Page 7 of Racing Heat (The Forbidden Heat #2)

Chapter Seven

~JASE~

I’m leaning against a wall, holding it up just as I said I would.

It doesn’t take long for August to come find me and pull me toward the bar so that we can sit and chat.

He doesn’t like to hang out with the other coaches.

Nate doesn’t really give him the time of day.

Something about not enjoying hanging out with his boss.

Truth be told, I think it’s because they’re from two different worlds.

August is a classic bachelor who loves to chase tail, and Nate is more of a family man.

He’d rather talk with those he has more in common with.

I know the Cromwell’s frustrate him. Nate has said more than once that they don’t know how to spend money.

That some of the things they’ve provided the girls are luxuries they don’t need.

“What’s up your ass tonight? You don’t seem like you’re in the celebrating mood,” August says when we’re seated at the bar. “Your keeper had an outstanding performance tonight. I thought you’d be hanging out with the rest of them.”

I shrug. “What about you? You’ve been off to the side too. What’s the matter, August, don’t you connect with the common man?”

“I connect with you,” he tells me.

“Asshole,” I reply.

The bartender comes over. “What will it be?” she asks.

She’s grinning at us like she’d like to take one of us—or maybe both—into the back room and ravish us. Her perky tits are straining against the tight shirt she’s wearing. It’s cut low and leaves very little to the imagination. I wonder what the rest of her body looks like.

“I’ll take a lager, please,” August orders.

“Make it two, please,” I say. “And you know what? Add in a shot of Jack.”

She nods. “Are we celebrating something tonight?” She shimmies in front of us, the action making August stupid.

He’s grinning back at her like an idiot.

Those breasts have him hypnotized. I fight the urge to look back at Cassie, who’s wearing a tight black top with jeans that look like they were painted onto her toned legs.

I shake my head to push thoughts of her from my mind, and the perky bartender, who isn’t wearing a name tag, takes that as an answer.

“Oh, so we’re not celebrating. Maybe I should give you boys something to celebrate.”

“We are celebrating,” August corrects her. “Our team just tied a pretty big game. Put us in great standing for the playoffs.”

“Celebrating a tie, huh?” She giggles. “What other kinds of things could be celebrated tonight?”

August leans in closer. “What did you have in mind?”

I can see the glint in his eye when I look over at him. He’s actually interested in taking this woman home. It doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve seen him land hotter chicks than this, and ones with much more class. But maybe when in Rome…or whatever it is they say.

“Oh, I was thinking the three of us could make our way into the back,” she says. “Might be a better way to celebrate your tie.” She puts air quotes around the word tie. She’s lost August.

He leans back and straightens up, the smile leaving his face immediately. “Just the drinks tonight,” he replies curtly.

I beam at him with pride. I’m glad to hear he’s standing up for our girls. Because while it’s not a win, a tie edges us closer to the playoffs. And we’re a team that no one thought would win.

So, the tie is big.

“Good for you,” I tell him, patting him on the back.

“Yeah, let’s not acknowledge what I did there,” he says with a shake of his head.

“Worried someone might call your manhood into question because you turned down a three-way?”

He scoffs. “I would not have done a three-way with you.”

“I’m a catch,” I tease him.

“Have you ever done a three-way?” August is clearly invested in having this conversation. He’s turned his stool and is now facing me, practically salivating over the answer I’m going to give him.

“I’m not answering that question,” I tell him.

Our beers and shots arrive.

“Cheers.” I hold my shot glass up and wait for him to clink them together. August watches me for a moment. “Cheers,” I say again, waiting for him. “Come on, man. It’s bad form not to clink your glass with mine.”

Shaking his head, August picks up the glass. “Cheers.”

We both down our shots. He’s the first to speak. “Just trying to make some conversation.”

“Have you?” I ask him.

“Have you?” He lobs the question back at me.

It’s that moment that some of the team comes over to order more drinks. And of course, Cassie is one of them.

