I shook off his touch. Waiting.
“Look, Crosby is gone,” he said, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “I know Coach will pull from the farm team. Will you put in a good word for me?”
And there it was. The sole reason Mason had paid me any attention since I’d moved back. It wasn’t because we’d once dated. It wasn’t because he wanted to be friends. He wanted my help.
“Or at least help me set up a sit-down with your dad?”
I snorted. “Dad doesn’t need to hear words to pick a player.”
Mason tilted his head.
“He needs to see. Goals. Steals. Assists. Everything on the ice. It doesn’t matter if you had dinner with him every Friday night for a year. And it sure as hell won’t matter if I say anything. You have to show him on the ice. Nothing else will do.”
Mason considered that for a moment before planting me with a cheesy grin. “Yeah,” he said, nudging me. “But all the rest of it couldn’t hurt, right? Please?”
I shook my head. “You know I can’t. I’m employed by the Sharks now. Conflict of interest and all that.”
“Can’t,” he said, his smile falling. “More like won’t. I just need a chance—”
“Hey, Pepper,” Eric’s voice cut off Mason’s plea. “Can I talk to you about my block stats for a second?”
Every inch of my skin tingled when I looked at him.
Freshly showered, hair tied in a knot at the base of his head, his ripped body covered in Under-Amour-post-game-wear.
“We were in the middle of something, Gentry,” Mason snapped.
“No,” I countered, glancing at Mason. “I told you, I can’t. I’m sorry.” I sighed and motioned to Eric to come on in.
We left Mason standing there as Eric shut the door of my office behind him.
I’d barely had enough time to get used to the small space—just a desk, computer, and sensible chair—but Eric’s presence filled it like there wasn’t an inch left. Somehow, seeing his tall, muscled frame standing before my desk made it ten times smaller.
I set my iPad down and gestured to him. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating with the guys right about now?”
He furrowed his brow, his eyes noting the distance between us despite the closed door. “Um,” he said, clearing his throat. “I wanted to celebrate with you.”
My heart flipped, my stomach melted, and then my nightmare from earlier coated everything in ice-cold fear.
“You did amazing tonight,” I said. “You should go live it up. Reward yourself.”
He smirked. “You’re the only reward I’d ever want.”
A cross between a sigh and a whimper escaped my lips.
“I’ve got so much work to do,” I said, and I hated myself a little for it. It was the truth, but it didn’t mean I wouldn’t want to wrap myself around him when I was finished. But, with everything that happened in the past few days…I needed thinking space.
“Did I do something wrong?” He asked stepping closer.
“No,” I said. “Of course not. I really have work.”
Eric reached for me, his hand trailing the length of my arm. “Then why don’t you head over after you’re done?”
I nodded, pulling away from his touch and walking behind the safety of my desk. I swiped my iPad and fired up my computer. “Depends on the time I get out of here.”
He tilted his head, the intensity in his eyes cracking every inch of resolve I had. I could see it there—the pain and the slight hint of understanding. “All right,” he said, shrugging those gloriously muscled shoulders of his.
Damn it, what am I doing?
I didn’t have a clue. That was why I needed a minute to think. I always knew my next step, next move, next everything. Everything I’d done since that first kiss with Eric had turned my world so upside down.
“I’ll text you when I’m done,” I said as he headed toward the door. Everything inside me begged to stop him, to lock the door and have him bend me over the desk.
“Sounds good,” he said, his tone low, gravely. He opened the door, one foot outside.
“Eric!” I blurted.
“Yeah?” He turned back, his eyes hopeful.
The nightmare of him losing everything played in my mind again and my shoulders sank.
“Great game tonight,” I said.
He pursed his lips, blinking a few times like he’d heard me wrong.
“Thanks,” he said, chuckling slightly as he shut the door behind him.
I sank into my chair, head in my hands.
The work I’d dreamed of for years sat in front of me, an easy completion to one hell of a day. But my personal life plagued the center of my chest, an equation I couldn’t solve, and I had no clue how to deal with it.
Chapter 14
Eric
Mason-fucking-Hall. If I never had to see that douchebag again, it would be too soon. Yet here he was, on my ice, coming at me like he had something I couldn’t take.
My focus narrowed to the puck, the movement of his feet, the angle he held his stick at. The noise of the rink faded to the sound of my breath within my helmet.
Hall shot.
I reached out glove-side.
He looked at me with expectation.
I obliged, dropping the puck from where I’d caught it in my glove.
Not today, fucker.
A save had never felt so good.
Maybe I was an asshole, but damn it felt good to watch his shoulders drop as he skated to the back of the line. Double as good when I caught Pepper watching.
Just add immature to the asshole label.
Coach had brought up four players from the minors as a try-out of sorts. He hadn’t been joking when he’d fired Crosby over a week ago.
But as much as I hated Crosby, I would have gladly traded Hall to have him back. The guy was entitled, lazy, and cocky as fuck. And if he didn’t stop sitting in Pepper’s office every chance he got, I was going to shove his stick so far up his ass that—
Thwap!
I knocked another shot to the ground from Minor League Number Two and prepped for Number Three to skate forward.
And so it went for the next hour, adding in a scrimmage or two.
The prospects weren’t bad, but they weren’t ready for the NHL, either. Then again, someone had taken a chance on me once, too.
“Damn,” Connor muttered as we walked toward the locker room. “If that’s what we have to work with…”
“The
n we’ll have to make it work,” I said with way more certainty than I felt.
We pushed through the locker room doors, I took my seat on the bench and began to unclip my leg pads. The prospects were grouped on the bench nearest the door—the only one with empty lockers.
“Look how cute they are, all wide-eyed with wonder,” Lukas cooed. “Like their first time at Disneyland.”
I stifled a laugh and shook my head. They did look a little like that, to be honest. Sometimes it was hard to remember that while I was doing everything I could to be at the top of my game, there had been a time where I wasn’t even in the locker room.
“How’d you guys feel?” I threw out the olive branch.
“Amazing and really nervous,” Number Three answered.
“Yeah, I feel you on the nerves,” Two added.
“No reason to feel nervous, boys,” Hall answered like he had any idea what the fuck he was talking about. “Just do your best so you know you left it all out there on the ice. That’s what Coach Harris really cares about.” He gave them a superior nod, and I just about laughed.
“Must be nice to have the inside track, Hall,” Four commented with a hefty dose of sarcasm.
Huh. I liked that one.
“Well, I mean, I did date Pepper in high school, until our dreams took us different directions.”
My head turned so slowly it felt scripted, and it was all I could do not to drop my jaw. Holy shit was that the most interview-prepped answer ever.
“Gentry, those were some great saves today,” Bentley called out.
“Thanks,” I answered, catching the subtle shake of his head as he glanced between Hall and me.
Yeah, I knew I had to play it cool around this asshole.
“True. You’re a pretty decent goalie, Gentry,” Hall added in.
Do not react. Do not react. Do. Not...fuck it.
“Stopped every shot you put up,” I fired back.
His jaw flexed. Ha.
“So, you and Pepper going to reignite that spark?” Number Two asked.
Yep, Number Four was my pick so far.
Hall gave a little smirk that made me want to throw my cup at him, but I managed to put my gear in my locker. “I can’t see why we wouldn’t. We spend a lot of time together when I’m here. I know she wants to, and to be honest...that flame never quite died out. You know?”