King, p.18
King, page 18
King shakes his head. “No, but I had parents who encouraged and let me have fun. It made me want to please them and made me a better player. There’s more than one way to get your kid to play to his potential.”
Theo’s father’s eyes flicker with uncertainty as he studies King but then he exhales. “Maybe you’re right,” he concedes, his gaze sliding over to where Theo is laughing with his teammates. “I just want him to succeed, you know? To have opportunities I never did.”
King nods in understanding, his expression softening with empathy. “I get that. But sometimes the pressure can be too much, and it might push him away instead of pulling him closer.”
Mr. McVey scrubs a hand along his jaw. “Thanks for the advice,” he says quietly. “I’ll try to do better by him.”
“Good man,” King says, clapping him on the back.
Theo’s father nods and makes his way over to where his son is standing, still chatting animatedly with his friends. As Theo catches sight of his father approaching, he tenses slightly, unsure of what to expect. But to his surprise—and mine—his father offers a small smile and reaches out a hand to ruffle his hair affectionately.
“Great game, son,” Theo’s father says gruffly, but with a hint of pride shining through. “I’m proud of you.”
Theo blinks in astonishment, a smile slowly spreading across his face. The tension that had been coiled in his shoulders releases and he grins up at his dad.
When they walk off, I approach King and lace my fingers with his. “That was quite the speech. You seem to have reached him.”
King shrugs, frowning. “The man said the right words just now but it’s hard for a zebra to change his stripes. We’ll see how he does at the next game. What do you want to do for the rest of the day?”
I blink in surprise. “You have the entire day off?”
“No, I have a light skate practice but was hoping you might want to watch and then we can do something together.”
The swell of giddiness at spending the day with him, watching him practice, is another indication that this man is having a profound effect on me. “I’d love to come watch you practice,” I say eagerly, already looking forward to seeing him in his element on the ice. “And afterward, we can do whatever you’d like. Maybe grab some dinner or go for a walk in the park?”
King’s expression softens at my words, a warmth shining in his eyes. He squeezes my hand gently before letting go to head toward the rink, gesturing for me to follow him. “Dinner sounds great,” he says with a smile.
♦
I’m beyond excited to watch the Titans practice, which is held at a practice facility and not the arena as there’s a concert scheduled there tonight. Although I’ve attended a game, the opportunity to witness King practice feels more intimate, like being given a VIP tour of his world.
Taking my seat in the stands, just two rows up from the ice, I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and intently watch the action. The practice begins with a series of drills, Coach West’s booming voice echoing throughout the arena as he directs each player. “All right, let’s run through the breakout drill! Defense, make those passes sharp!”
My eyes are drawn to King as he glides onto the ice. His movements are graceful yet powerful, leaving me breathless with every stride. He effortlessly commands the ice, making it seem like an extension of himself. I look at this strong, beautiful man who has the power to crack heads and the gentleness to make me come apart, and the dichotomy is as much a sexual turn-on as it is a sentiment to my heart.
With impressive speed and agility, King intercepts a pass and swiftly changes to offense, racing down the ice with determination. My heart pounds every time he touches the puck, silently urging him to do his best. When he does, it takes everything not to jump out of my seat to cheer for him, but I hold my excitement because the handful of other people watching the practice are very chill.
Someone approaches from my left and I note it’s Kiera. She says hello to a few other people, none of whom I’ve met yet, and then plops into the seat next to me. “Hey, Willa.”
“Hi,” I exclaim brightly. I enjoyed talking with Kiera the other night at Mario’s. We have a lot in common, especially since she’s a nurse. I also enjoyed watching her interaction with Bain, Drake and Brienne. She fits in so seamlessly with the Titans family and I wonder if that’s where I’m headed.
“First practice?” she asks.
I nod. “Spur of the moment. Do you come to a lot of these?”
Kiera shakes her head. “No. I’m only here because we’re going grocery shopping together after and I happened to be in the area. Not many of the SOs watch practices.”
“SOs?”
“Significant others. Wives, fiancées, girlfriends, non-romantic friends, but don’t include puck bunnies.”
Laughing, I ask, “What the hell is a puck bunny?”
“Women who make it their goal to sleep with professional hockey players. They throw themselves at these guys, dress provocatively, outright offer to sleep with them. Considered just a hookup, but not necessarily a one-night stand. They might be kept around for days or weeks until a player gets sick of them and moves on. They’ll never be serious, long-term potential.”
My jaw sags. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious, although truth be told, not many of our guys are into the puck bunnies that I can see. At least not past a one-night-stand type of thing.”
“I have so much to learn,” I murmur.
Kiera pats my knee. “Stick with me young grasshopper and I’ll teach you things.”
I snort and am compelled to say, “I’m by no means young. At least not comparatively.”
Swiveling her head my way, she asks, “Comparatively to whom?”
I nod toward the ice. “Well, King for one. I’m eight years older than he is.”
Kiera waves a dismissive hand. “That means nothing. Now if you were twenty years older, I’d be high-fiving you for your major cougar balls, but King’s kind of an old soul anyway. I think you two are perfectly matched.”
