We're almost to the elevators when I hear my name. "Joelle." That voice. Low and commanding. The same tone he uses on theice when he's calling plays. I turn. Emmett is standing a few feet away, duffel slung over his shoulder, expression unreadable.
"Captain," I say, keeping my voice neutral. "Something I can help you with?"
His jaw ticks. I know it makes his dick hard when I call him that.
"My shoulder's been tight since the flight. Thought I should mention it. Don't want to get benched again."
My eyes narrow on him. What the hell is he playing at? "Have Mike look at it before dinner."
"I asked him, and he told me to come to you." His eyes hold mine. "He figured the physio who's been handling my rehab might want to make sure I'm game-ready."
Collette squeezes my arm. "I can wait upstairs if you need to ..."
"It can wait until tomorrow," I cut in. "Ice it tonight, Captain. I'll check it at morning skate."
Something flickers in his expression. Frustration? Disappointment? He nods once. Sharp. "Tomorrow then." He walks past us toward the elevators, close enough that I catch his scent, Cedar and something darker. Something that makes my stomach clench with memory.
Collette waits until he's out of earshot. "What was that about?"
"I have no idea." I jab the elevator button. "I think I've made him paranoid about his shoulder."
"Uh-huh." She's studying me with those sharp eyes that miss nothing.
The elevator dings, and I step inside, grateful for the escape.
Collette follows, still watching me. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever's going on ..."
"Nothing's going on. Not since ..."
The doors close on her skeptical expression. "Since I cockblocked you both." She smirks.
"Exactly."
"His request kind of sounded like it was a code word for something."
"Code word for what?"
"Dick," she says, bursting out laughing.
"Lettie, what the hell?" We step out of the elevator onto our floor. "No, seriously, did it sound bad?" I’m suddenly panicked.
"No. I'm just teasing because I know things I shouldn't." She smiles as she sashays down the hall to our suite.
"And I should never have told you." I pout, dragging my suitcase down the long corridor.
Dinner is at some upscale steakhouse the team has rented for the night, long tables and too much food. The kind of rowdy energy that comes from twenty-something hockey players together. I'm seated between Sarah and one of the assistant coaches, which should be safe.Should be.But Emmett is directly across from me. He's deep in conversation with Pierre about defensive strategies, gesturing with his fork, completely ignoring me. Which is fine, great, actually. Except every few minutes, his knee brushes mine under the table. When did his legs grow so fricken long?
The first time, I tell myself it's an accident. He's tall, the table is narrow, these things happen. The second time, I shift my legs away. The third time, his knee follows. I look up sharply, he's still talking to Pierre, face perfectly neutral, but there's the ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. He's doing this on purpose.Fucker.Two can play this game. I lean forward to reach for thebreadbasket, letting my foot slide against his calf as I stretch. His words falter for just a second before he chokes on air.
"Are you okay, Em?" Sully asks from his other side. "You look like you swallowed something wrong."
"Fine," Emmett says, his voice slightly rough.
I slowly pick off bits of my bread roll and pop them in my mouth, my foot finds its intended target.His dick.His knee shoots up and kicks the table, making it rattle. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling and tear off a piece of bread like it's the most interesting thing in the room.
"Are you sure you're okay? Your face is all red." Sully keeps questioning his friend.
Under the table, Emmett's hand lands on my foot and holds it against his dick.His now hardening dick.Shit. I freeze. Goosebumps start to prickle up my skin, from my ankle all the way to my knee. I try to pull my foot away, but he has it caught, his palm warm against my skin. His grip is firm but not tight. A warning, maybe, or a promise. The tables have turned now, and his dick is getting harder and thicker as he presses my foot against it. I take a sip of my water and pretend my heart isn't trying to escape my chest. His thumb strokes once against the inside of my knee. Now it's my turn to choke.
