Page 7

Chapter 7

Double Crap with a Side of More Crap

Nora

T he first rays of morning sunlight filtering through the window were like tiny daggers to my retinas. I blinked slowly, taking inventory of my current situation. To my left, Carter’s arm was draped across my waist, and to my right, Dominic’s muscular thigh was pressed against mine. Both men were still sound asleep, their breathing deep and steady.

Holy hockey pucks. I’d actually done it. Not once, but twice. The memory of our escapades on the flybridge, followed by the encore performance in the room, made heat rise to my cheeks. I might not be hungover, but I was feeling... something. And it wasn’t just the soreness in muscles I hadn’t used in interesting ways since I’d moved to New York.

With the stealth of a ninja, or at least someone trying not to wake two very naked men, I carefully extracted myself from between them. The cool air hit my skin, and I suppressed a shiver as I surveyed the various articles of clothing scattered around the floor like breadcrumbs marking our path of debauchery.

This was fine. Totally fine. I’d had plenty of casual hookups before. Granted, usually not with two guys in the same hole at once, and definitely not with one of my players, but... details. The weird flutter in my stomach when I glanced at Dominic’s sleeping form was probably indigestion from the champagne. Nothing more.

Speaking of which, I was never drinking again. At least not during hockey season. Professional lines had been crossed that I’d spent years carefully maintaining, and while I couldn’t exactly un-ring that bell, I could make damn sure it didn’t happen again.

I gathered my dress and purse, tiptoeing to the bathroom like I was diffusing a bomb. Once safely inside, I checked my phone. It was six, and morning skate was at eight. I still needed to get home, shower, and somehow transform from a woman who had a night of mind-blowing sex with two men to a completely professional coach.

My reflection in the mirror told quite a story. My neck bore evidence of enthusiasm that would require strategic scarf placement or an obscene amount of cover-up, and my hair looked like I’d stuck my finger in an electrical socket. I quickly pulled it up into a bun with the hair tie I always kept in my purse for emergencies. Like post-threesome walk-of-shame emergencies, apparently.

The dress from last night felt like it was judging me as I slipped it back on, the silky fabric catching on my skin like tiny accusatory fingers. I’d slept with Dominic. A player. On my team. The reality of what I’d done crashed over me with the subtlety of a cement truck. Apparently, when I decided to trash my career, I really committed to the cause.

My nose burned with the threat of tears, and I pressed my fingertips against my closed eyelids. How could I have been so careless? Years of hard work demolished in one champagne-soaked night of bad judgment.

Shaking my head at myself, I squared my shoulders and channeled my inner Joan of Arc, minus the whole burning-at-the-stake part. Time to put on my game face and pretend this hadn’t happened.

I crept back into the cabin and picked up my shoes. I decided it would be best to put them on in the hall because I did not want to deal with the awkward morning after with two men. I almost made it to the door when Dominic’s eyes popped open, and I nearly jumped out of my skin as we locked eyes in a silent standoff.

There were probably a million things we should say, but neither of us said a word as I slipped out into the hall. Freedom was within reach, and I steadied myself against the wall to slip on my shoes.

“Nora?”

I paused with my heel halfway on and looked up to find Libby coming out of one of the other rooms. I didn’t know her that well yet, but she was friends with Paige and was also one of the founders of the foundation the charity dinner had been for.

“Uh… hi.” I finished putting on my shoes and smoothed down my dress. “Just woke up and was heading out.”

I flinched as she looked at the door only a few feet away. She had to know that Carter had the key to it, seeing as how she was in a relationship with his best friend.

“We’re going to have breakfast in a bit if you and Carter want to join us.”

“Thank you for the invite, but I need to head out so I’m not late for morning skate.” I glanced at the door, hoping with every fiber of my being that neither man would open it. “Have you and Paige figured out when you’re going to start that book club?”

“We’re currently arguing over which book, but as soon as we decide, we’ll invite people to join.” She started walking with me down the hall, and I sighed in relief because the longer we stayed in front of the door, the more likely it was to open. “I’ll have Paige start a group text.”

“Sounds great.” I gave her a quick parting hug as we got to the doors leading out onto the deck. Any other day, I would have stayed for breakfast, but time and my pride were not on my side.

As soon as I was outside, I quickened my retreat, my heels clicking against the deck like a metronome counting down the seconds until I could escape this floating monument to my poor choices. But at least those poor choices had led to multiple orgasms and a delicious ache between my legs.

There were a few more steps to freedom. I could see the gangway, my gateway to pretending none of this had happened. Maybe if I walked fast enough, I could outrun my conscience.

“Nora! Wait up!”

Crap. Double crap with a side of more crap. The universe really had it out for me this morning, didn’t it?

For a split second, I considered pretending I hadn’t heard Carter’s voice calling after me. But unless I suddenly developed the ability to teleport, there was no graceful way to avoid this conversation.

