Page 3

Chapter 3

Bag of Angry Cats

Nora

I never thought I’d get excited about wearing heels that made my feet hurt like I’d stuck them in a bag of angry cats, but something about charity events flipped a switch in my brain. Maybe it was the chance to dress up in the blue silk dress I’d splurged on last year, or the fact that I could temporarily shed the tough-coach exterior for something more feminine.

But it wasn’t just about the dress or the glamour. One of the things that made these events so special was seeing the people who benefited from them right in front of me. Hearing their stories and witnessing their excitement made everything feel more... real.

“And then I did a pirouette!” Emma, a little girl who would benefit from the community center, demonstrated, wobbling slightly. “But I can only practice in our living room, and Mom always says I’m going to break something.”

I laughed, remembering my own early days of figure skating. “I used to practice spins in my kitchen. I broke three glasses and a coffee maker before my mom banned indoor skating.”

The mention of my mom brought the familiar twinge, but Emma’s excited chatter pushed it away. The community center would have a dedicated dance studio. No more kitchen pirouettes needed.

“The St. James Foundation is doing amazing things,” Maria said, squeezing her daughter’s shoulders. “We never thought we’d see something like this in our neighborhood. The academic support will also be great now that the math is getting harder.”

I thought of Paige’s boyfriends, Ryker, Luca, and Garrett, who had turned their considerable resources toward making a difference in Ryker’s childhood neighborhood.

“Mind if I get a few shots for the foundation’s social media?”

I turned to find Carter, camera raised. His bow tie was slightly crooked in a way that somehow made his whole perfectly tailored tuxedo look effortlessly sexy. He flashed a smile that probably made panties spontaneously combust across the city.

I wanted to roll my eyes but smiled right back at him instead. When I’d first been introduced to him when I’d arrived, I’d immediately been attracted to him. He had the most expressive blue eyes and a polished look, but something about him still buzzed with barely-contained chaos.

It was the type of chaos I wanted to see, preferably in the bedroom.

After a few photos, a volunteer approached to escort the Martinez family to their table for dinner. Carter lowered his camera but didn’t step back from where he’d moved closer once we’d finished with photos.

“I have to say, that’s quite the camera.” I gestured to the professional equipment hanging around his neck. “Seems a bit excessive for event photography.”

He adjusted his camera strap in a way that made his biceps flex beneath his jacket. “I like having the right equipment for every situation. Plus, it helps me capture...” His gaze traveled down my body and back up, lingering long enough to make my pulse quicken. “...all the important details.”

“Smooth.” I took a sip of champagne to hide my smile. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“I don’t know.” He stepped closer, close enough that I caught the spicy notes of his cologne. “You tell me. Is it working?”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider. “Guess we’ll find out.”

He snapped a photo, his gaze lingering on me, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “While I’m enjoying taking photos tonight, I have to say, some subjects make the process a lot more... enjoyable.”

“Now that was a line.” I traced my finger along the rim of my champagne glass, enjoying the slight buzz that made flirting with a gorgeous man feel even more delicious than usual.

“Guilty as charged.” His smile was devastating up close, all perfect white teeth and a tiny dimple in his right cheek that made me want to lean in and taste it. “But would it help if I told you I meant every word?”

I was considering my next move when I felt the unmistakable prickling feeling of being watched. I glanced around, locking eyes with Dominic, who was leaning against the bar across the room.

Carter followed my gaze. “Ah, I see your best friend is watching us with rapt attention.”

“Excuse me?” I forced my attention back to Carter, who was staring at me with knowing amusement.

Carter nodded his chin toward the bar. “I think he has a little crush on his coach.”

“You talked about me with him? Are you two friends?” I couldn’t keep the disgust off my face.

He shrugged. “We know each other through the elaborate web of siblings and friends.”

Speaking of the elaborate web of siblings and friends, the foundation’s executive director, Leo, took the small stage at the front of the room. “If you could all find your seats for dinner, service will be starting shortly.”

I hadn’t even bothered checking my table assignment when I’d arrived. “What table are you at?”

Carter placed a hand at the small of my back, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of my dress as he guided me toward the tables. He leaned in close enough that his breath tickled my ear, making my skin tingle. “Lucky number seven.”

