So This Is War

Sandie: I can’t believe he added a scarf to the outfit.

Wylie: It took everything in me not to burst out in laughter.

Sandie: Oh girl, erotic torture is in full swing.

Wylie: Yup. He has no idea how to handle it, and I’m loving every second of it.

Knock. Knock.

I look at my door and then down at my shirtless self. God, imagine what he would do if I told him to come in right now. He might pass out.

Not wanting to do that, I grab the shirt I borrowed from him last night and throw it over my head while I prop myself up in bed.

“Come in,” I call out.

The door opens, and Levi steps into the room wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved fitted black shirt, with his hair styled in a messy way.

When his large body consumes the small space, I get a whiff of his masculine, woodsy cologne and nearly melt right there on my bed.

I might be making it hard on him, but he sure as hell is making it hard on me too.

“Good morning,” I say in a cheery voice. “Can I help you? Did I forget something?”

He shakes his head and looks around the space. “It, uh, it looks great in here. Very cozy.”

“Oh, thank you,” I say. “I’m very happy with it and very grateful you offered me the space.”

“Not a problem.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels.

“Can I help you with something?” I ask.

“Yeah, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” I pat the end of the bed. “Have a seat.”

He glances at the bed, back at me, and then at the bed again. “You know, I think it would be best if I stay standing.”

“Not a problem,” I say. “What’s going on?”

“Well, this is a little awkward, but I wanted to be honest with you.”

“Oh,” I say as I lift the blankets off me and shimmy out of the bed to a standing position. “Am I not doing my job the way you want me to?” I move in close to him, and he moves back, bumping into my wall.

“Uh, no, you’re doing great work. Keep it up.”

“Okay, then what is it?”

“You see,” he says, sounding slightly jittery. “The fact of the matter is, you’re sort of . . . kind of . . . you know, with everything happening and the past well⁠—”

“Levi, what’s going on?”

“You’re making me hard,” he says in one fell swoop.

“Oh.” I attempt to hold back my smile, and it feels nearly impossible. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t. And yes, this is incredibly unprofessional of me, but I wanted you to know. That’s what’s happening.”

“Well, thank you for telling me. I’m guessing from the way you’re backing away from me, you don’t appreciate being hard.”

“Not particularly. Granted, I love that my dick can get excited. It makes me feel alive. But when it comes to you, it’s forbidden, so I really shouldn’t be getting hard, you know?”

I nod. Sadly. “I know what you mean. My dad was very explicit when it came to any sexual behavior with any of his players.”

“See? You know.”

“I do.” I cross my arms over my chest, lifting my breasts while doing so, and I watch his eyes bounce from my face, down to my torso, and then back up. The man is impossible. “Can I ask you, is there anything in particular that’s making you hard?”

“Yup,” he answers. “And I don’t want this to sound chauvinistic, but the no bra situation is just about destroying me.”

“Oh.” I chuckle. “I’m sorry. It’s just more comfortable that way.”

“I get it,” he says. “I’ve seen my fair share of bras being torn off after a long day. But maybe we can leave it on when walking around my apartment?”

“Sure, that’s not a problem.” I reach out and touch his arm. “I’m so sorry I’ve been making you uncomfortable.”

He swats my hand away and says, “Not uncomfortable, just . . . you know . . . aroused.”

“Which leads to discomfort. I get it. I’ll do better.”

“Thank you.” He sighs in relief. “Fuck.” He pushes his hand through his hair. “I thought this was going to be a tough conversation. Thanks for being so cool about it.”

“Not a problem. Anything you need or want to talk about, I’m here for you, Mr. Posey. We’re in this together.”

He eyes me, and I chuckle. “None of that mister shit.”

“Just teasing.” I nudge him with my foot. “Also, I’m very flattered that a man of your stature and attractiveness would be turned on by me. Makes me feel good.”

“Yeah, well, hard not to be turned on by you.”

I smirk. “Stop, you’re going to make my nipples hard, and we don’t want that.”

“Yeah, we don’t,” he says in a haze as his eyes float to my chest.

“Levi.”

“Huh?” His eyes snap up.

“Maybe you should leave since, you know, you’re getting all dazed.”

“Right, yeah. I should go.” He reaches into his back pocket. “By the way, here is a list of things I need done. Think you can do them today? Game tonight, then we leave tomorrow for a few days. I need some suits and new shoes, some snacks for the plane, and a refill on my vitamins. It’s all written down.”

