Blocker (Seattle Sharks 5)

“Ah, there she is, my Ivy-girl. Now they’re both here. Time for some introductions. If you’ll excuse me, Gentry?”

“Absolutely, Coach.”

He headed off into the party crowd, calling for a meeting, and I was still blinking when Lukas and Connor came to stand beside me.

“What was that about?” Connor asked as we stared up at where Coach stood on the deck, waiting for us to assemble below him.

“Coach wants me to keep the players away from his daughters.”

“Ha!” Lukas laughed. “You’re a blocker, yes?”

“Yes, that’s what they call me. It’s a nickname from the pads,” I explained to him. One day he’d get the American slang right, and I wouldn’t have to translate.

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re supposed to shield the girls. You’re a cockblocker.”

Okay, that was one American phrase he nailed on the head.

“Fuck off, Lukas.”

Connor was still laughing when Coach called us to be quiet.

“Welcome, Sharks! Huge thanks to Gage and Bailey for hosting us today. Sure is a hell of a lot prettier than having a potluck in the locker room!”

A murmur of laughter rolled through the crowd.

“I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you how proud I am of how you’re already playing this season. To help us reach even higher...more cup-like goals, I hired us a statistician straight out of MIT.”

Clapping erupted in our little crowd.

“I figured you’d like that.”

Two figures appeared behind Coach, but from this angle, I couldn't see much.

“I’d also like to welcome home my daughters. Some of you remember them from before they went to college, and to everyone else, hands-off.”

Laughter rolled through the team, and Coach smiled good-naturedly, but his eyes told me he was pretty damn serious.

“So, I’d like you to meet Ivy,” a blonde stepped forward, and she looked just like—

“And Pepper, your new statistician.”

My blonde took his other side, smiling over the banister.

Mother-fucking shitastic son-of-a-bitch, damn. Damn. Damn.

“Twins?” Connor asked, his mouth dropping.

“Identical,” Lukas commented before trying to stifle his laughter.

My eyes locked with Pepper’s, and it was there again, even across the thirty feet that separated us—that sizzling crack of energy.

Maybe they were twins, but they looked different enough that I immediately knew which was mine.

“You’re so fucked,” Lukas said with a shake of his head as the team clapped.

“You mean, you’d like to get fucked?” Connor questioned.

“Nope. That one he got absolutely right,” I answered. Pepper. Her name was Pepper.

The girl I’d just fantasized about fucking against the wall was the one girl I couldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Hell, I was supposed to keep all the guys away from her...while working with her on my stats.

Yeah. “I’m absolutely fucked.”

Chapter 2

Pepper

“Holy hot damn!” Ivy’s tongue was thick as she yelled like we were ten feet away instead of standing with her arm looped through mine. “Would you look at this?” She waved her free arm at the packed pool room before us. “It’s like one giant gorgeous man buffet!”

I darted my eyes around, thankful no one noticed my twin sister’s total lack of filter.

“Come on,” she said, tugging me toward the crowded custom bar Gage had in the corner. “I need another drink.”

“Opposed to the three you had at home?” I teased, but she ignored it. I was shocked she’d managed to keep a straight face during Dad’s mortifying introduction a little bit ago on the deck.

Oblivious to her level of drunk, Ivy hip-bumped her way to a secure spot in front of the bartender Gage hired for this house-party.

“I’m still recovering from Europe,” I said, leaning next to her. Seriously, I couldn’t understand how we could be identical and yet completely different. We’d just moved back home after a whirlwind six-month Europe visit. I only remembered a few months thanks to Ivy’s uncanny ability to get free drinks wherever she went.

“Pepper,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We’ve been home for a week. You should totally be ready to party now.” She tapped the wooden bar with her perfectly polished pink fingernails, flashing the guy behind it her best smile. “Can I have two seven and seven’s please?”

“Sure thing,” he said, turning to grab the goods to make the drinks.

“One!” I blurted so loud the dude jolted, nearly dropping the glasses he’d grabbed. I chuckled awkwardly. “She meant one.”