The way he said it, all low and intimate, like we were sharing secrets, made goosebumps spread across my skin. “What a coincidence.”

“I wish I could take credit.” Carter’s grin suggested he absolutely would have orchestrated it if he could have.

We approached the table that already had Dominic seated at it with his arms crossed, looking like he’d rather be getting dental surgery without anesthesia. His scowl deepened to truly impressive depths as Carter pulled out my chair for me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dominic muttered, taking a drink of amber liquid from his glass. “Who the hell made these seating charts?”

I slid into the chair across from him, arranging my dress carefully to avoid any wardrobe malfunctions. “Good evening to you too, Wilson. Enjoying the fundraiser?”

He glared at me, then at Carter, who was pulling out the chair next to mine with an exaggerated flourish. “About as much as I enjoy skating all-outs.”

“So, your absolute favorite thing then.” I smiled sweetly. “I’ll remember that for our next skills session.”

Before Dominic could respond with what I’m sure would have been a deeply mature comeback, Paige dropped into the chair beside me. “I’m so glad it’s dinner time. I’ve been stuck listening to some guy explain cryptocurrency to me for the last twenty minutes. I almost stabbed myself with a shrimp fork to escape. I still don’t get how it works or the point of it, even though he used some sticker analogy like I was five.”

I gave my best friend a hug. She’d been so busy when I’d arrived that I hadn’t had the chance to talk to her. “Where are your men?”

Paige gestured vaguely around the room like she was conducting an invisible orchestra. “Dividing and conquering the potential big donors.”

The conversation shifted as more people joined our table, filling the remaining seats. A woman wearing enough pearls to sink a small ship immediately latched onto the fact that Dominic was a hockey player in the NHL.

“Oh, how exciting! My grandson plays hockey. He’s eight.” She beamed at Dominic like he was about to give her his autograph. “What position do you play, dear?”

Dominic’s jaw twitched as he fought back what I was sure would be a less-than-polite response. If he didn’t want to be here, why did he even bother coming? “Center.”

“Center?” Carter’s brow furrowed in an expression of confusion so perfect it had to be practiced. “Is that like... the middle of the ice?”

I bit back a laugh as Dominic’s expression darkened further. “Something like that.”

“The upcoming season looks promising,” another guest chimed in, clearly more knowledgeable about the sport. “The team’s made some interesting changes.”

“Like hiring a female coach.” One of the men eyed me with the kind of look I’d gotten used to ignoring. “That must be... different.”

Dominic straightened in his seat, but before he could speak, Carter jumped in with impeccable timing. “Is that where the goalkeeper stands? The center?” He turned to me and winked, and I couldn’t quite tell if this was his way of deflecting from the conversation or if he was serious.

“No, that’s the goalie. They’re the ones with all the padding.” I held my arms out like they were covered in thick pads. “Centers are more... mobile.”

“Oh!” Carter nodded enthusiastically, like he’d just discovered the recipe for the secret sauce for his favorite hamburger. “Like in soccer?”

Dominic made a choking sound that suggested he might need the Heimlich maneuver. “It’s nothing like soccer.”

“The puck is smaller though, right?” Carter had to be playing up his ignorance to get under Dominic’s skin. The subtle quirk of his lips gave him away.

Dominic’s eyes burned into me as I explained basic hockey concepts to Carter, who managed to ask increasingly ridiculous questions with a straight face that deserved an Oscar nomination.

“So, you’re not allowed to pick up the puck and throw it?” Carter’s eyes darted to where Dominic was aggressively cutting into a scallop the waitress had dropped off.

The other men at our table looked scandalized, as if Carter had suggested we all start a food fight. Paige was practically crying with silent laughter beside me, her shoulders shaking as she pressed her napkin to her mouth.

“That’s only allowed on alternate Tuesdays.” I tried to hide my smile as I took a bite of my appetizer but failed.

Carter’s laugh was magnetic, making something warm flutter in my stomach. I was acutely aware of Dominic’s intense stare boring into me, but I kept my focus on Carter and my food.

