Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)

“Aw, Posey! I’m jealous. Yeah, it wasn’t the dreamy roses-and-candles first time, but it’s still sweet, even though he has no clue.”

Don’t get me wrong. When I look back on this, I will smile at how I lost my virginity. It wasn’t traditional or clumsy or anything like that, but it was special. Boon made me feel good. Safe. And I’ll never be able to thank him enough for that. I enjoyed it, and I want more. I do. Problem is, I’m in my head now.

“Yeah, but I’ve completely fucked myself up mentally.”

“How so?”

I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “Well, he hasn’t called, and I know he’s on the ice and in meetings, but couldn’t he have messaged me?”

“Posey, it’s been like an hour. Relax.”

“I know,” I say with a sigh, feeling a little stupid. Needy. I’ve never been needy, so I don’t understand this feeling. “But he’d come in, all pissed about me wanting to take him off the power play, and then he accused me—”

“Wait, you want to take the dude you’re feeling off the power play?”

I blink. “Ally, I’m a coach. I have to coach.”

“You’re a hard-ass, you know that? Like, I envy you. I’d never be able to keep my feelings in check.”

I blink once more. “It isn’t easy, but now I’m thinking he did this to stay on the power play.” Saying it out loud hurts. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I feel like I’m enough? “I really felt like he was hitting on me last night, and then the DMs—”

“Wait, I’m confused.”

“What?”

“You think he slept with you to stay on the power play after he hit on you for most the night. He asked you to get out of there, but you assumed he was trying to get away, so you left—like a dumbass, mind you. And then he slid on into your DMs, saying all kinds of naughty things—honestly, he would have had me with the cookies—yet you’re questioning if he is feeling you? If he is using you?”

I press my lips together. I know what she is saying. I’ve said the same, but I can’t just believe that he wants me. “Yes.”

“Posey, I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do.”

“Okay, so don’t get your feelings hurt when I tell you you’re a fucking idiot who needs to get your head out of your ass and notice that this dude is digging you. That, yes, he hasn’t called, but he is doing hockey shit. And yes, it’s all a little weird and you don’t know where y’all stand, but instead of jumping to the worst-case scenario, enjoy the fact that you just got banged on a desk by a super-sexy dude who calls you gorgeous at every turn. Do you hear me?”

I swallow hard. “I do.”

“You are incredible, and I think he sees that, and it excites me to no end. Relax. See how this plays out, and don’t just assume the worst.”

“Okay.”

Silence stretches between us. “You’re assuming the worst?”

I let my head fall to the desk with a thud. “Yes,” I groan. I can’t help it. It’s all too wonderful. This doesn’t happen for me. A sexy dude thinking I’m gorgeous? Please. And wanting me because he wants me? Not to get ahead or get with my sister? No, it doesn’t happen.

For good reason, Ally is annoyed. “Jesus.”

When a knock comes at my door, I look up to see Jakob. “Come on, kiddo. They want us early.”

I nod and stand up. “I gotta go,” I tell Ally.

“Okay, for real. Get out of your head and see if you can talk to him later.”

“Okay,” I agree, and then I hang up, tucking my phone into my pocket. I hurry to catch up with Jakob so we can enter the meeting room together. As we walk, we go over what we want to focus on in the meeting, which is the Minnesota Wild’s penalty kill. It’s first in the league, and since we already struggle with the power play, I want to make sure to encourage the guys to be aggressive since the Wild will be. I think I want to change some things up, but I’m still on the fence.

Once we enter the meeting room, I glance around quickly to see where Boon is. I can’t help it. I need to know. I need him to look at me and reassure me. I find him in the top row between Aiden and Wes. He leans on the table, looking relaxed and carefree as he listens to Coach.

I wait. But nothing.

“Ah, good. Posey, you’re taking the lead today?”

I nod confidently. “I am, thank you.”

I go to the front and plug in my tablet as I say, “Okay, I’m sure Coach has gone over the front line and their one line of defense, but I want to cover their penalty kill.” Once my tablet is hooked up, I tap a few things, and a video comes up from the Wild’s last game where they kept the Jets from scoring nine times. “They are messy and get a lot of penalties, but it’s because they don’t care. They know they can kill them off, so they’re playing extra aggressive to get that edge on their opponent—in the hopes they won’t get caught. We have to stay smart, tight, disciplined, and just as aggressive.”