Given the level of whining and the workout we’ve already had, I‘m surprised how quickly the boys start. But then again, we are all hockey players, which means we’re all ridiculously competitive.
“You’re not joining in, Brades?” I ask before beginning.
“Nope. See this?” With a huge grin, he dangles his COACHING STAFF lanyard in my face. “Means I get to sit on my soon to be fat ass and watch. It’s brilliant.” Laughing, he turns to James and offers a fist bump. Mr. Uppity 2000, or whenever the fuck he was born, stares at the offered fist like it’s the first time he’s seen such a thing. “Tap it, Jamie,” Brady urges. “Tap it. Deep down I know you want to.”
Reluctantly, almost painfully, James grimaces and does indeed ‘tap it’. Not bending over and offering my ass as James’ next tap-able item consumes every ounce of strength left within me. Like he’s reading my thoughts, he shakes his head and frowns. “You’re almost a set behind, Mr. Malkovich. Better get to it.”
“Sure thing, Doc.” I give him another indiscreet wink and drop onto all fours, arching my back and jutting out my ass for absolutely no reason. With my head full of James, I have no memory of what we are supposed to be doing, so I quickly read the instructions written on the whiteboard and as James said, get to it.
On our second rotation, James leans over a tiring Evan Drummond, whispering instructions in his ear, those massive hands and thick fingers spreading over his stomach to correct his positioning. Lust licks up and down my spine picturing James behind me, whispering in my ear. Touching me.
I want some of that.
Grunting and groaning, I let my muscles lax, drop my hips and start flopping like a dead fish. I do get the attention I seek, but from Brady, not James. “I see what you’re doing, Cubby,” he mutters through thinly pressed lips. “Knock it off.”
I don’t knock it off, I ramp it up.
As hard as it is to shake your ass doing side planks, I Cardi-B that shit up. And the shoulder taps, no one has ever performed more lewdly.
I’m not sure if all this sexiness will see me getting any action, but it does earn me a head shake, the briefest hint of a James’ smile, and a rare and gorgeous rolling laugh.
I have a problem.
Actually I have several, but unlike the boner that left me lying face down on a yoga mat for fifteen minutes after James’s workout ended, this is happening in the semi-privacy of my room. Coach Harris is calling me at nine p.m.
“This can’t be good,” I say to Cherry, who’s finally got Billie down, and is next to me on my bed watching Drag Race as we bitch about the unfairness of life. “Shut up, turn it down. It’s Coach.” Hoping it removes all traces of panic, I clear my throat. “Coach, hey how’s it hanging?”
Kill me now.
Someone very not Coach sounding giggles, “Relax, Cubby. It’s me, Quinn.”
Confused, I pull the phone from my ear, yep, definitely says Coach Harris. “Quinn? Why are you on your dad’s phone?”
“Well, the thing is, we’ve just had dinner at his place, but I left my phone in the pool house, and I can’t be bothered walking all the way out there to get it. Anyway, we’re escaping to O’Reilly’s and?—”
“Wait.” I hold my palm out to tell her to stop like she can see it. “You can’t be bothered walking to get your phone, but you can get in the car, drive across town and go to a bar?”
“Yup! Wanna come?”
I’m tempted to ask why the Queen of BC would be calling me in the first place. I mean, sure I was invited to her last birthday party, but that was down to Coach. Then I remember the little discussion I had with one of her boyfriends outside Plum’s office, and it all makes sense.
“Brady made you ask me, didn’t he.” Quinn giggles, and I hear something shuffle in the background,
“Shit, he guessed. Say no, Quinny.”
“Hi, Brady,” I laugh.
“Oh, um, hey Cubby. So, you coming or what?”
There’s a million excuses I could come up with—I have to study, I’m too tired, my leg fell off—but I don’t use any. There was truth in what I blurted to Brady, so much so I was just repeating my woes to Cherry. I do want to be a great captain like Noah and Shane. I do need to come out of my shell off the ice and the apps. But how ready am I to do that?
“Sounds great, Quinn.” It really doesn’t. “See you soon.”
The second I drop my phone, Cherry pounces.
“So, little bro. Where are we going?”
“We? I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m going to O’Reilly’s.”