“Well, as enlightening as this hockey lesson has been, I should make my rounds before the main course.” Carter grabbed his camera from where he’d hung it on his chair and slid the strap around his neck.

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing my ear. “Be a good girl while I’m gone.”

Heat bloomed across my skin at his words, and I was tempted to take a sip of water to cool down. When I glanced up, Dominic was watching me with an unreadable expression, his knuckles white around his glass. What the hell was his problem?

I turned my attention back to Carter, meeting his gaze directly. I knew exactly what I wanted tonight, and that was him. “Only if you show me some of those photos later.”

Something hot and promising crackled between us. It was the kind of chemistry that usually led to a thoroughly enjoyable night. And really, what was wrong with that?

His eyes darkened with interest, and he shifted closer, his arm brushing against mine. The touch sent electricity skittering across my skin. “I don’t live too far from here.” He spoke only for my ears, and the way it was full of promise made it clear we wouldn’t be spending much time looking at photography.

Carter stood and snapped a few pictures of the table before heading off to do his thing.

Paige leaned in, lowering her voice. “What the hell was that?”

I gave my friend a totally not-so-innocent smile. “You just watched a pro seal the deal.”

She rolled her eyes. “Be careful.”

“Yes, Mom. Although, last year I recall telling you to go out and get yourself some, and you went out and got yourself three.”

She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m the real pro in this friendship.”

“Keep telling yourself that. My love life is going great. Very low effort.”

“Ah, yes. The occasional hot guy, no strings attached. A flawless love story, really.”

We ended up in a fit of giggles that was partially fueled by the champagne and partially from being back together again. When she’d moved to New York over a year ago from Los Angeles, it had been rough.

“Here’s to strong, independent women doing whatever, and whoever, the hell they want.” I lifted my champagne glass in a toast.

Before we could clink glasses, a throat cleared beside us. I turned to find a server placing the first course in front of us, signaling that dinner was officially starting.

As I picked up my fork, I caught the tail end of a conversation about coaching and team dynamics. I barely had time to brace myself before the man who’d made the comment about my hiring—Arnold something-or-other according to his place card—decided to share his opinion.

“Professional sports have certain... structures. Messing with that can really mess up the game.” Arnold dug into his lobster with a practiced skill that was impressive.

I’d heard this song and dance before. Usually from men who thought hockey knowledge was stored in the testicles. I prepared my standard professional response, the one that wouldn’t get me fired or make headlines.

“Coach Hastings has already had an impact,” the more knowledgeable guest, Pete, jumped in. “Skating is such a huge part of the game now. Edge work, explosiveness, and efficiency make all the difference between a good player and a great one. The Pacific Storm really had a great season last year.”

“That was her father’s team.” Arnold waved his fork dismissively. “Family connections can open a lot of doors.”

Of course. Because clearly, I’d just ridden my daddy’s coattails straight into the NHL. Never mind the years I’d spent working my way up through junior leagues and college programs.

Dominic’s fork clinked against his plate as he not-so-subtly set it down. “Coach Hastings got the job because she sees things other coaches miss and knows how to fix them.”

I nearly choked on the baby potato I’d popped in my mouth. Was Dominic Wilson, the same man who’d spent the last week fighting me on every single instruction, defending me?

All attention was on Dominic now, who looked bored to even be having to even discuss this. “She pointed out inefficiencies in my stride that no one else had caught and adjusted my transitions so I’m not bleeding speed on my turns.” He looked Arnold dead in the eye, almost daring him to challenge him. “So instead of questioning her qualifications, you should wonder why no one else noticed or corrected it sooner.”

The table was absolutely silent. Even Pearl Lady stopped mid-chew to stare at Dominic.

“I... well, I suppose...” Arnold fumbled, clearly not expecting pushback from an actual player.

“More champagne?” The server appeared at just the right moment, breaking the tension.

“Yes, please,” Paige and I said in unison, holding up our glasses.

As the conversation shifted to safer topics like the construction progress for the community center, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Dominic. He’d gone back to brooding over his plate like nothing had happened, but something had definitely shifted.

But that didn’t mean I was going to go any easier on him. If anything, knowing he respected my coaching made me want to push him harder.