More of that anxiety I keep in a small well in my chest unfurls at her statement. “You think?”
“Yeah. You both look like moon-eyed teenagers around each other. I’d lay money down this is the real deal.”
“Was it like that with you and Bain?” I ask.
Kiera barks out a laugh, her eyes cutting to me briefly before going back to the action on the ice. “God, no! We were just fuck buddies to start.”
“You were a puck bunny?” I tease.
“Funny,” she says dryly. “No. I was a mature, professional woman who liked sex—still do, for that matter—and Bain was my male counterpart. We agreed to a friends-with-benefits deal to start.”
“And then that changed,” I muse.
Kiera’s voice softens and she turns to look at me. “Yeah… it changed because love takes no prisoners.”
The bit of anxiety that had dissipated retightens. I’m not ready for love or to be its prisoner, although I highly suspect King would like to move that way. Before I can respond, a scraping sound has both of us turning to the ice to find King standing at the boards.
His eyes are bright and twinkling. “Hey there, enjoying the show?”
“Very much,” I reply. “You look incredible out there.”
He winks playfully. “I think you’re biased.”
I hold my thumb and forefinger up, slightly separated. “Maybe a little.”
King’s laugh is deep and rich. “I like your bias,” he says before speeding off.
Kiera thumps her shoulder into mine. “You two are freaking adorable.”
Yeah… we are.
But are we more?
As he races back to join his team, Kiera nudges me with her elbow. “He’s something special, isn’t he?”
I nod enthusiastically, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. “Yeah, he really is.”
We watch as the team runs through a specific drill, a complex sequence of passes and shots that require perfect timing and coordination. It’s like watching a well-oiled machine in action.
I find myself lost in thought about my blossoming relationship with King. He’s not just a skilled hockey player; he’s also kind, considerate and endlessly supportive. He’s gone out of his way to be there for me, whether it’s helping with the Ice Pups, putting my ex in his place or making me feel like the most special person in the world.
I’ve stopped denying the existence of my heart swelling with emotion. In such a short time, he’s managed to break down so many of my defenses. I’ve been trying to keep things casual between us, afraid of getting hurt again, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult. The way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
With each passing moment of practice, my resolve weakens. I no longer want to keep things casual with him. I want more. I want everything he has to offer and then some. The thought both exhilarates and terrifies me.
King skates by once again, catching my eye and sending a smile my way. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and I feel more certain than ever that I’m ready to take a chance on him and our budding relationship.
CHAPTER 17
King
As I park down the block from Brienne Norcross’s mansion, I join the line of luxury vehicles already on the street. The frigid air seeps through my coat, nipping at my skin as I quickly get out and circle around to Willa’s side. I open the door for her, and she steps out like a vision in a sleek, dark green dress that hugs her curves with a sophisticated black coat that I helped her into earlier. Her hair is elegantly pulled back, showcasing her graceful neck and delicate earrings that glint in the soft light.
Our hands interlaced, we make our way toward the opulent Norcross home, our breaths visible in the crisp night air. Willa’s hand feels warm and comforting in mine, and I give it a gentle squeeze. “You look absolutely stunning tonight,” I tell her with a sincere smile.
“Thank you,” she replies, a small grin playing on her lips. “And you clean up pretty nicely yourself.”
I took way too much time on my appearance tonight, making sure not a single hair was out of place, breaking down and shaving despite the years it takes off my face, and fretting over the best cologne. I rifled through my closet for fifteen minutes, comparing all of my suits to try to figure out what would look best. Christ, I might have turned into a girl but for some reason, I want to impress Willa tonight. I want her to see me as sophisticated, a side she hasn’t really seen yet. Through my years in the league, I’ve rocked a formal event a time or two.
As we approach the towering house, she admits, “I’m a little anxious, though.”
I stop and turn to face her, concern etched on my features. “Anxious? Why?”
She hesitates before meeting my gaze. “I guess because this is really stepping all the way into your world.”
I frown, not understanding. “But you’ve been to a game, seen a practice, met my mates and their women.”
“Yes, but this is an official, mandatory player get-together and everyone will be here. And you’re bringing me, and I know you guys don’t just bring casual dates to events like this.”
“Who says?” I tease.
“Kiera told me, plus… I know you, King. You’d never bring a casual date to a private dinner with the team’s owner and that means this isn’t casual. My agreeing to come means that I can’t keep this casual and it scares me a little.”
Her admission fills me with joy even as it causes her angst, so I keep it light. “Oh, so you’re saying all my nefarious tricks are working?”
She blushes but laughs, giving me a playful nudge. “Maybe. But let’s take it slow and see how things go.”
“Absolutely,” I assure her, lifting her hand to my lips and pressing a tender kiss to it. “We’ll take things at your pace.”
Together, we reach the double doors up a wide portico and are welcomed in by a staff person. My eyes are immediately drawn to the massive chandelier above the foyer, its sparkling lights illuminating the entire space that oozes opulence and luxury. Every detail in this place seems meticulously crafted, from the inlaid marble floors to the hand-carved moldings, adding to the grandeur of the moment. It’s my first time here and I have to work not to let my jaw sag in astonishment. I see Willa’s eyes are just as wide as mine.
