But I knew there was something off with them the minute I stepped foot into her world.
“I’m truly sorry about this misunderstanding, Mr. Patterson. This is not how I wanted your first impression of our wonderful school to be. I am working on getting this remedied immediately,” Dean Ashby tells me.
I believe he’ll do what he can, but I don’t know if I’m in a rush for him to figure it out. This might not be ideal, and I may have been a bit aggravated at first, but it’s Ellie. Having her as a housemate could either be insanely distracting or incredibly entertaining.
“Don’t worry about it, Martin. It is what it is,” I assure him. He nods graciously.
“Are you ready to start this weekend? The boys are excited to have you,” he smiles. I’m sure they are. A famous hockey player coming in to take over as coach? What guy wouldn’t be excited about that? These little pricks have no idea what’s coming.
I’ve never coached a team before, but I’ve been playing hockey since I learned how to walk. I know everything there is to know about the damn sport, and I know what it takes to make it to the big leagues.
If they think daddy’s money and a pretty face is going to get them to the NHL, they have another thing coming.
“Yep, I’m looking forward to getting up and running. Are they good?” Ashby grimaces before regaining his composure.
“They’re okay. But they need to be great. Our lacrosse and rugby teams have been performing exceedingly well, and our hockey team needs to meet that same standard of excellence. Other schools are laughing at us, and I won’t let that stand. Those boys need to be whipped into shape, and fast. I know you’re going to help get us there, Mr. Patterson.”
With that, he pats my shoulder before turning and heading out of the kitchen. When I hear the door click shut behind him, I exhale a deep breath. I remove my jacket, setting it on the back of a chair at the outrageously large island. Pulling a water bottle from the fully stocked fridge, I rest against the counter as I take a sip.
When Martin Ashby called me and offered me this position, I laughed. I couldn’t believe he thought I’d want to coach. I’ve never taught anything. I’ve never been good enough at anything to be able to teach it. Hockey though? I can play some damn hockey.
A few hours later, I’m lying in bed watching a rerun of some shitty sitcom when I hear a floorboard creak from outside my door. Ellie’s been so quiet, I’d almost forgotten she was even here.
Deciding to check it out, I climb out of bed, careful not to put too much weight on my bad knee and open my door a crack. Ellie walks down the hall to what I assume is her chosen room, wearing a fucking robe. Her hair is wrapped in a white towel on top of her head. All I can see are her legs. Her long, tan, freshly shaved legs. Legs that were once wrapped around my…
Jesus, Jamie. Get your head out of your ass. This is the first time I’ve seen her since we were eighteen. I didn’t think it was possible for her to get any hotter, but here we are. When I saw her standing in the kitchen, I’ll admit I didn’t recognize her right away.
Her blonde hair passes her shoulders now; she always kept it at her shoulders. Her eyes somehow look even greener, and her body has filled out in all the right places. My god, she looks like a dream. So different yet exactly the same. Although the attitude is new.
I take a small step closer, and my damn knee betrays me, giving out under my weight and causing me to tip forward. I grab onto the door frame trying to steady myself, but the noise must have attracted Ellie because she stops in front of her door to face me. She holds a mug in her hands, the robe is tied tightly around her waist, and her expression is both curious and pissed off. Shit.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks accusingly. “Were you watching me?”
Straightening, I lean against the door frame and try to act as if my heart isn’t pounding out of my chest. I didn’t mean for her to see me, but now my cover is blown. I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest.
“No,” I say simply. Obviously, we both know it’s a lie. Ellie rolls her eyes, and I feel my dick swell a bit at the action. Who knew I liked a woman with attitude? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I haven’t been celibate all these years. I was in the NHL for Christ’s sake.
I slept with my fair share of beautiful women, but none of them stuck out to me. I didn’t have time for a girlfriend, and I never let myself get distracted. Hockey came first, and it still does. Women are a distraction, and any distraction could take me away from my goal, which is to heal my knee and get back to my team.
When the injury happened, the doctors told me I’d probably never play again. With a Medial Collateral Ligament tear, it was already risky. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t ignored it for weeks and kept playing through the pain. The team doctor told me it was stupid and reckless to continue playing with this sort of injury, and our coach was absolutely furious.
When they told me I would have to have surgery and I’d be out for months, if I can even return, I threw a chair at the wall of coach’s office. I’ll admit, it wasn’t my finest moment. However, being told you can’t play the sport you’ve lived for your whole life can be jarring.
Ellie uses her free hand to tighten her robe. “Then why are you standing in the doorway like a creeper?”
“I heard something, wanted to check it out,” I say, which isn’t completely a lie. I did hear something, but I knew it had to be her. What else would it be?
She takes a few steps closer until I can smell her floral shampoo and fruity body wash. My mouth waters at the thought of running my tongue up her thighs and tasting her… God, I haven’t gotten laid in a while.
“You need to leave,” she demands, stone-faced.
I’m taken aback by her bluntness. I wasn’t expecting her to say that, and I honestly don’t know how to reply. I don’t want to leave, not now. Now that I know she wants me gone.
“Can’t do that, sweetheart.”
Her eyes never leave mine. She’s staring me down so intensely, I’m not sure what she’s thinking. It honestly looks like she’s ready to murder me, but that can’t be. Sweet little innocent Ellie, she couldn’t hurt a fly. She’s always been quiet and reserved, except when she’s on stage. That’s where she thrives, or at least, she used to. I haven’t kept up with what she’s done since high school. Okay, that’s a lie. I thought about her more than I should have after the breakup. I’m the one that broke it off, but I still loved her. I just knew I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be at that time.
“And why not?” she asks, her brows furrowing together, making her look more cute than intimidating, which is what she’s trying to be.