He hands me the list, and I don’t bother looking at it.

“Not a problem. I can get this done for you. Are you headed over to the arena soon?”

“Shortly.”

“Can I grab a ride with you?” I ask. “I left my car there yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

“Great, give me like fifteen. I’ll be ready.”

“Sounds good.”

He takes off, and when my bedroom door is shut, I run over to my phone.

Wylie: He just came to my bedroom. Told me I’m making him hard by going braless.

I move into my bathroom, where I start the shower. It takes far too long for the water to warm up.

Sandie: Oh, didn’t see that coming. So he asked you to put a bra on?

Wylie: Yup. You know what that means?

Sandie: Oh, I do . . .

Wylie: Time for the ultimate push-up bra to take the reins.

Sandie: Poor, poor Posey. Should have stuck with the braless attire.

LEVI

“LET’S PRACTICE OUR BOX BREATHING,” Yogi Carl says.

“Fuck you and your box breathing,” I mutter, exiting YouTube just as I hear Wylie head down the hallway.

I sit up from where I’m leaning on the island counter just in time to see her enter the kitchen . . .

Fuck.

Me.

I’m . . . fucked.

“Hey, thanks for waiting,” she says casually as she moves toward the fridge, my hungry eyes eating up every last inch of her.

Wearing a pair of wide-leg jeans that rest low on her hips, she’s paired them with a deep V-neck, forest-green sweater and some sort of magical underwire. Her breasts are screaming to pop past the cashmere.

Well, she’s wearing a bra, that’s for damn sure.

A bra that’s making me sweat.

I actually have sweat on my upper lip as I stare at her.

At the way her curved hips hold up her jeans, the way they cling to her heart-shaped ass. The slight hourglass figure of her torso and the slenderness of her shoulders. And then her perfectly pulled together cleavage that’s begging me to touch, to play with.

Why does the universe hate me?

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Uh . . . yeah. Just a second, left something in my bedroom.” Before I can wait for a response, I jog back to my bedroom, shut the door, and start typing on my phone.

Levi: RED ALERT. RED ALERT. I NEED MY LABIA LADIES!

Penny: Ew, you are not calling us that.

Blakely: Think of a better name, or we’re not helping.

Ollie: Agreed. A much better name.

Winnie: *Snorts*

Levi: I’M IN DISTRESS! That’s the first thing that came to mind.

Penny: You know, if we’re going to be a part of this, we should really brainstorm a good name.

Blakely: I like the idea of using the term queen. Because that’s what we are, right? Queens.

Ollie: Ooo, I second the queen idea.

Winnie: I’m also on board with queen.

Levi: Fine, my Quibbling Queens.

Penny: Try again.

Levi: Quintessential Queens.

Ollie: Too long.

Levi: Quirky Queens.

Winnie: You’re getting worse.

Levi: Uhh . . . Queefing Queens?

Penny: You’re going to be dead to us in mere seconds.

Levi: I’m sorry! Like I said before, I’M IN DISTRESS!

Blakely: You know, it doesn’t have to start with a Q.

Levi: For the love of God, just help me. Work on the name later.

Penny: *looks at nails and sighs* Fine. How can we be of service to you?

Levi: I told her about getting hard, and she understood completely. I told her to put on a bra. And she did.

Ollie: Wow, this really is a red alert. She listened. The horror.

Winnie: It is for a man. They don’t understand what listening is.

Blakely: Ha, good one.

Winnie: Thank you, it just came to me.

Levi: The listening isn’t the problem. It’s the kind of bra she’s wearing now that’s the problem.

Penny: Uh-oh. Is it a push-up bra?

Levi: Pretty sure she’s wearing titanium steel under her breasts, they’re so propped up. And she’s wearing a deep V-cut sweater. I know you don’t want details, but my dick is screaming right now.

Blakely: Ugh, God, is this what the men’s group text is like?

Penny: Pretty much. Just disgusting.

Winnie: Could you imagine us saying something like that? Oh, his pecs were bouncing so much, my clit was screaming.

Ollie: His bulge, oh his bulge. *drapes hand over forehead* My nipples were leaking they were so turned on.

Penny: The cake on that man. I nearly fainted into my own vagina from how turned on I was.

Blakely: Fainting into the vagina, that’s on point with what they’d say.

Levi: Can you really bend that far?

Penny: Posey! Focus!

Levi: You’re the ones talking about screaming clits and leaking nipples. Christ.

