldn’t help but wonder if a pink slip would come with it.
“What. The. Actual. Fuck?” Coach shouted at a decibel I’d never heard from his mouth. The locker room fell silent as he marched right up to Crosby. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
You could’ve heard a pin drop, and this was a rubber floor.
“Good afternoon, Coach?” Crosby answered like the smartass he was.
“Are you fucking serious? You think this is a laughing matter, Crosby? You’ve broken at least two Sharks’ rules.”
“Coach, come on.” Crosby tried to give him one of his careless this-is-no-big-deal smiles. “It was just a little kiss. Purely consensual.”