“Are you harassing my coach?” Hendrix asks August. Because of course she would have a smart-ass comment for him.

“I’m just trying to get an answer out of him.” August picks up his beer and takes a sip.

“What’s the question?” Amelia asks, her brown eyes and long blonde hair almost making her look doll-like.

“If he’s ever had a threesome,” August proudly announces.

Cassie chokes on air.

“Are you okay?” I ask her. But her eyes won’t meet mine. Great.

“Have you?” Mac asks. “Wait, have you?” She looks over at August with disgust. “Of course you have. You would go home with a bar napkin if it showed enough interest in you.”

The girls are all laughing at the remark. Clearly, they think August is just as gross as Mac does.

“He actually wouldn’t,” I jump in, defending him. “That bartender down there who’s working on your drinks tried to take him into the back room. August said no because she mocked our tie.”

“Well, wonders never cease,” Hendrix replies. “You do have some standards after all.”

Again, there’s laughter from the girls. From all but Cassie. She’s watching me—more like studying me. I wonder what’s going on in that pretty head of hers.

I don’t want to answer him. The answer would make August proud and might kill her at the same time.

“You have, haven’t you?” August slaps me on the back. “I like you so much more now.”

I chuckle. “Does this get me a raise?”

August throws his head back, laughing. “You wouldn’t think so, but it just might.” He laughs again and shakes his head.

“Nice to know how easily you can be bought,” I mutter.

I steal a glance at Cassie. Her eyes are downcast and she’s studying her hands. From what I can tell, she’s wringing them. Her eyes are tight and she’s biting her lip. I want to pick at that for a moment and figure out why, but I don’t.

Instead, I look at August. He’s still on cloud nine.

“I think this calls for more shots,” he calls out to the girls who have gathered around us. “Who all wants some celebratory shots on me?” Even Nate and Lucas are there, cheering him on.

“You’re going to practically buy the whole bar a round of shots?” I ask him.

“The whole bar?” His eyebrows raise.

“Look around you, buddy. The whole bar is basically Blaze players and staff.”

“Well, good. Then they can’t say I never bought them anything.” August grins, seemingly happy to do this for the team and the staff. “Barkeep, I need a round of shots for the whole bar!” he announces.

The bar cheers—those who are part of the Blaze organization and those who aren’t.

“It would be a shame to leave them out,” he says in explanation.

“You’re a good man, August,” I tell him.

“Really? All it took was me buying you some shots for you to call me that, huh? Or is it because I got you to tell me that you had a threesome? Which I still want the details of, by the way.”

I shake my head. “No, that’s not it. I just don’t think you realize what you did here. And that’s okay.”

It’s not worth explaining to him that when I was in the league, it was rare that management came out with us like this.

They never bought us drinks and barely treated us like we were people.

Instead, they mostly stayed in the offices or the luxury boxes.

But not August. He’s determined to make this team a family.

The girls might not be able to see that it’s what he’s doing, but I do.

And I’m thankful for it. It makes him a little more tolerable in my book, and a good man.

But that’s not necessarily something I can explain to him tonight. Not in this loud bar with shots being passed around.

“That’s gonna be a hell of a bill,” Mac says with a laugh.

“I don’t give a shit. Totally worth it,” August tells her. “Don’t drink your shots until everyone has one. We’re gonna toast!”

The whole bar erupts in cheers. Cassie’s eyes dart around like she’s trying to look anywhere but at me or anyone else at this table. I hate that the knowledge of my threesome may be killing her.

Once everyone has a drink, which takes longer than I expect it to, August jumps up on his barstool, getting everyone’s attention with a whistle.

“Everyone! I want you to raise your shot glass to the women of the Tampa Bay Blaze. They went out there and played one hell of a game. They deserve to be celebrated tonight, and they deserve to get shit-faced. So, if you can, buy these girls a drink.” Cheers erupt from all around him again. “To the Blaze!” he shouts.

