The look she gives me is one of utter disbelief. “Okay, Finley. If you say so.”
“He’s my player.”
“Who you want to fuck.”
“I… You… That’s not...”
Charlotte nods like I’m making complete sense. “Right. That’s what I thought. Masturgate was a one-time thing, and now it’s out of your system. No fucking required.”
“He’s my player. I cannot want to… fuck… him.”
“And yet you do. And even worse, you want more than just a quick fuck.” She takes a casual sip of beer.
Like she’s pulling back a curtain that’s been closed, the reality of it all hits me. I know I want Beckett. I want his touch on my skin. His lips pressed against mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. His body above me, behind me, beneath me, pounding into me in a restless rhythm. But it’s more than that, I want his evenings and his weekends and every spare minute of his time.
I want his happiness and his frustrations.
I wanthim.
“Fuck,” I say, trying to keep the panic I feel from my face. “It’s so bad.”
“The whole world is secretly rooting for you two to fall in love. If nothing else, that’s what the Yeti Challenge has accomplished.”
It’s the first time I’ve wished for something from social media to come true.
“Is there really not a way you can make it happen?” Charlotte asks, leaning close to me, so we’re not overheard. The opening act is playing, and none of us is paying much attention.
“I’m in charge of him.”
“Male bosses sleep with their employees all the time. Like people barely bat an eye.”
“Just because it happens doesn’t make it okay. Plus, as a woman, we both know I’m held toverydifferent standards.” I pause, deciding how much I want to get into it tonight, but finally say, “I may have spent some time googling it. The women usually get transferred to different departments or something, so they aren’t in the boss’ direct chain of command.”
Charlotte considers it. “Can he still play for the Yeti and not be in your chain of command? Like, could Rob oversee all decisions related to Kane?”
“Ah, yes. I’m sure the organization—and the world at large—will be totally fine with me handing over decision-making control to my assistant. No one will question that or suggest I clearly don’t have what it takes to be the head coach if I need to outsource theactualcoaching.”
“Sarcasm noted, but what if he gets injured or something? I mean, he’s old, and he plays hockey. He could break a hip at any moment.”
“I actually think he’s hiding an injury from me,” I respond, willing to be distracted by the other challenge between Beckett and me. He isn’t playing at full strength—I’ve been questioning it since he started with the team—but it’s gotten worse lately.
“Not the point, Finley.”
I shrug. “He would still be my player.”
“Would he, though?” Charlotte asks. “You know I try to avoid knowing anything about sports if possible—I leave that up to my brother—but when players are actually declared as injured, are they even considered part of the team?”
“Yes, Charlotte.” I sigh. “Plus, I think if masturgate has taught us anything, it’s that I desperately need a release. I’m not even sure this is about Beckett at all.”
“Right,” Charlotte says. “So we’re going with the fact that you’re horny andthat’sthe reason you’re interested in your player?”
“Yes,” I agree, though clearly it isn’t the case. I’ve been interested in him since I was sixteen.
Charlotte nods. “Okay. Sure. I’m positive it has nothing to do with the handsome man you have a ton in common with. Truly, I fully support your delusions.”
I groan, dropping my head against the wall. Across the room, Beckett’s eyes meet mine. He lifts an eyebrow, silently asking if everything’s okay.
I force a smile in response. Out of the corner of my eye, Charlotte clocks the exchange. When I look back at her, she’s grinning.
