Page 52 of Off-Ice Misconduct (Daddies of the League #8)

DECEMBER

Ace

I don’t know half the people here, but Coach says they’re all hockey buffs, interested in the team, so I’ll chat them up.

The whole team’s here, dressed in our finest, the smell of pine and cinnamon lingering in the air.

Garlands wrap around banisters, fairy lights blink in the windows, and some jazzy version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” is playing low in the background.

The whole place feels weirdly cozy for a hockey fundraiser.

The crowd seems to part for him, my man, as he makes his way through the crowd toward his brother. I watch from the other side of the room where I’m standing with my friends.

I asked him to come with me. I meant everywhere—he knows I meant everywhere, right? Not just this event. I guess I can’t expect him to come to frat parties, and would I want him to? Dunno. But I know I don’t want to travel around fucking missing him like I do.

“Close your mouth, Cap,” Shep says.

But there’s no way I can, not even long enough to snark back.

I’m not ashamed about my dropping jaw, or the drool that’s about to fall out.

Luke’s wearing his suit, the one that makes him look like he owns the whole world, and I’m damn well gonna admire him.

I can still make out all his muscles, but they’re wrapped in a fancy package like Luke’s my Christmas present.

My eyes flick to his crotch, because I’m a fucking dog. My ass still aches from the cock I know is responsible for that crotch bulge. Okay, I’m drooling now, but anybody with a man like mine would.

Huh. Luke’s standing under the mistletoe. Wish I could go over there with a cheesy line and have him attack me with a kiss … hey!

A tall woman in a red dress glides into his sphere on her designer heels—right under the mistletoe with him.

That’s my fucking place. I don’t know who she is, but I do know she’s standing way too close to my man.

Does she know it’s there? Is she doing it on purpose?

Damn, I’ve turned into an over-possessive asshole overnight. I’ve never been like that, never cared.

“If mistle-ho touches him, I might have to accidentally push her into the chocolate fountain,” I grumble under my breath.

“ Bro ,” Bender says.

“What? It’s not my fault gravity works.”

Maybe I wouldn’t feel as anxious about it if I could walk over there and brand him, but I can’t. I’m left to sit over here, stewing.

Luke catches my laser eyes over the top of her head. The smug bastard smirks, reading me like a book. He lifts his drink and mouths something over the rim.

Jealous?

He’s having way too much fun with this. “On second thought, I might drown him in the chocolate fountain, too.”

“You need help,” Bender says.

“No, I need to build an electric fence around my man.” That’s it. I’m going over there.

“Cap … Ace . What the fuck are you…? Fine, your funeral,” Shep mutters, linking pinky fingers with Bender. They’ve been happy to show their relationship off to the hockey team, but less so in the house where Hudson is, even though they keep saying he’s fine with it.

Anyway, I’m gone. I have something very important to discuss with Coach, who just so happens to be standing with my hot boyfriend Luke and little Miss Sexy Candy Cane.

It’s pure coincidence.

“Hey, Coach,” I say, standing as close to Luke as I dare. I still smell like him. Will she be able to tell? Probably not, but it’s a nice thought.

“What do you want, McKinnon?” Coach says.

“Oh, you know, just networking ,” I stress.

Coach isn’t stupid. I’m sure he clocked me from his periphery, storming over here like a jealous bull.

“Miss Lane was hoping I’d introduce you to her, Tate,” Luke says, barely able to bite back the laughter fighting to break free over my blatant posturing. “She’s interested in making a donation—something about hockey sticks.”

Coach’s lips twist the slightest amount. So small, only someone who knew him would catch it. Because now he’s going to have to talk to her. Pretty sure he planned on everyone else but him doing all the work at this thing.

I stand a little taller, smirking away at Coach. I should be careful with that. Tatum VanCourt doesn’t take kindly to punks, but soon, he won’t be my coach. If all goes well, maybe he’ll be my brother-in-law. Wow. Do I want to marry Luke?

Slooooow the fuck down, McKinnon.

But it’s just … that’s what this feeling is. Too fast. Too much. Out of control. It’s a false sense of invincibility. Life is better, everything’s better, because he’s in it.

They sprint off into a conversation about the rising cost of hockey sticks, and Luke and I are left on an island together, in a sea of all those people.

He shifts, angling his body just enough that we’re shoulder to shoulder.

Close enough to touch, but we don’t. My eyes flick up.

Yep, still under the mistletoe, but now I’m under it with him.

“So, enjoy her attention? She was awful fucking close,” I say for his ears only.

