Is it reasonable to be jealous of a piece of ice? Because the way JJ sucked it into his mouth will probably play on repeat in my mind for the rest of my life.
Then there was the way he held eye contact while he brushed the ice—and by default his lips—against my palm. I shiver now just thinking about it.
Those blue eyes of his were so deep. I wanted to jump in and swim. I wanted to grab him by the neck and pull his lips to mine. I wanted to kiss him and never stop. I wanted his lips everywhere.
If only I didn’t know how good they felt pressed against mine. If only I couldn’t remember his exact taste?—
“You wanted to see me.” Dirk’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
Not necessarily a bad thing.
I’m sitting in the stands, right where I told him to meet me, behindthe net. I glance toward the man who used to be nothing but a tormentor and a bully to me.
Actually, he was so much worse than that. Even now, being alone with him makes my skin crawl. I should have asked someone I trust to be here with me. Not Uncle Brooks. Then I’d have to explain why I’m uncomfortable being alone with a player. But maybe Sidney.
Definitely not JJ. I doubt he could be alone with Dirk either.
And he doesn’t even know the truth. Or at least not all of it.
“Sit down.”I nod at the spot beside me.
Unsurprisingly, the asshole chooses to stand, arms crossed, towering over me.
“I’m good right where I am.”
I shake my head. God, he’s still such a dick. Standing—fuck him and his effort to intimidate me—I lift my chin and zero in on him. “Fine. We need to talk about yesterday.”
His brows lift. “What’s there to talk about? I didn’t expect you to try to catch the puck. Figured you knew better.”
I swallow thickly but steel my spine. “Right, well, I was trying to show you how you should block.”
He scoffs, his lip curling. “I know how to block.”
Dammit. This isn’t helping. I summon every ounce of patience I possess and say, “Listen, with Hanson and Howe on the roster, we both know the likelihood of you getting a spot on this team is low.”
Jaw flexing, he only glares.
Still, I continue, unwilling to let him rattle me. “But there’s still a chance.”
Another scoff. “Right, like you’d ever actually go to bat for me with your uncle.”
“In this space, he’s not my uncle. He’s the head coach of this team. A team I love and want to see succeed. So yeah, Dirk, if I thought you were better for this team than either of them, despite how much I despise you, I’d do just that.”
He snorts like he doesn’t believe me.
“Point is,” I grit out, reminding myself that I expected this and that as his coach, I have to be the bigger person, “it’s my job to make you the best player you can be.”
His lips tip down thoughtfully. Or maybe skeptically. “Okay…”
“So if you’re game to move on, so am I.”
Eyes wide, he jolts back. “You’re telling me you’d actually let the past go?”
I ignore the way anxiety crawls through me having him this close and take a deep breath. “Yes.”
He stares at me for a few seconds, like he’s mulling it all over. Then he must realize that this feud will do him no good, and he nods. “Okay. I’m game. What’s your plan?”
“I realize my coaching style may be different from others. Maybe it’s because I’m still fresh from the game.” I shrug. “Either way, we might as well use that to our advantage.”
