“Eh? You’re sounding like a Canadian.” With Claus, I didn’t have to force a smile. He was American and so damn friendly. He’d been the first to greet me and now, obviously, was being extra friendly. “The hotel’s really nice.”With plush carpet, so when you force your future coach to his knees, you’re less worried about him injuring himself. Or the king-sized beds that make fucking him into the mattress super easy.Jesus. The images in my mind.
“Yeah, I stayed at that hotel as well. Was really glad to nab an apartment near the rink. A couple of us are in that building. Hopefully, you can stay there as well.”
“You invite the new guy for beers?” Anty slapped me on the back. His grin wasn’t quite as youthful as the one Claus delivered. The couple of times I’d caught Anty’s gaze, I’d sensed a depth to him. Something beneath the jovial exterior.
“Of course he’s coming.” Lous sauntered over. The Black man was our captain and first line left winger, and man, from what I’d seen, he knew how to get the puck into the net. He was just a couple of inches shorter than me. Not quite as muscular—but then he wasn’t slamming opponents into the boards.
“Can’t wait,” I said. “I’d love a beer.”
Claus slapped me on the back as well, giving me a sense of camaraderie. “We’ll meet you guys over there.”
With that, everyone took off. I followed Claus closely. “Is, uh, everyone coming?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s an open invitation. You’re not the only new teammate, of course. Kulie and Sirs just got here, too. You being in the top pair makes you the most interesting newcomer, though.”
I wasn’t certain what he meant byinteresting.In fact, I wasn’t certain I wanted to know. Still, I happily slid into his SUV, and he was soon pointing us, according to him, northward.
“Abbotsford’s not too big. Bigger population than the small town I came from in Nebraska.”
I racked my brain, but couldn’t come up with an adequate response. I’d barely heard of Nebraska. They didn’t have a hockey team—that much I was certain of. “I’m from the Big Smoke. Grew up in Toronto. I’m used to thego big or go homementality.”
“Toronto, eh?” He started up a big hill. “Yet you’ve got a French accent. I mean, that is French, right?”
“Quebecois, yeah.” I grinned. Then the grin slipped. Fortunately, Claus couldn’t see. “My mom was from Quebec. She raised me, and I just absorbed the accent. Took a lot of shit from my classmates—until I got top grades in all my classes. French was the best, of course.”
“Were you in that, what, French immersion program? Tori—she’s our video coach and also Amy’s wife—was saying her niece and nephew are in the program. I mean, I don’t know what they need French for out here. I meet lots of Indians, a few Chinese, and other people, but no Frenchies.”
I laughed. “It’s a Canadian thing. If you manage to speak the two official languages, you can sometimes get a leg up. These days, though, any second language helps.” I noted the McDonald’s. “Well, except Latin.”
“Oh, yeah. Nothing like a dead language. You speak anything other than French and English?”
“Nope. That kept me busy enough.” I considered for a long time before continuing. “I studied French literature at U of T. Well, part-time. Hockey always came first, you know?”
“French Lit at the University of Toronto?” He slid into the right-turn lane and, when traffic was clear, executed the turn. “Okay, that I didn’t see coming.”
I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see. “I don’t exactly go around sharing that with everyone. I mean, most people would be bored hearing me discuss Honoré de Balzac, Simone de Beauvoir, and Victor Hugo.”
Claus snapped his fingers. “Yeah, but haven’t I heard of Hugo? Here we are.” He pulled into a strip mall, and I spotted the sign for The Trading Post in a stand-alone building. He parked, cut the engine, and gazed at me. “I don’t have to tell anyone. But I think it’s cool. And one day you’re going to tellme what else you’re hiding.” He winked and got out of the SUV.
Oh shit. He couldn’t possibly know about my proclivities. About the fact that I fucked our coach last night. Or that it’d been the best lay…of my life?I tried to quell the panic rising. He couldn’t know. As for the best lay of my life, since I hadn’t done much sleeping around, I didn’t have a bevy of guys to compare Coach to. I certainly had never been…so aggressive so quickly into a hookup. I’d updated my profile on the app when I got here. Despite being a religious town—or maybe because of it—I’d hoped I could get some action. In retrospect, picking a guy at the same hotel had been a monumental mistake.
I got out of the SUV.
Rizz, one of our forwards, and Pells, another D-man, greeted us as we stepped into the bar.
“We’re upstairs.” Rizz gestured with his chin. “I like it here.”
“Yeah, they don’t mind when we get loud.” Claus nudged me.
Obligingly, I headed toward the stairs, and we all tromped up. I was sore from practice—but nothing I couldn’t handle.
I hope Coach is feeling sore in all the right ways.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I couldn’t believe that thought had flashed through my mind. Because, dammit, I didn’t need to know whether Coach’s ass was sore. Or whether his butt was bruised. I hadn’t spanked him too hard, so no bruisesshouldbe showing. I’d asked him about marks, and he’d made it clear below the neck was fine and to leave his arms alone as well. Everything else was fair game. In the end, since it’d been our first time playing, I’d stuck to his ass. Well, and yanking his hair.
Grateful for the cover of the table to hide my crotch, Iplonked down in the chair next to Claus. Because nothing like getting a boner while with teammates.