Winnie: Okay, let’s reel it in. Here are the facts. You told her you’re turned on and to put on a bra. She listened and doubled down and put on the atomic bomb of all bras.

Levi: You think she doubled down?

Penny: One thousand percent. This is a classic case of double downing.

Ollie: What is double downing?

Winnie: Where she was trying to accomplish a task, was caught, so she doubled down on said task to try to accomplish it further. Can’t imagine what a triple down would be.

Levi: Oh fuck, is that an option?

Penny: Triple down would be shirtless. Guaranteed.

Blakely: Ooo, or accidental tit pic text. “Ooops, didn’t mean to send that to you.”

Levi: I won’t survive a triple down. I know I won’t. How do I prevent the triple down?

Penny: Pretend the double down doesn’t affect you.

Levi: But I’m hard!

Ollie: Then take a freaking Xanax, for fuck’s sake. Honestly, how can you be that hard all the time? Did you not play with yourself last night?

Levi: I was too nervous to touch it. I didn’t want it to explode. The skin was really tight.

Blakely: *vomits*

Winnie: Dear God, Posey.

Ollie: Why am I a part of this again?

Penny: I’m going to need a lot more than a subpar cup of coffee and coffee cake to deal with this.

Levi: Subpar? Café Peppermint is anything but subpar. It’s like being transported into a Lovemark movie with the quirky shop owner and everything.

Penny: I’m leaving now. Just . . . hold it together while we think about why she’s double downing. Okay?

Levi: You’ll do that? You’ll brainstorm?

Ollie: If it means you’re not talking about your penis skin being tight anymore, then yes.

WYLIE

WYLIE: The bra is working. He ran to his bedroom.

Sandie: He had no idea what was coming for him. Did he stare?

Wylie: His eyes practically fell out of his head.

Sandie: I’ve never been more proud.

Wylie: Thank you. Also, did you get the email I sent you last night with the designs?

Sandie: Yes, going to open them up when I’m not at work.

Wylie: Smart. Let me know what you think.

Sandie: Will do.

“Are you ready?” Levi says, returning to the living space with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.

“Yup. Have everything you need?”

“Yes. I, uh, I forgot to put deodorant on. What a stinky situation that would have been.” He nervously laughs, and it’s really cute.

“Oof, good thing you caught it. My dad hates stink.”

“He’s told us that. It’s why we have multiple equipment managers.” He gestures toward the front door, and I open it, stepping out first.

“I’m sure they’re not paid enough to handle your equipment.”

“They’re not,” he says while locking his door.

We both head to the elevator, where he presses the down button.

“You know, this building is an interesting find. Modern but also historic.”

I catch him lift his eyes from my chest as the elevator doors open. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure I’d like it at first because it doesn’t offer the same level of privacy that other buildings do, but the residents are really chill, and I like the parking situation. Plus, the layouts are much bigger. My unit is meant for a family of four, but I converted the one room into my office.”

“You did a great job. I love your place.”

“Thank you,” he says as the doors part to the parking garage. “The black Tesla right over there.”

“Oh, that’s right. You and the boys all have one.”

“Can’t remember who started it, but we all followed.”

He unlocks the car and, to my surprise, walks over to my door and opens it for me. I can tell the minute he realizes what he’s doing because he backs away from the door as if it’s on fire and stumbles to get away.

I inwardly chuckle as he rounds the front of the car and gets in on his side. When he’s settled, I say, “Thank you for taking me in. My friend Sandie picked me up from work, so we just left my car. I thought I’d be able to catch a ride, so I’m glad it all worked out.”

“Yeah, not a problem.” He clears his throat and puts his hand on my headrest, turns his body, and starts backing out of his car space, which I think is funny because he has a giant screen in front of him, showing him if there are any cars.

Either way, I like that he put his hand on the headrest. If only he’d put his hand on my thigh next.

“Are you excited about the game tonight? You’re playing the Freeze, right? Kind of a big rivalry.”

“Yeah, should be an interesting game.”

“I dated a guy who the Freeze drafted.”

“Who?” His head snaps to look at me.

“He doesn’t play with them anymore, so no need to get defensive.”

“I wasn’t getting defensive,” he says as his grip on the steering wheel loosens.

Uh-huh, not defensive at all.

“His name is Rocco Allen.”

“Hmm.” Levi thinks about it. “Can’t say I know who that is.”