“To the Blaze!” the whole bar cheers.

I laugh at all the celebrations breaking out around me.

I almost don’t get to do my shot with the rest; I’m so enamored by how August pulled them all together.

Sure, he’s a smooth talker, but he’s also good with people.

It’s what’s going to help him go far with this team. And it’s also what gets him laid too.

Downing my shot, I add the glass to the bar with the rest of them. It’s time to get up and move. I grab my beer and slide off the stool. I make a beeline for Cassie, who’s standing a bit off by herself. I wonder if it’s all because of me and what she learned tonight.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“For someone who scored the lone goal tonight and kept us well within playoff berth, I would say you shouldn’t be this sad.”

She shakes her head. “There’s nothing wrong with my mood.”

“Do you need another shot?” I tease her.

“Might help,” she admits.

“I’m not sure August will buy another round for the bar.”

“Oh, and you wouldn’t buy me one, right?” She’s getting drunk on the alcohol, but I wish she was drunk on me.

I’m not sure what to say to that, so I lean in closer to her and whisper, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

She giggles and steps back so that I’m not so much in her space anymore. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“What type would do something like that?” I ask her.

“August.” She grins at me, nodding adamantly at her choice. “He would do something like that. You just seem too wholesome.”

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do. I had a whole other life across the pond.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?” It’s her turn to lean into me now.

“No.” I smile. “That’s usually something I reserve for date-night conversation.”

“And this isn’t a date,” she reminds me.

“Oh, I know that. This isn’t the type of place I like to take my dates.”

“Where do you like to take them?”

“Out for a nice meal of fish and chips maybe. A nice pub where we can order a few pints and share war stories. Or if she’s feeling fancy, a nice dinner—have a steak with a nice bottle of wine.” I pause and take a swig of my beer.

“And share war stories,” she finishes for me.

“Exactly.”

Cassie laughs and I love the sound. It’s so light and happy. Almost sounds like a bell.

“Would someone like you enjoy a date like that?” I’m flirting. Asking dangerous questions, I have no business asking her, especially with the team, coaching staff, and one of the team’s owners standing around us. But the alcohol in my system has made me bold.

“Maybe. I’m a steak-and-wine kind of girl. Never really had fish and chips.”

“Well, we should fix that,” I tell her.

“Fix what?” Hendrix chooses that moment to come over and interrupt our private conversation. I take comfort in the fact that at least she’s smiling right now and not looking like someone kicked her kitten.

“Oh, she’s never had fish and chips.” I immediately dislike that she came over into our space.

Her brows are furrowed, and she keeps looking from Cassie to me like she thinks she stumbled onto something. And maybe she has. But I want to figure out what that is without her standing here.

“Yeah, I haven’t either,” she says. “He keeps saying he’s going to take me sometime. You should come along with us.”

I narrow my eyes, as if to ask her what she thinks she’s doing. But Hendrix actually has the gall to wink at me.

“That would be so much fun,” Cassie says. “I would love to.”

“We’ll have to do that sometime,” I agree, but not with as much excitement as she had. I glance over at Hendrix one more time, wondering what kind of game she’s playing.

But I don’t have to wonder for long. A bunch of whooping and hollering is coming from the back of the bar, where most of the team has migrated to.

“Come dance with me!” Mac calls to us.

“Yes, let’s do it,” Hendrix yells.

Grabbing Cassie by the hand, she leads her to the back of the bar. I’m not stupid enough to believe that she meant me, so I go back and sit down beside August. He’s nursing a beer. I’m not sure if it’s the same one or not.

“Wanna talk about that threesome now that it’s just us?”

I can tell from his tone that he’s not even joking.

“I’m not drunk enough for that,” I reply.

The night wears on, and we sit there together while the team celebrates behind us. It reminds me that that’s the way it should be. I’m a coach—not her coach, but nonetheless, I shouldn’t be flirting with a player. It would spell disaster for everyone.