Page 31 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

CASEY

I ’m in the bathroom taking my makeup off when my cell pings with a notification.

Assuming it’s Parker, I ignore it and continue with what I’m doing.

The events of the night spin through my mind, and as usual, thoughts of Kodie aren’t far away.

I hated seeing him struggling on the ice. It was jarring. He’s usually so strong and together; watching him fumbling plays and shots really didn’t sit right with me.

He’s better than that.

I tugged my boots and Monroe’s jersey off as soon as I stepped into my apartment.

The second Kodie looked at it, I regretted the childish decision.

I don’t want to be the girl who plays games to get attention, although I fear it’s what I’m turning into. That’s how all this started after all.

I also don’t want to be the girl who breaks all the rules, but here we are.

Shedding the rest of my clothes, I pull on a tank and pair of sleep shorts and crawl into bed.

After getting comfortable and switching the TV on to watch highlights from tonight’s games, I grab my cell.

I tap on the Instagram notification without thought, but when the messages open, my heart jumps into my throat.

Kodie Rivers has sent me a message.

And it’s not from his public account, the one I’ve shamelessly scrolled through a million times over the years. It’s from the private account that is locked up so tight I’ve often doubted if he lets anyone in.

“Oh my god,” I whisper as I tap to open the message.

I don’t know what I’m expecting to find staring back at me.

Sure, I know what I want. But I have very little hope that this is an apology and a Kodie Rivers booty call.

A girl can dream, right?

Hesitantly, I open the message, and the second the words appear before me, all the air rushes from my lungs.

Kodie Rivers: I’m sorry.

I sit there with my mouth open, blinking in disbelief.

All thoughts leave my head, all possible replies vanish, and I lower my cell into my lap as I stare blindly at the TV.

The Vipers – Bandits highlights are playing, and I get the displeasure of watching Rett grind Kodie into the boards over and over again. It was bad enough seeing it firsthand, but watching it again makes it look even more brutal.

Rett really is going for it. And it only takes a few more highlights of the game to really appreciate just how much he had it out for Kodie. Rett plays rough, as he always has. But he was gunning for Kodie tonight.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve found his contact and I’ve hit call.

I’m not expecting him to answer—he’ll be out celebrating their win. But after only a couple of rings, the call connects.

“Good evening, Watson. Calling to congratulate me on an epic performance tonight?”

I grunt in response, which makes him laugh.

“Parker told you, didn’t she?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” There’s something in his voice, though.

Parker and Rett are close. It doesn’t matter that they’re now in different states; they still talk almost every day.

And Parker is pissed at Kodie. It makes total sense that she’s mentioned something and set her brother on payback for what Kodie did to me the other night.

“Rett,” I breathe.

“Your boys got their asses handed to them tonight, Watson. They need to have a very hard look at themselves before the season starts.”

I let out a sigh, hearing the unspoken words.

“They’re ready,” I state confidently, making him scoff. “Just you wait. The tables will turn.”

“I’d like to see them try. I gotta go, Watson. I can see two bunnies with my name on them.”

“Still a pig, I see,” I tease.

“Living my best life while I can. Who knows when these knees will give out.”

I laugh. “Enjoy your celebrations while you can.”

“Cheers. See you soon.”

“Rett?” I call before he hands up.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you, but despite what Parker says, I don’t need anyone else fighting my battles for me.”

“No idea what you’re talking about, Watson,” he says before cutting the call.

Silence fills the line, and I slump lower in my bed, feeling stupid for not figuring it out earlier.

Opening Instagram again, I stare at his message.

My heart flutters. He’ll have seen I’ve read it.

Mentally, I come up with numerous replies. I even tap a few of them out.

But I never hit send.

None of them feel right, and I don’t want to send anything that I’m going to regret later.

Instead, I put my cell on silent and turn it face down on my nightstand.

The TV continues to play, but I don’t see any of it, and eventually, I turn it off and lie in the dark, reliving the events of the past few weeks over and over until I pass out.

“ H ello, this is a message for Casey Watson. My name is Lisa Kirk. I’m calling regarding the assistant coach position you’ve applied for.

We’d love to invite you in for an interview to discuss the position further.

If you could get back to me at your earliest convenience so we could discuss availability, that would be fantastic. Speak soon.”

It doesn’t matter that I’ve listened to the message no fewer than five times this morning and called them back to schedule my interview—butterflies still erupt in my belly when I hear it again.

“See, I told you that they’d want you, Care Bear,” Dad says with a proud smile.

A mixture of nerves and excitement shoots through me.

“I’m scared,” I confess.

Dad looks at me with a soft expression. It’s not one that many other people see while at the arena.

He’s usually riding players’ asses, pushing them harder and harder to get the results they need, both on and off the ice.

I’m grateful that he can put the coach in him aside for a few moments to be a dad.

“You’re going to kill it, Casey. You’re going to be an incredible coach, and those girls are going to love you.”

I blow out a shaky breath.

“I hope so.”

“I know so. Do you need help preparing for the interview?” Dad offers.

I want to say yes, but then I watch him smother a yawn and I swallow down my request.

They arrived back this morning from the penultimate exhibition game before the season starts.

It was another painful loss for the Vipers. It was a hard watch last night, and I know Dad is reeling from it, trying to figure out how to learn from it and move forward. He doesn’t need to be babysitting me when he has more important things to be doing.

“Nope. I’ve got this,” I say, putting as much confidence into my voice as possible.

