Power Play (Nashville Assassins: Next Generation Book 2) Read online

  I scrunch up my face. “I do not!”

  Aiden giggles like a schoolgirl. “Ha! Or he’s intimidated by her.”

  Wes nods, and I’m flabbergasted. “Fuck you both.”

  “Yup. He’s attracted to her and intimidated by her. He wants her to blow him instead of that whistle,” he teases and then shakes his head. “But for real, can someone take that thing away?”

  “You guys have lost your fucking minds.”

  Aiden laughs. “We’re just teasing you,” he says as he puts on his shirt. “But for real, she’s a good girl. You’ll see. I believe in what Shelli is doing here. She’s so smart. And gorgeous. And hot—”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, go suck her ass somewhere else,” I groan, and Wes chortles beside me as Willy shakes his head.

  “Leave him be. He’s in love,” Willy sings, and I roll my eyes.

  I point to them as I look at Wes. “How can you hang with these two? I feel we need to vote them out of the group.”

  The three of them laugh. “Then I’d be stuck with you, and you are an asshole most days.”

  “I am not.”

  “You are,” they all say in agreement. Wes shrugs.

  “But it’s part of the reason we like you,” Aiden says, grabbing his bag. “And you’re loyal as hell.”

  Willy nods. “True story.”

  Blah, makes me sick. Assholes. The pair of them walks off toward their perfect relationships and happy lives, leaving me to dwell on my confusing thoughts of Posey Adler.

  I look at Wes to find he is grinning at me. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he says with that shit-eating grin that means way more than “nothing.”

  I glare before getting up to put on my sweats. I don’t have time for this shit and I need a nap, but apparently a nap isn’t going to happen. Nope, not when my mind is going at speeds unknown, trying to figure out if I’m intimidated by Posey, attracted to her, or fuck…both.

  I hate the dudes I call friends.

  I dislike playing the Devils. Massively.

  The reason being, I was drafted to them, played for two years before I asked to go free agent to be traded. That was right around the time Julia and I reconnected, and we started dating. When the Assassins came sniffing, I gave them full access to my ass. Anything to get me out of that organization. Because of this, they hate me. I swear the coach has it out for me and sends his goons after me like I’m a sweet piece of chocolate and they’re all Willy Wonka. It’s really a pain in the ass, honestly.

  I go to send the puck to Aiden when a goon slams his 270-pound body into mine. I make the pass, but it hurts to do so. I’m not slim—my mom may, in fact, call me husky—but this dude is made to mow people down, and he mows me down just fine. As I slide across the ice, I look down to make sure Aiden is off. He is, so I pop back up to follow suit. I cross the blue line, going straight for the net. No one is screening, and since I already have one bruise coming in, might as well add a few more.

  I set up in front of the goalie as I fight my man for coverage while my team moves the puck around. We’re down by one and need the equalizer. I didn’t sleep well, so I’m cranky and saying whatever is going to piss this dude off. We need a power play, we need that chance to tie it, and if I can get this dude to retaliate, I’ll be good to go.

  Since I slept with his sister many moons ago, it shouldn’t be hard.

  “How’s Beth?” I ask as our hips slam into each other. “Is she still as wild as I remember?”

  “Fuck you, Hoenes!” Mattis yells, and when the goalie, Ellizet, clips my ankle, I grin.

  Loud enough for Ellizet to hear me and maybe throw off his focus, I ask him, “And how’s your mom? Is she still making those muffins?”

  I may also have slept with Ellizet’s mom. But in my defense, I was young, horny, and she made these really bomb-ass banana muffins. She, too, was lonely and newly divorced. Now that I think of it, I don’t know that it was my leaving the team that made them hate me, but rather that I slept with all the females who meant something to them. That’s all in the past, though. I’m an adult now.

  Or something of that nature.

  “I’m just asking. You know, I’m newly single. May have to call Beth or even Ellizet’s mom.”

  “I’ll fucking kill you,” Mattis says, slamming his shoulder into mine.

  “It wouldn’t be serious, just some mindless fucking,” I tease, and like I wanted, the retaliation comes. I just wish it hadn’t been the shaft of his stick in my mouth. My head is forced back, and I cover my mouth with my glove as I taste the blood. Fantastic. I probably deserved that. Beth is a sweet girl, treated me real good, and I would be lucky for her to accept my call. But I’m not telling Mattis that. When the whistle blows, I thank the awesome hockey gods and lean into my trainer’s towel to clean up the blood.

  “Need stitches?” Ryan Justice asks, and I tilt back for him to see the damage. I feel the cut at the base of my gums, and it would really suck to get stitches there. I’ve had them. They hurt worse than the damn cut itself. Luckily, though, he says, “Ah, no. It’s a little laceration. You’re good. Shake it off.”

  I love this dude. Being an ex-hockey player himself, he’s got our mind-set. I head to the bench with him and take a mouthful of the salt water he hands me, and then I spit it out on the ice. When the red flow stops, I know I’m good. Just in time, too, because we’re on the power play.

  Time to put to work what we spent all of practice working on.

  A play by the person who kept me awake all day.

  Not that I’m thinking of her right now. I haven’t even seen her. I assumed she’d be here. I knew she wouldn’t be on the bench with the other coaches since she’s just an assistant coach, but I thought I’d see her at least. Not that I wanted to. I’m just saying I thought I would.

  Coach Titov leans over the boards, screaming our play as we head to the face-off circle.

  Wes looks me over. “You good?”

  “Fine.”

  He scoffs. “Maybe next time, don’t talk about sleeping with a dude’s sister?”

  I whip my stick to the jumbotron. “Hello, double minor penalty. If we can’t score, we need Jesus.”

  “We all need Jesus,” Willy says as he sets up, and my mom would agree with him.

  I would too, but right now, I need to score.

  Fuck, anyone can score and I’d be happy.

  Once the puck is dropped, Aiden loses the damn face-off, and the puck goes sailing down to our end. I watch as Willy chases after it, and we get out of their zone to reset. As he comes down the ice, he’s yelling the play, and then he drops it back to Reeves. Reeves passes it up to Aiden, who is ready to enter, and when he does, Wes and I join him. We set up, passing the puck between the five of us. I draw in a forward, and when he lays out to block my shot, I lift it up over him and off to Wes.

  Wes takes the puck and dekes the goalie one way before pushing the puck with one hand on his stick into the goal. When the light comes on, I throw my hands up.

  That was a pass with a fucking purpose, as Posey Adler would say.

  We all hug up, and the feeling of scoring on this damn power play is unreal. The whole crowd is screaming at the top of their lungs. We’ve struggled—they know and have been talking mad shit—but we gave them what they wanted. A power play goal. We skate toward the bench as our fight song plays before trading out with the second special team since we are still on the power play. I lean on the bench, sucking in air as Titov comes over and slaps me hard on the back.

  “Smart play, Hoenes. Great fucking pass.”

  I nod and look up at him. “You would even say, one with purpose?”

  He gives me a pointed look. “Yes, smartass.”

  I grin as I look back on the ice where my boys are fighting just as hard as we were. Time is winding down, but the boys are still pushing. The pressure is there, and we are getting so many chances. But apparently today, Ellizet has decided to be a good goalie. He never did that wh