“Well, he hasn’t made an impact on the hockey scene like you, so I’m not surprised you don’t know who he is.”

“You think I’ve made an impact in hockey?”

Turning on the charm, I say, “Oh my God, yes. Are you kidding me? You’re one of the best defensemen in the game. I remember my dad talking about you once, saying how impressed he was with your footwork while under pressure, especially for being such a large man.”

“Huh, never heard him say anything nice about me before.”

“Really? He’s said a few things.”

“Was this before or after he’s blessed his underwear?” Levi shoots me a smirk, and it’s the most gorgeous expression I’ve ever seen.

“After, most definitely after.”

“Hmm, maybe I should give him some holy water for Christmas.”

“You do that. Let me know how it turns out for you.”

He laughs. “Probably not well.”

“I can guarantee you it won’t go over well.”

“Was he always this cranky and unpleasant while growing up? And I say that under strict boss-assistant confidentiality.”

I pat his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t be repeating anything we talk about to him. As long as you can promise me the same.”

“I don’t think he wants to hear about my sore toe, let alone what we talk about.”

“Good,” I say. “And yes, he’s always been like this. His smiles are rare. Even rarer when he’s in a good mood. I don’t know, he’s just always been . . . grumpy.”

“Was that hard to live with?”

“At times, yes. Living with someone who gets angry at the drop of a hat is stressful. But I guess I just started to ignore it. There comes a time when you just think, they will always be angry, it’s not me, it’s them, and you move on.”

“Shit, that sucks,” he says. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that growing up. Doesn’t seem too fair.”

“We all have our shortcomings. At least he cared about me. Some parents are angry and don’t care. That would be a terrible situation to be in.”

“True.”

I turn toward him and push his floppy hair back. I immediately notice the goosebumps on his forearm, and I think another great win for me. “What about you? Did you have a pretty decent childhood?”

“Yup,” he says. “Really low-key. Played hockey from a young age and pretty much focused on that. My parents knew my passion. They helped me grow it along with my skill, and I skipped out on all the troublemaking in order to accomplish my goal.”

“So then how did you become a ladies’ man?”

He chuckles. “I thought that was a secret.”

“It’s not, but nice try.”

“Well, throughout high school, I was a beanpole. It wasn’t until I reached college that I started lifting more. I grew into my skin and sprouted in a different way. I started getting attention from the opposite sex, and then at twenty, I lost my virginity.”

“No way,” I say, utterly surprised. “You lost your virginity at twenty? That’s so hard to believe. Not that it’s a bad thing, but given your reputation, I would have thought it was sooner.”

He shakes his head. “Not when all you do is play hockey. I had no time for anything else growing up. But when college came along, that was a different story. And I started to realize how easy it was to talk to women.”

“Talk to women, that’s a nice way of putting it.”

He chuckles. “Well, either way, that’s how it went down.”

“Have you ever thought about settling down?”

“Not really,” he says. “But only because I haven’t found the right person.”

“Ever had a girlfriend?”

“Awfully intimate questions for an assistant,” he says, seeming more relaxed than ever. This feels like the same Levi Posey I first met in the hotel. Smooth in conversation, smirking. Flirting. He seems like he’s in his element.

Which of course makes me like him that much more.

“As your assistant, I think it’s my duty to know all things about you, including relationships. You know, in case some lady claims to be your ex, begging for access to you.”

“I see. And what if some lady does try to gain access to me? What would you do?”

“Shut her down. My dad is a hockey coach, and he’s taught me a thing or two about fighting.”

He chuckles. “That’s kind of hot. So an assistant and a bodyguard, looks like I’m getting a bargain.”

“You are, so tell me . . . anyone I need to look out for?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Never really been in a relationship long enough to cause drama.”

“Have you been in one at all?”

“Um, not really. Never called this one girl my girlfriend. More like, I saw her a few times, went out on a few dates, and then we went our separate ways.”

“Did she end things, or did you? Just trying to gauge if it’s a you problem or a them problem.”

“I ended it,” he says as the arena comes into view. Another thing I love is how close he lives to the arena, but still has a piece of history with his older building. “Just wasn’t interested. Wasn’t invested. Didn’t want to waste her time.”

“Think you could ever find someone to settle down with?”

“Maybe,” he says. “Probably after I retire. I don’t think too much about it now.”

“Not even with all of your boys now tied up in relationships?”

“The only thing annoying about that is they don’t hang out as much.”

