Dump and Chase (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 1)

Since I joined the Assassins, we’re six, one, and one. I am stoked for those numbers. Elli is pretty pleased, and that makes me happy. I want to keep my boss happy. Especially when I can’t stop thinking about her daughter. I made the mistake of going on Shelli’s Instagram, which Asher had told me about. Big mistake. I’ve been up countless nights, whacking off because she’s so damn hot. She’s possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I want her so damn bad. Which is so damn bad. So bad. But I can’t control my lust for her, which is why I have done everything in my power to keep clear of her.

But if she doesn’t stop posting pictures of herself working out in those barely there shorts, I might lose my damn mind.

“One!”

Ah, my line. I jump over the boards as I rush to where the puck was thrown into their zone. I go center ice, waiting for them to bring the puck in. The defensemen tries to pass it up the middle, but Wes is there, catching it on his blade. I rush forward as he does the same, catching the Canuck on a change. He passes it to our linemate, Hoenes, who takes it in. I rush the goal, and we have a two-on-one. The defensemen lays out so that Hoenes can’t pass to Wes. But he can pass it to me.

When he does, I’m ready, and I shoot it so damn hard, I fall to my knee, waiting for that red light.

When it lights up, my heart stops.

Goal.

The crowd goes wild as my teammates come and wrap their arms around me. Emotion takes over, and I feel it in my throat as I hug my teammates hard. When we break apart, I look around as I skate to the bench to slap hands with the rest of my teammates. Everyone cheers me on, and when I round the corner, Sinclair is there with a puck.

“First goal at home as an Assassin.”

I take it from him and grin. “Thanks, man.”

I go over the boards and hand it off to Ryan Justice, my trainer. “I’ll put it up.”

I nod as I lean on the boards, and I swear I can hear my mom screaming. But then it’s all drowned out when the announcer’s voice fills the arena.

“An Assassins goal!! Scored at 12:52, by number twenty-three, Aiden Brooooooooooookkkkkksssss!! That’s his twenty-ninth goal of the season but his first as your Nashvilllllllllllllllle Assssssssaaaaaaaaasssin!”

Yeah, I’ll never get used to that.

“Dude, there is this waitress here—holy mother of sweet baby Jesus, she is gorgeous.”

I didn’t know that most of the guys go to Brooks House after all the home games until Wes asked me to go. I also didn’t know they all eat for free. Seems like something my mom would do. She doesn’t let them drink for free because she’s no fool.

Since I love the penne here, that’s what I got, but Wes went with the lasagna to go with the tall beer he ordered. He isn’t a wine drinker—in fact, I’ve noticed that most of my teammates aren’t, so I’m the only one with a glass. We’re all excited, celebrating our win, and I’m having a good time. It’s my first night out with the guys since joining the team.

Problem is, it’s hard to pay attention when Shelli Adler is singing.

Boon Hoenes leans over me and nods. “So hot. The one with the long brown hair, right? Brown eyes?”

Wes shakes his head. “No, you mean chocolate-cake eyes. I mean, they’re such a rich brown, it’s unfair. She’s stunning.”

Willy nods. “Yeah, she is. But isn’t she like eighteen? In high school?”

Wes grins. “Hey, she’s legal.”

My brow perks. “What’s her name?”

“Stella,” Wes says dreamily. “Stella fucking gorgeous face.”

I snort along with the guys as I shake my head. “That’s my little sister.”

Laughter comes to a complete stop as everyone looks from Wes to me. I just grin at him. But then Wes gets up. “Excuse me, I’m gonna go jump off a bridge.”

I grab him by the shirt and pull him back down as everyone laughs.

“Dude, I didn’t know.”

I grin over at him. “It’s cool, but she’s young. How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Oh, I thought you were older.”

“No, I’m just mature. Bad childhood.”

“Got it,” I say with a nod. “Still, stay away from her.”

“Ten-four,” he says with a salute, and we share a grin. “She is really gorgeous, though.”

I only nod in agreement as my gaze drifts back where Shelli is singing some Taylor Swift song. The only reason I know that is because it’s all Emery listens to. I happen to think Shelli sings the song better, but I may be biased. She’s striking. Her hair is up in a bun, but little tendrils fall down the sides of her face. Her neck is on full display, and I want so much to suck her skin right beneath her ear.