Page 2

Chapter two

~ROWAN~

I’ve faced countless opponents on the ice, and this girl could rival them all with just sheer willpower. She’s all caramel-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a little heart-shaped face that makes you do a double-take. But it’s the way she lifts her chin defiantly while looking up at me like she’s the one who’s 6’5 and I’m the one who should be shrinking beneath her gaze that has my blood pumping in a way I didn’t expect.

Trouble. She’s trouble. The way she shot back at me with, “Can’t say the same,” after my comment about her coffee, her eyes narrowing at me. That fire intrigues me, even as it raises all the alarms.

She walked into a room full of players who were itching to test her, and she didn’t flinch. You pack of puppies? I bite my tongue to suppress a laugh at the memory.

The room went dead silent for a beat before the laughter hit, loud and unanimous. Then they were tripping over each other to get on her good side, throwing her grins and charm like they were in heat. And she met them without hesitation. If she was nervous, she didn’t let it show.

And yeah, I’ll admit it was hot. Watching her win them over so fast, throwing their jabs right back at them without blinking? Damn impressive.

Her squared shoulders and lifted chin scream determination—a hellcat disguised as a kitten. She already gave me hell at the coffee shop, and she’ll definitely raise the bar. I can’t decide if that’s a challenge I want to accept or avoid.

“Enjoy your workout,” she says, a playful glint in her eyes as she glances over at Ares and Damien. I swear I see a hint of a smirk on her lips before she turns on her heel, her long wavy hair brushing against my chest. The sweet scent of her—vanilla and something distinctly floral—lingers in the air as she walks away.

“Enjoy your first day,” I mumble, even though she’s already gone.

Thirty minutes later, we’ve moved to the stretching room. We’re on the mats, stretching out the kinks from last season. I lean into a forward stretch, gritting my teeth as a sharp pull in my thigh reminds me that I’m not invincible. Fuck, I’ve been treating this forever. It’s restricting my movements and I’m at my patience’s limit. If I have to see Dr. Payden’s face one more fucking time, telling me to ice and stretch, I’ll go nuts.

“Damn, dude,” Damien says from my right, his raspy voice cutting through the quiet. “You’re gonna snap in half if you keep that up.”

“I’m tired of fucking icing it. The pain has to go away by the start of the season. I can’t play like this.”

“And your plan is to stretch it into submission instead?” he shoots back, rolling his shoulders. “Gentle stretching, or you’ll make it worse.”

“The new PR agent’s got him riled up,” Ares’ deep voice comes from my left, calm as ever. I glance over at him, and I’m met with a knowing look.

“Ah, right.” Damien lets out a laugh. “Real nice of you to piss her off at the café, by the way.” He smacks me on the back before dropping to a squat in front of me.

“I didn’t know who she was,” I half-grunt, head snapping toward Damien. “Not that it matters. If she’s anything like Angela, we’ll only have to see her during events and the post-game press.”

“She’s nothing like Angela, though.” Damien gives me a look. “Something tells me blondie’s about to really stick her nose down our necks.”

“She can try,” I say, rising to my feet.

Damien snorts. “She looked pretty feisty. You might wanna reconsider that confidence.”

Just as I’m about to retort, my phone buzzes in my pocket. So do Damien and Ares’. We all pull them out and glance at the screen. A wave of annoyance hits me when I see the email notification from the little hellcat.

“Is she serious?” I mutter, my eyes narrowing as I read the subject line: Meeting in the Conference Room with Livia Moody.

“She’s not wasting any time,” Damien says, already on his own phone, eyes alight with amusement. “Already got all of our emails and is hosting a meeting before she’s even been here an hour.”

I shake my head, irritation flaring as I slide my phone back into my pocket. “I’m not going,” I declare firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. “My workout isn’t over.”

Damien and Ares share a glance, and I can see the unspoken question.

“Dude, you never miss meetings,” Damien says, his brows furrowed.

“I never miss important meetings,” I reply, rolling my shoulders. “Meetings organized by people who actually respect our schedules and announce them a few days ahead. Not ten minutes before.”