“That’s so sad. Well, if you ever need someone to hang out with, I can be there for you . . . bra and all.”

His eyes flash toward my chest, then back up to my face. “Yeah, I can see that.”

LEVI

LEVI: I did it, I ignored the double down. I ended up driving her into the arena, and we had a really good conversation. I felt normal, and what we talked about, well . . . loads of things. It made me like her even more, but not just physically. Emotionally, and that doesn’t happen with me very often.

Penny: I don’t know what we should do. Should we clap for him?

Ollie: I think we need to.

Blakely: The fact that he was able to drive the atomic bomb of tits without crashing . . . that deserves an applause.

Winnie: We are so proud of you, Posey.

Levi: Thanks, ladies. I feel good.

Penny: So then, are we done with this?

Levi: Oh no, not even close. This was just a breath of air. I’m sure something will come up where I’ll require your assistance. I’m going to need you on standby at all times.

Blakely: It’s funny that you thought we were done, Penny.

Penny: High hopes, I guess.

Ollie: We still need to figure out why she double downed.

Winnie: I have a theory. Do we think she’s into S&M? Maybe she’s a domme and wants to control him with her breasts.

Penny: Huh, that’s an interesting theory.

Ollie: Maybe this assistant thing is all a ruse, and she and her dad are working together to assist her in finding a sub since it’s been so hard, and Coach Wood saw weakness in you.

Blakely: Ooo, I like that. I could see Posey as subservient. I mean, he said he thrives on pain.

Winnie: That’s right, he did. Well, I’m more convinced now than ever.

Levi: There’s no way she’s a fucking domme. Trust me, I would know.

Penny: Uh, what now? Care to elaborate on that?

Blakely: *Leans in*

Ollie: Are we getting a little hint at Posey’s sex life?

Winnie: The tattoo, now this hint. Is Posey a kinky fella?

Levi: Keep working on the double down. I’m reporting back after warm-ups.

I set my phone down and look up to see Eli, Silas, Pacey, and Halsey all staring down at me. “Uh . . . what’s up, guys?”

“Who the hell are you texting?” Silas asks, gesturing to my phone.

“No one in particular, why?” I tuck my phone away in my bag just in case one of the girls text back.

“Because you’ve been buried in your phone since the minute you got in the locker room,” Pacey says.

“So? So were you guys. You’re always buried in your phones.”

“No, we weren’t. We were discussing the different William Sonoma bread in a bag flavorings,” Eli says. “And from someone who loves a pumpkin flavor, you sure as hell were silent when Halsey said the pumpkin crumble one was shit.”

I sneer at Halsey. “Your palate is undignified.”

“Says the guy who eats bologna daily,” Halsey says.

I stand from the bench and move past them, heading out of the locker room and toward the ice for some warm-ups. “First of all, the bologna I get isn’t just any old Oscar Mayer bologna; this is refined bologna from a deli. The finest in the land. And second of all, there have been articles about how people who like bologna are more intelligent than non-bologna lovers.”

“Where did you see those articles?” Pacey asks, following me.

“On the internet.”

“Show them to us,” Silas says.

“We’re about to warm up, I can’t.” We walk down the tunnel, and just before I head out on the ice, they all stop me by forming a wall before I can enter the rink.

“What is going on with you?” Pacey asks. “You’re acting weird, you barely talk to us, and you have shifty eyes.”

“I don’t have shifty eyes,” I say, but then I catch myself looking to the side out of fear that Coach Wood is lurking.

“Yes, you do,” Silas says, pointing at my face. “You just shifted. It’s like you’re waiting for someone to pop out at you.”

I grip my stick tightly. “You never know with social media these days. This TikTok craze has made us all vulnerable. Anything for views, that’s their motto, even if it’s at the expense of scaring the piss out of us.”

Eli scratches the back of his neck. “You know, Penny was showing me some scare videos the other day.”

“See,” I say. “So pardon me for being prepared. You suckers are going to be the ones who are caught, and don’t come crying to me when your scared face becomes a meme for the internet to mock.”

I try to move forward again, but Pacey stops me once more. “That’s not it. There’s something else going on, and you’re not telling us what it is.”

I sigh heavily. “You’re right. Something is going on.” Pressing my lips together, I look between my friends and on a pained expression, I say, “I have a serious case of blue balls. Think one of you can take care of it for me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Silas says as he turns and moves toward the ice.

“Is that a no?” I call out as Eli and Pacey follow closely. They don’t bother looking back.