The house is filled with the buzz of lively chatter and laughter. We shed our coats and walk around, greeting teammates with drinks in hand and checking out the various rooms. There’s a large formal room filled with antique furniture and heavy oil paintings, a den with wide masculine leather couches and a roaring fire, a library with rolling ladders to reach the books, and off to the left is a huge ballroom that’s empty except for guests standing about.
Rafferty greets me with a hearty pat on the back and turns to Willa with a smile. “Even better to see you.” He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. I want to punch him but don’t, knowing he’s probably doing it to push my buttons. It’s forgiven when he turns to me and says, “You’re a lucky guy.”
“Don’t I know it,” I reply, slipping my arm around Willa’s waist.
We mingle with other guests before making our way to the impressive buffet. Rows of tables are adorned with high-end gourmet dishes, including dainty appetizers, juicy beef tenderloins, perfectly cooked scallops and an assortment of artisanal cheeses. We fill our plates and look for a spot to sit.
Penn is in the formal living area, holding a drink and no food, so I head that way. He’s only here because Brienne made attendance mandatory and he looks utterly uncomfortable. I lead Willa over and we perch on chairs kitty-corner to him.
“What’s up, man?” I greet him as we take our seats.
“What’s up?” he says, looking neither relieved nor put out to have company.
I introduce him to Willa and she shakes his hand, leaning forward from her chair. Willa and I have talked on more than one occasion about my concern for my teammate and she jumps in to start a conversation, “Enjoying the party?”
He shrugs, letting out a noncommittal grunt. “It’s all right.”
Willa calls him on it. “You’re not a fan of these types of events?”
Penn shakes his head. “Not really.”
“Well, at least you have good company tonight,” I say, cutting a glance toward Willa.
Penn only lifts his chin in acknowledgment but says no more. Christ, it’s like pulling teeth with him so I know Willa won’t begrudge me talking hockey just to get conversation rolling.
“What do you think about the game against the Rebels tomorrow? They’ve come on strong this year and their first line has been dominating the last two weeks.”
I would think Penn would be happy with my choice of conversation, given that he doesn’t like to get personal and well, hockey’s the only thing he’ll really talk about.
But he’s strangely reserved and merely says, “It’s going to be a battle.”
“Kasparitis is going to come after you tomorrow.”
He’s the first-line defenseman on the Rebels and he’s known for being a mean son of a bitch. Penn shrugs. “Not worried about him.”
“Yeah, McLendon is the bigger threat,” I agree. He’s the other first line defenseman and while he’s not mean like Kasparitis, he’s wicked quick and light on his feet. For a player like Penn, who pins much of his success on his speed, it makes him a formidable opponent. “But I’ve got your back. Don’t worry.”
“Not worried,” he says flatly and then to my surprise, he actually changes the subject away from hockey by looking at Willa. “What do you do for a living?”
My head spins with his contrary nature but at least he’s made the effort to include Willa, although I get the distinct impression, it was specifically to turn attention away from the game. Pick a lane and stay in it, dude.
“I’m a doctor,” she replies, and they launch into a conversation about family medicine. I listen, noting that Penn’s not overly invested in what Willa’s saying. I’m fucking stumped as to what makes this guy tick and how to reach him, but at least for now, he’s talking.
After a while, Brienne’s voice cuts through the noise, calling everyone into the main foyer. The room is spacious enough to accommodate all of us comfortably, with a grand staircase leading up to the next level. She stands on the fourth step so everyone can see her.
“I just want to take a moment to express how proud I am of this team,” Brienne begins after we’re all gathered, her voice carrying throughout the room. “You have all been playing exceptionally well, and I couldn’t ask for more. As you know, I’ve been traveling, but rest assured, I’ve been watching the games while on the road. I will admit, though, it’s wonderful being back home and I’ll be in the owner’s box tomorrow to cheer you on.”
Everyone applauds, invigorated by the owner’s love of her team.
“I also want to thank Drake for supporting me these past few weeks while I’ve been away.” She glances at her fiancé, who stands among the players with a look of admiration in his eyes. “Not only am I the owner of the Titans and the CEO of Norcross Holdings, but I’ve been working on a new sporting venture that I’m extremely excited to announce tonight. I know this may come as a shock, but I’ve acquired a Formula International race team that was based in London, and it will now be known as Titans Racing.”
A deafening silence drapes the room because there was never any indication that Brienne wanted to expand her empire into other professional sports. Willa nudges me and I look down at her, shrugging in response to her questioning gaze. “Norcross Holdings will take over at the start of the season in March, with headquarters located both in the UK and Pittsburgh. I want you all to know that the Titans hockey team will always be my top priority and I’m in the process of hiring a team principal who will handle the entire racing operation. It’s my hope that the city of Pittsburgh will add to its illustrious reputation of producing the finest in champions, whether it be football, baseball, hockey or now… FI racing. I hope you will all support me in this new endeavor, but know that my heart is always and forever with Titans hockey.”