I turned around, plastering on what I hoped was a casual smile rather than the grimace it felt like. My facial muscles strained with the effort. “Good morning.”

Carter jogged up to me, looking unfairly perfect for someone who’d gotten as little sleep as I had. His hair was mussed, he’d thrown on only his pants, and hadn’t bothered with shoes.

In the daylight and sober, he was even more attractive. There was a hint of ab muscles showing, and the light trail of dark hair leading into his pants almost made me forget about my carefully crafted hookup rules.

Almost.

“Hey.” He stopped just out of reach, and my traitorous body betrayed me by leaning forward slightly, like a sun-deprived leaf seeking sunlight. “I wanted to catch you before you left. You didn’t have to run off so quickly.”

“Oh?” I tried for nonchalant, but my voice came out squeakier than a mouse in a cheese factory. I cleared my throat, trying to hide the effect he had on me. “I have a tight schedule and didn’t want to wake you.”

He stepped closer, concern etching lines between his brows. “Are you okay? About everything that happened?”

The genuine worry in his voice made something twist in my chest. Why did he have to be so nice? It would be so much easier if he were an entitled prick I could dismiss without a second thought. But no, he had to go and be thoughtful and considerate on top of everything else.

“I’m fine.” I fiddled with the strap of my purse. “Really. Last night was...” Amazing? Mind-blowing? Career-ending? A lapse in judgment that felt way too good to regret? “...fun.”

A slow smile spread across his face, making his blue eyes crinkle at the corners. “That’s one way to put it.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. “I realized I didn’t get your number. I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. I know this amazing little Italian place that serves the best garlic knots.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I felt like a complete asshole when his smile faltered.

He rubbed his jaw, looking confused. “Because of Dominic?”

I almost laughed. If only that was my only problem. “No, it’s not that. I don’t date. At all. My life is complicated enough without adding dating to the mix.”

“Who said anything about dating?” He took another step closer, that charming smile back in full force. “I want to buy you dinner and see where things go.”

“That’s the definition of dating, isn’t it? And things went pretty far last night.” I tried to ignore how good he smelled. How was that even possible after everything we’d done? “And while it was fantastic, it should probably stay a one-time thing.”

“Technically it was a two-time thing.” His eyes glinted with memories that made my toes curl in my shoes.

“You’re not making this easier.” I’d tried casual situationships before, and they never ended well. Someone always wanted more than the other person wanted to give. And usually, it was me who didn’t want more.

“I’m not trying to.” He shrugged, completely unapologetic. “I like you, Nora. You’re smart, sexy, and you don’t take shit from anyone. Why not see what happens?”

Because I’d worked too hard to get where I am. Because relationships were messy and complicated and always ended badly. Because I’d watched my dad have his heart destroyed when my mom died, spending years trying to put himself back together and still not becoming whole. Because, because, because...

“I appreciate the offer, but I really need to focus on my career right now. The team has to be my priority.” Why was this starting to sound like a job interview?

Disappointment flickered in his eyes. “Okay. But if you change your mind...” He dug in his other back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and held out a business card. “Text or call me anytime.”

I took it, more out of politeness than intention to use it.

“For what it’s worth,” he said as I turned to leave, “I think you’re selling yourself short. Having a career and a personal life aren’t mutually exclusive.”

I managed a small smile but didn’t respond. I had a personal life, just not one that involved men who looked at me like I was something precious rather than convenient. Men were messy, and I couldn’t afford to lose focus now. No matter how tempting he might be.

As I made my way off the yacht, I pulled out my phone to call a ride, deliberately not looking back at the yacht or the man I was leaving behind. I had ninety minutes to get home, make myself look presentable, and transform back into Coach Hastings.

The business card burned a hole in my purse all the way home.

* * *

“Unbelievable,” I muttered to my empty office.

We’d barely won our first exhibition game, but that wasn’t the point. The point was Dominic had played exactly one period, and in those precious fifteen minutes had managed to revert to every bad habit I thought we’d corrected. There wasn’t even a hint of effort.

I rewound the footage again, hoping to see something different. What annoyed me most was that I’d seen him execute perfect transitions during morning skate. He could do it. He just... wasn’t. The man was talented enough to get away with technical flaws that would bench a lesser player.

I glanced at the time and decided to call it a night. My apartment was calling my name, along with the pint of Ben & Jerry’s I’d been saving for a special occasion. Like surviving another day without strangling the most talented player on the team.

The facility had grown quiet around me, with most of the staff clearing out hours ago, leaving only the security team and the cleaning crew. The hallway lights had dimmed to their evening setting, casting long shadows as I made my way toward the exit.

The sound of weights slamming onto the rack cut through the quiet as I passed the team gym. Curiosity pulled me toward the sound, and I pushed open the door to find Dominic, shirtless and gleaming with sweat, resting at the squat rack. His face was a mask of concentration, earbuds jammed in his ears as he pushed through a workout he shouldn’t have been doing.