“Come on, Pepper!” Ivy was straight up whining now like I had denied her a turn at the Barbie dream house. Which I’d only ever done once just to irk her. She’d broken my Captain America action figure earlier the same morning.

“Someone has to be the DD,” I said.

“We took an Uber.”

Damn. Thought she was drunk enough to forget.

“What is your problem?” She asked, wrapping her fingers around the glass the guy set before her. “Are you scared of all Dad’s fine-as-hell Sharks?”

I huffed, taking a second to glance around the room.

Wall-to-wall hockey players.

Our dad’s guys.

The Seattle Sharks.

It’s not that they weren’t equally gorgeous and alluring in their own way, but I knew all too well that nine times out of ten, these guys chose hockey over everything else. Ivy and I had played second to hockey in Dad’s life for as long as I could remember. Though, if I was being fair, we wouldn’t have graduated from MIT without all his hard work.

Great. There’s that Pepper Guilt.

“You so need a drink,” Ivy said, then stood a bit taller. “Or a man.” She arched an eyebrow, scanning the room. “Yes! A good romp will do loads better than a drink. How long has it been? A year? Two?”

I lightly smacked her on her shoulder. “Shut up!” I shook my head. I may have been dying for a good kiss—the kind that shot sparks down my spine—or more, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to find that here.

Except from maybe that gorgeous red.

No. I wouldn’t think about his hands on my hips or how my skin had flushed the second he’d touched me.

I had a code—no hockey players.

Ever.

Especially ones who I’d be working with on a day-to-day basis.

For now, I was content to daydream about Thor busting down my bedroom door with his hammer.

“One drink,” I said and waved the guy down. “And you drop the man business.”

“Deal.” Ivy smirked that winning smile that surfaced any time she talked me into doing something I had no interest in. Like the time we went skinny dipping in the ocean when we were sixteen. Or when we’d stolen Dad’s car to catch a U2 concert two cities over. Or a six-month trek across Europe before we accepted adult jobs.

I thanked the guy when he handed me the drink, spinning to lean my back against the bar.

Dad was across the room, several muscled men hovering around him. Music blared but not blasted, allowing for a good background beat to the various conversations happening all at once and successfully covered up the kids screaming delights from the backyard.

If Dad hadn’t personally asked us both to be here, I wouldn’t have even considered crashing a party hosted at one of the Shark’s house. Though, I couldn’t deny that Gage McPherson had taste, and was one I considered a friend, despite it being years since I’d seen him. His house may be the size of a mansion, but it was obviously a home. Somehow, he was one of the rare ones that juggled a family and his super-star career.

Nine out of ten. There is always one.

And there he was.

“Thanks for having us,” I said as Gage walked by with a wiggling toddler on his hip that could’ve been his mini-me.

/> Well if that wasn’t adorable.

Gage smiled, his blue eyes bright as he shifted the toddler to reach out his free arm. He tucked me into a side hug, then jerked Ivy against his chest. “So glad you two came!” He released her. “It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you two. I swear you were both going through a pigtail phase.” He teased.

I snorted, smacking his chest. “One,” I said, holding up a finger. “You may be old, but you’re not ancient. Yet.” He laughed. “And two,” I continued. “I never went through a pigtail phase. That was all Ivy.”

He flinched, an apologetic smile on his face. He focused harder on our long blonde hair, finally noting the soft pink color that dusted the tips of mine. “Sorry,” he said, then glanced at Ivy. “I can never tell the difference. Especially if your hair isn’t a different color, Pepper.”

Ivy laughed. “I swear that’s the only reason she dyes it!” She took another long sip of her drink. “Because legit no one can figure it out.”

“Sorry,” Gage said again, chuckling.

“No worries,” I said, and reached up to finger a small strand. “Pink,” I pointed it out. Maybe I’d gone too soft on the color. Starker shades flipped through my head as I considered switching it up for the season.

“Nice!” He shifted the boy on his hip. “Shouldn’t it be green though?”

My eyes popped. “Why the hell would it be green?”

“Because you’re a Shark now, right?”

“Shark! Shark!” The little boy squealed.