And that’s how it’s done. Distract and deflect.

As if I would tell them what’s going on. No fucking way.

They’d tease me relentlessly because being the intelligent man I am, I know that payback is a bitch. And what I teased them about will only come back with a vengeance.

They’d also be too loud and fucking obnoxious about something meant to be discreet. They have no filter and, within an hour, no doubt Coach Wood would find out about my crush and have me hanging by the balls in his office like a freshly butchered lamb leg.

Keeping them in the quiet, in the unknown, is the best decision.

Happy with myself, I head down the hallway behind them, smirking just as I hear my name. I look over to see Wylie, waving me down, her low-hanging shirt doing nothing to conceal her tits from the chilly arena air.

Either she has nipples of steel or that bra holds the girls up but doesn’t conceal because she’s clearly cold, if you catch my drift.

Being the lust-sick asshole that I am, a fleeting thought of holding her close to warm her up passes through my mind before it’s quickly squashed with reality.

Not going to happen, man.

“Hey, Levi, can I talk to you for a second?” Wylie says, waving me down.

“Sure. What’s up?” I ask as I skate over to her.

“Sorry to bother you,” she says as a few of the guys skate by us, skating annoyingly close so I have to move right in front of her.

“It’s fine, what’s up?”

She touches the front of my jersey, adjusting it against my pads. It’s very intimate, something a girlfriend would do. Not my assistant. From an outsider looking in, you’d think that she’s anything but my assistant, especially with her top being at my eye level and the way my eyes keep drifting down.

I know I talk about it a lot, but seriously, she’s so achingly hot.

“Your suits. Did you want me to get new ones for you, or get your current ones dry-cleaned?”

“A new suit,” I say. “Did I not put my measurements down?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Oh, sorry about that.”

She plays with the collar of my jersey, and I want to ask her what the hell she’s doing, but I get distracted by her gorgeous eyes instead.

Those stormy gray eyes.

“Not a problem,” she says, pulling me back into the present. “Should I just take one of your current suits in and have them match it?”

I swallow and wet my lips. God, what I wouldn’t give to fuck her on the bench right now. It’s always been a fantasy of mine. The bench, the locker room, and on the ice. A chilly feat, but I’d be up for the challenge.

“Levi?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, that would be best.”

“Okay, thanks. Don’t want your suits to be too tight in the crotch, right?” She winks.

You keep hanging out with me, and they’ll always be tight in the crotch.

“Yeah, definitely don’t want that.” I stare into her mesmerizing eyes, comparing them to the iciness of the ice. A foggy morning. A pair of newly sharpened⁠—

“Posey!” Coach yells, scaring the living daylights out of me. “What the hell are you doing?”

Mother of fuck, I think I just piddled.

I turn toward Coach Wood, who looks like he’s about to shove his clipboard up my ass. “She had a question,” I say, pushing away from her. “It was urgent.”

Coach Wood glances at Wylie. “Did you get your answer?”

“Yes,” she says.

“Then I suggest you leave.”

Unfazed by her dad’s harsh tone, she walks up to him, places her hand on his chest, and kisses his cheek before twiddling her fingers at me and taking off.

Well, fuck, that didn’t look good.

I nervously smile at him and start to skate away when he says, “Get your ass over here.”

Yup, didn’t think I was going to get away with that.

I skate back to the bench and say, “What’s up, Coach?”

He leans in and talks in a very dark, very scary voice. “Tell me right fucking now, is there anything going on between you and my daughter?”

“No,” I say so quickly that I repeat myself just in case he didn’t hear. “No. Nope. Nothing. Nada. Nothing at all. I swear.”

“Then why the hell did it look like there is?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. But I promise, nothing’s going on. I wouldn’t cross that line. I told you I wouldn’t, and I haven’t.”

His expression softens as he leans back now. “Did you give her the list I gave you?”

“Yes, that’s what she had a question about. We didn’t really get to talk about it all too much, so I messed up and forgot to give her suit measurements.”

“Are you sending her to the shop downtown?”

“Yes,” I answer.

“Good.” He eyes me up and down. “You haven’t been updating me.”

“Sorry, just trying to focus on the game.”

“Then get the fuck away from me and focus.”

“Yup. Got it.”

I take off and skate toward the boys, where they’re all stretching. When I join them, Eli whispers, “So . . . nothing going on with her?”

I sigh and start stretching my inner thighs. “Nothing.”