“You have,” he says with a smile.

“So have you. The Vipers are going to make the playoffs this season. I can feel it.”

“Maybe we’ll both have teams that go all the way,” Dad counters.

I blow out a slow breath as I allow myself to picture it.

“Is everything else good with you?” Dad asks. “I hate the transition from spending the summer with you to basically living here.”

“I’m good,” I say with a smile.

I’m not lying. Not really.

Everything is great, especially with this new opportunity right here for the taking.

But as excited as I am about the possibilities, there is still something else—someone else—taking up way too much of my headspace.

I still haven’t replied to Kodie’s message.

It sits there in my inbox, taunting me every time I open Instagram.

He also hasn’t sent a follow-up, so I can only assume that he was trying to shed some guilt over the whole thing. That or he got one too many hits in the head courtesy of Rett that night. I could reply, but realistically, where is that going to get me?

He doesn’t want me.

And honestly, that’s for the best.

We can’t date. There is no kind of future for us.

He needs to focus on the season, on his daughter. And I need to focus on my job and hopefully, my new coaching gig.

Dad’s eyes narrow, and my stomach clenches.

His lips part and I hold my breath, dreading what he’s about to say.

Dad prides himself on knowing everything about his team. If he were to find out about me and Kodie…

“You’re coming to the barbeque on Sunday, right?”

I force a smile onto my face. Dad invites everyone to his annual preseason barbeque—all the Vipers’ staff, the players, and their families.

It’s always been a big thing, and as a kid, it was up there as one of my favorite days of the year. As an adult, I still love it, even if I have to act a little cooler about spending time with NHL gods.

“Of course I’ll be there,” I say.

“It’s going to be a good season, Care Bear.”

I smile at him. “It is. I’ll leave you to it,” I say, rising from the chair.

“You’re gonna get this job, Case. And you’re gonna be the best assistant coach in the girls’ league.”

I leave his office with a wide smile. I’m too lost in thoughts about tomorrow’s interview and what could possibly come after to look up, and the second I round the corner, I collide with what might as well be a freaking bus.

I shriek before stumbling back. I trip over my own foot, and the world falls from beneath me.

My breath catches and I brace myself for the hit, but a beat before I swear I’m about to collide with the floor, a pair of large hands wrap around my waist and right me.

“Thank—” My eyes lift and collide with a chocolate brown pair that haunts my dreams. “K-Kodie,” I breathe like an idiot.

The second I breathe in, I’m hit with his scent. It wraps around me like the world's most erotic hug, making my body react in ways it shouldn’t.

I want to hate him for what he did last week, for the cold way he dismissed me. But after watching him get slaughtered on the ice the last two games, I can’t deny that my anger has ebbed away a little.

His eyes bounce between mine.

My heart slams against my ribs, and damn it if my thighs don’t clench.

I swear, every second feels like a minute as he continues to hold me up, his giant palms burning my skin.

“S-shit,” he finally hisses before releasing me and taking a huge step back. “ Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” I say, smoothing my blouse down before tucking my hair behind my ears.

“Are you?” I ask as if he doesn’t get hit by men who weigh four times my body weight on a daily basis.

“Yeah, Troublemaker. I’m good.”

The second his nickname for me rolls off his tongue, every muscle in my body sags.

I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear that.

Silence falls between us, but it’s not awkward. Hell, it’s anything but. It’s charged and full of all the unspoken words between us.

“It’s good to see you,” he finally says.

“Mmm.”

“I-uh…” He rubs at the back of his neck.

Oh, nervous Kodie is so freaking cute.

“I messaged you.”

I nod. “You did.”

He frowns, clearly not expecting that response.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised; all these guys are used to bunnies who will immediately ask how high when they tell them to jump.

“You didn’t reply.”

“I wasn’t aware that was necessary.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Would have been nice to know if you accepted my apology.”

“Do you deserve it?” I don’t mean for the words to sound quite so bitter.

“Uh…” He looks away from me for a beat. “No, I guess not.”

“Well, there you go then. Excuse me, I should probably…” I step forward, expecting him to move aside considering his huge body takes up the majority of the hallway.

“I meant it, Casey. I’m sorry.”

I suck in a breath as the sincerity in his words rocks through me.

“What I said?—”

“Don’t,” I snap, risking another look up .

If he says anything to make me doubt what he said…well, neither of us needs that.

He’s one of my dad’s best players. And if luck is on my side, then I could be about to become his daughter’s coach as well.

We’ve already broken enough rules; we don’t need to be shattering any more.

“I get it. All of it. I understand, and if it makes you feel better, I do accept your apology. I’m sorry as well. I put you in an awful position. It was selfish and—” My words die as he steps closer, stealing every single one of my senses.

He drags his bottom lip along his teeth. Desire sits heavy in my lower stomach, remembering just what those lips are capable of.

He releases it and his chin drops, as if he’s about to say something, but another voice fills the hallway, forcing us to jump apart like naughty little kids.

“Yeah, I’m coming right now,” Dad barks—I assume into his phone—as his footsteps get louder.

“Shit,” I hiss before finally darting around Kodie and disappearing down the hallway.

“Rivers?” Dad says, surprise in his tone. “Everything okay?”

“U-uh, yeah,” he replies unconvincingly. “Meeting,” he mutters before heavy footsteps move away from me.

Without waiting around to find out what happens next, I rush down the hallway and jam my finger against the elevator call button to take me away.