Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)

“Jackass.”

Wes chortles as we head into the locker room. “For real, I think Shea will be cool with it.”

“You think so?”

“Nope. I just want to watch you get your ass kicked.” I shove him as he laughs. “I kid, I kid. I do think so. You’re a nice guy, and even though it hasn’t been long, you treat her well. The noises I heard last night make me feel like she is really happy.”

I laugh. “Shut up.”

“Just saying,” he teases as he reaches for the door, opening it for me. “So, is she going to be all sweet and loving on the ice?”

I glance over my shoulder to him. “What do you think?”

He scoffs. “I think she’s gonna be even worse now.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of nervous.”

He waggles his brows. “Nervous? Aww, you like her.”

I shove him once more as he laughs. But the truth is, I do.

A lot. But I’m worried I can’t keep my feelings for her off the ice like I know she will.

So, in all reality, this is either going to be a shitshow or a cakewalk.

* * *

It’s actually option three: a mindfuck.

From the moment my skates hit the ice, it’s as if I don’t mean anything to Posey. I know for a fact that I do mean something to her. Wes wasn’t kidding when he was teasing me about the noise last night. She screamed my name like a damn opera singer. It was hot as fuck, and when she lay in my arms, her fingers stroking my jaw, she was with me. Truly with me, like a soul-deep connection. But you couldn’t tell that with how she is acting now that we’re on the ice. I don’t even think she’s looked my way.

Posey stands in her skates in a purple Assassins jumpsuit. Her hair is up in a no-nonsense bun, and under her arm is a helmet. She doesn’t usually have a helmet, so I’m intrigued. But more than that, I’m jealous of her ability to leave her feelings off the ice. I’m over here struggle-busing right now. I want to go up to her and wrap her in my arms and press my lips to hers. I want her to look me in the eye and tell me that my amazing passing is turning her on. I want her to wrap her legs around my waist like a koala and let me carry her so her poor little pinkie toe doesn’t hurt.

Jesus, mother of God, I sound like a chick.

Before I can dwell, it’s time for our line to go. We run the play, and it’s successful. I feel good. I feel like I’m actually gaining some ground. I know it’s only against my teammates, but before, I didn’t even feel like I could get one pass by them. I was too shaky, but now I feel like I’m finding my own. I got this. Posey said I did.

Speaking of her… She comes to the middle of the rink, and I watch as she speaks. She commands the ice, owns it, and fuck if she isn’t hot doing it. She’s so passionate, her eyes so intent on us as she explains what she wants. Jakob stands beside her, nodding. He isn’t good at the explaining, but once we know it, he can encourage and enforce like no other. He’s also the good cop, while Posey has been playing bad cop.

Hm, I should get some cuffs.

That would be a whole lot of fun.

“So, I know our SS 3 play has been a more angled approach, with our center shooting. I want to change it. I want an S-formation, but with the top winger shooting. The reason being, no one has done it. They always have the bottom winger or the center taking the shot ’cause they have a direct lane, and I want to try something new. I think Brooks can handle this shot. A sick wrister or even a toe drag.”

Aiden nods. “I can do that.”

“Good,” she says with a nod. “Mac, you’re my bottom, and Hoenes, my center.”

I almost scream out, “Yay! I get to play!” but I’m unsure how that would go over. She’d probably be annoyed by my immaturity, but I’m almost too excited to care. Almost. I don’t want her to think I’m too much of a dork.

As everyone breaks for water, I take my time, skating by her. “Hey.”

She looks up at me, her lips quirking a bit as she says, “Hey, Hoenes.”

“You weren’t calling me that last night,” I mutter, and her eyes narrow. “Kidding. But you weren’t.”

“Can I help you? Do you need assistance with the play?” she asks, coming close to me and holding out her tablet. She takes the pen and then writes on the screen.

Your passes look really good. I’m very proud.

I shouldn’t be this excited, but I am.