“Already getting on Ms. Moody’s bad side?” Damien raises a playful brow.

“You can tell me all about the fun icebreaker exercises she makes you do.” I chuckle, slapping his back.

“I don’t know, man.” Damien laughs, already gathering his stuff. “Feel like she’s not gonna be happy about the captain being absent.”

Most of the other players filed into the conference room, and I stayed behind to finish my workout. I know I’m not the only one missing the meeting. Hell, it was announced ten damn minutes before. I’m not about to let a PR rookie dictate my schedule.

The sound of metal clinking and the rhythmic thud of my feet hitting the ground fill the empty space. I’m pushing through the final set of my workout, and then I’ll stretch and go home for today.

Just as I finish my last rep, the door swings open. Little Miss Moody strides in, her presence immediately shifting the atmosphere in the room.

Shit, here we go.

I can feel her eyes locking onto me like a hawk on its prey.

“Mr. DiMarco,” she calls out, her tone laced with authority. “Missing our first meeting doesn’t set a great example for the team.”

I straighten up, using a towel to wipe the sweat from my brow.

“I’m not the only one missing it,” I retort, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “That’s what happens when you don’t announce things ahead of time.”

“Yes, there were players missing,” she concedes, taking a step closer, her voice firm. “But you’re the captain.”

Her sweet scent mixes with the gym’s, awakening my senses. Her blue eyes are glaring up at me through long lashes as she tilts her head back to meet my gaze.

“Exactly. I have a strict training routine,” I counter, trying to keep my irritation in check. “And I don’t appreciate interruptions.”

“Then maybe you should rethink your priorities. Being a captain means being present for your team and my introduction.” She looks at me without an ounce of fear. “Perhaps you need a PA to manage your schedule.”

“I’m more than capable of managing my own schedule,” I say, crossing my arms, sweat glistening along my skin.

“Mr. DiMarco, I’m here to ensure you and your team are represented well. The media can be ruthless, and ignoring that won’t make it go away.” She narrows her eyes and mirrors me, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, I’ve seen what the media can do,” I reply, the bitterness rolling off my tongue unchecked this time. “I don’t need a reminder. What I need is to focus on my workout and the upcoming season.”

“You’re avoiding your responsibilities.” She steps closer, her presence commanding.

“An introductory meeting with you is not my responsibility. It’s yours, Ms. Moody. And I don’t appreciate people trying to mess with my routine.”

The way she looks up at me ignites a flicker of heat beneath my irritation. She’s not shrinking, backing down, or letting me off the hook. It’s frustrating, irritating, and fucking hot.

“I’m not here to mess with your routine, Mr. DiMarco. I’m here to work with you and ensure you and the team are portrayed in the best light possible.”

I scoff, taking a step closer, invading her personal space on purpose. Now, she has to tilt her head almost all the way back to look at me, and there’s still no flicker of uncertainty in her blue eyes.

“Ambitious little thing, aren’t we?” I murmur, leaning down slightly.

Her eyes flash with surprise before quickly settling back into a challenging glare.

“I’m not a ‘little thing,’ Mr. DiMarco. I’m your new PR agent, and I’m not here to be disrespected.”

“Disrespecting you is the last thing I’d do, Ms. Moody. I’m admiring your ambition.” A smirk pulls at my lips.

Another flicker of surprise crosses her eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. She straightens, looking up at me with even more fire, even though she barely reaches my shoulders.

“I expect you to attend the next meeting,” she asserts, unwavering.

“Or what? You’ll put me in timeout?” I raise a brow.

“You might find I have some creative methods to ensure compliance,” her head tilts to the side, and I bite my tongue to keep from asking if her neck hurts from looking up at me for so long.

“I look forward to seeing what you come up with then,” I say, my voice low, feeling that flicker of heat travel below my waist again.

Her gaze holds mine, defiant yet intrigued, before she shakes her head with a slight roll of her eyes.

“I better see you at our next meeting, DiMarco,” she finally says, turning on her heel, her sweet scent hitting me again.

I can’t help it. I look down, watching her ass sway as she stomps out of the gym just in time before I feel my cock strain against my workout shorts.

Well, fuck.