I leaned against the doorframe, torn between professional concern and... something else entirely. Something inappropriate and distracting that had absolutely no business existing within these walls, let alone in my head.

He hadn’t noticed me yet, lost in whatever music pumped through his earbuds as he ducked back under the bar. The weights clinked as he placed the bar across his broad shoulders before stepping back from the rack. His form was impeccable as he descended into a controlled squat and stood back up.

My breath hitched before I could stop it. A completely involuntary response to the sweat-slick muscles and the focused furrow of his brow. The memory of his body moving against mine flashed through my mind. Then my brain caught up, shoving the thought aside with the force of a slap.

Dominic finally registered my presence as he completed his set, yanking out an earbud. His eyes narrowed as he grabbed a towel from a nearby bench and wiped his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” I nodded toward the weights, trying not to get distracted by the way his muscles rippled as he unracked his weights. “You should be home resting.”

Defensiveness flashed in his eyes, and his jaw clenched in a way that made me want to simultaneously shake him and, well, other things. “I know my body’s limits and capabilities. I’ve been doing this long enough to figure that out on my own.”

“Do you? Because your skating technique earlier tells a different story.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. The conversation did need to happen but not tonight.

Dominic dropped two of the weights onto the stack. “We won, didn’t we?” He pulled out his other earbud, aggressively shoving it into his pocket.

“Winning doesn’t mean?—”

“Doesn’t mean I played well. Yeah, I’ve heard that speech before.” He reached for his shirt, yanking it over his head.

I exhaled slowly, shifting tactics. “Your recovery matters just as much as your training. If you’re burning yourself out here, it’s going to show up in your game, especially when you’re working on moving in ways that go against your muscle memory.”

His laugh echoed through the empty gym as his gaze swept over me with the kind of dismissive arrogance that made me want to throw something at his ridiculously handsome face. Where was my clipboard when I needed it? “You love telling people what to do, don’t you? Not just on the ice.”

Heat crawled up my neck, not from embarrassment but from the kind of slow-burning anger that came from dealing with a petulant man-child. “That was uncalled for.”

“Was it?” His eyes locked onto mine, challenge radiating from every pore as he stepped closer, invading my space with his towering presence and the lingering scent of his body wash mixed with sweat.

“Yes.” My pulse betrayed me with a skip.

“I don’t think it was. You get off on control.” He tilted his head, studying me like he was waiting for me to crack first. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk that I wanted to wipe off his face… preferably with my lips. No. Definitely not with my lips.

“But you liked it, didn’t you? Me being in control?” My fingers itched to grab a handful of his hair and bring his lips to mine, a craving that made me want to kick myself. Because I knew exactly how those lips felt, how his stubble would scratch against my skin, and how his hands would grip my hips with the right amount of pressure.

Worse, I knew the satisfied little growl he’d make in the back of his throat. My traitorous body ignored the fact that I couldn’t give in to my impulses as my core tightened with need.

His eyes dropped to my lips, and I held my breath. “If you told me to get on my knees for you right now, I—” The door leading to the locker room swung open before he could finish his sentence.

Miles walked in, a bottle of water in one hand and his bag in the other. “Bro, I thought you said one more set. I’m about to eat my own arm I’m so fucking hungry.” He froze when he realized Dominic wasn’t alone, his eyes darting between us as his frown deepened. “Everything okay in here?”

“Just getting some coaching advice. Apparently, I need more rest.” Dominic’s posture shifted instantly, shoulders dropping as he stepped back and broke eye contact. The mask of indifference slipped back into place so smoothly I almost doubted the intensity I’d witnessed seconds earlier.

“She’s not wrong.” Miles cringed as Dominic pegged him with a glare. “We’re getting old.”

“Maybe you’re feeling like an old man, but I’m not because I put the work in.” Dominic walked over to a bench where his phone was. “Give me five minutes to change.”

As Dominic disappeared into the locker room, Miles turned to me, confusion written across his face. “Did I interrupt something?”

I honestly didn’t know the answer to that. Would one of us have snapped and acted on the tension that still hummed between us from the night before? If the tingling still going on between my legs was any indication, I wasn’t sure I would have been able to resist him. “Just Dominic being Dominic.”

“Yeah…” Miles hesitated, looking over at the locker room. “He gets like this sometimes when the pressure is high, especially at the beginning and end of the season.”

Why did it feel like I was becoming the pressure point? “Well, he needs to channel that energy more productively.”

Miles nodded, his eyes softening. “Hey, we’re going to grab some food. You should join us.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” My body betrayed me for the second time in as many minutes as my stomach growled its displeasure.

Miles grinned, the kind of easy smile that probably got him out of trouble his whole life. “Your stomach disagrees. Come on, Coach. You’ve got to eat sometime, and we’re going to my favorite diner. Their fries will change your life.”

I should say no. I should go home to my sad pint of ice cream, but the friendliness in Miles’s expression made me pause. Maybe normal food with normal conversation was exactly what I needed.