“Believe me, princess,” he says low and dark. “It wasn’t her attention I was enjoying. Kinda liked you racing over here like a territorial bunny.”

We’re talking about my jealous fit, but the way his gaze walks over my skin, I’m left feeling marked and owned. We won’t get to kiss under the mistletoe, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t claimed.

A wildly unimpressed Coach returns to us when he’s finished chatting with Miss Lane and she’s off to search for spiked eggnog.

“Why aren’t you happier? Hockey sticks are three hundred bucks a piece,” I remind him.

“She didn’t just want to talk hockey sticks, McKinnon.”

I knew it. She wants VanCourt cock and she’s willing to have it from either brother.

“So? You’re single and ready to mingle,” I say as if I know anything about his love life, which I don’t. Until I saw him fucking Ryan in my damn bed, I’d never caught wind of the mention of a boyfriend, or girlfriend—nothing.

“In other news, McKinnon,” he says ignoring my belligerent ass, “fundraising efforts are promising. So long as you and the team keep doing what you’re supposed to be doing—now get your ass out there.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“I remember when you used to say ‘yes, Coach’ to everything. Those were the days.”

Yeah, my loyalties have wandered off-ice.

Bend and Shep are with Mrs. Chamberlain near the peppermint hot chocolate bar in the corner. It’s kinda fucking sweet the way Shep’s full-on got his arm around Bender now, as if he’s afraid Mrs. Chamberlain’s gonna take him away.

“Cap, c’mere a sec.” Bender waves me over, a grin splitting his face.

“Hello, again, Mrs. Chamberlain,” I greet.

“Helmets—she’s donating the helmets for next season,” Bender says as if he’s been holding that information in for too long.

He shrugs out of Shep’s hold as if he’s a dirty shirt.

Shep sets a glare on him I’d never want to be under, but I get the distinct impression that Bend’s antagonizing him on purpose.

If that’s what they’re into, power to their dynamic. See? I can be the supportive bestie. I’ll just … keep a close eye on them.

“And a few other things, dear. I’ve been talking to the board. Convincing them that they want to shift a little more funding to the hockey team this year.”

“Wow, that’s great. Thank you, Mrs. Chamberlain.”

“We’re the home of Ace McKinnon,” she says. “And we need to give that the weight it deserves. Once you’re a big hockey star, that’ll bring a flood of top-quality rookies. Donors are always interested in donating to the talent.”

A flush creeps up my cheeks. “Thank you, but I just like hockey a lot. I’m nobody special.”

She shakes her head. “You are. We’re honored that you came to our school. You mean a lot to us, Ace.”

Shit. Whoa. That hits differently from her. Maybe because I know she was a fan of Mom’s? With Coach, I just feel like an asset, with her, I feel like a someone. My chest lifts.

“Thank you, ma’am. And I’m honored to be honored. Genuinely.”

“I love the way you young kids talk. Did you know in my day we said—he’s a cool cat? Now it’s, bro is lit, right?”

I laugh. “Something like that, Mrs. Chamberlain, but I don’t mind if you call me a cool cat.”

“Well then, cool cats, I’m retiring for the evening. This ol’ broad is tired.” She winks, tugging her fur coat around her shoulders. “See you at the next one.”

Mid-January

We’ve been waiting. Rumor has it, Beta Sigma’s finally over their “mysterious” flooding incident.

It took them a couple of months. Repairs weren’t cheap, and it sounds like they initially had trouble raising the funds.

Then they did. That was sometime around the end of November, early December.

It’s been over a month, and still nothing.

We’ve long since gotten over our beginning-of-the-year feud with Delta Gamma, so the “in” they had is gone, and thus their reason for attacking us, but they can’t be happy.

And even though we didn’t cause their water damage, I’m sure they think we did.

We have a bet going on how long it’ll take for them to finally show up with their retaliation.

Though, I hope it’s never. Things have finally smoothed out, and with the study schedule Luke’s set up for me, even my grades are kickass.

As he predicted, the hockey team followed suit—if I can do it, they can do it—and their grades haven’t been in jeopardy at all this semester.

We party less—not zero, less—and study more.

I’ve leaned into their help and have finally learned the true meaning of the word delegate.

The things Luke’s been saying penetrated my thick skull, but Mrs. Chamberlain sealed the deal.

You mean a lot to us, Ace.

Didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear it; how much I wanted this—being at Shadowridge U—to matter. Making it used to mean winning. Now it means carrying something. I want my time here to carry the love Mom had for this game and the university. And the love I found in it, too.