Page 20 of My One & Goalie
“Don’t tell me how my son feels.” Charles wraps his fingers around Jett’s arm, pulling his small body around behind his back.
“Thought someone should let you know how your actions impact others.”
“Ironic coming from a suspended hockey boy.”
I balk, trying to hide my shock. Last night, this guy never heard of me. Now he knows my fucking life story?
Charles leans into my personal space, his face inches from mine. “Yeah, I googled you. You’re in deep trouble with the league. The bad boy of hockey, they call you. How about you stay the hell away from my family? Go back to the city, where you belong.”
Puffing out my chest, I straighten my shoulders and stand at my full height. I tower over this punk, anger simmering below the surface of my skin.
“Thanks for the unsolicited advice. But I’m not going anywhere.”
“Suit yourself,” he sneers, the corner of his thin lips curling. “I wouldn’t have taken you as a guy who’d settle for sloppy seconds, though.”
My hands automatically ball and my jaw tenses. I’m beyond pissed right now, my fist itching to connect with this asshole’s face.
“Hey, Charles.” Jackson jogs back into the rink, circling around to my side. He rests his hand on my forearm, a silent warning. “I just left you a voicemail. Thought maybe lines got crossed about pick-up.”
“No. I hit some traffic. Come on, Jett. Let’s go.” He grabs Jett’s hand and drags him out of the rink, not bothering to say goodbye, let alone apologize for his tardiness.
I stand and seethe, Jackson’s hand the only thing keeping me from pummeling the dickhead. Well, that and the fact that Jett’s right there and I don’t want to traumatize him any further.
“Be cool, Kovac. He’s not worth it,” Jackson mutters.
I nod, my neck stiff with tension. “I know. But he’s a real asshole.”
“I warned you. That’s what I was trying to tell you. I really love Rachel, but you also have to deal with him. And it might not be worth it, dude. You still have a professional hockey career to think about. Do you really want to get involved in that mess?”
I frown, head and my heart warring. The smart decision would be to walk away, not get involved.
But I’ve never been known for smart decisions.
“Yes. If it means a shot with Rachel, then yes.”
“Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”
CHAPTER 9
RACHEL
Ihaven’t gone on a first date in almost a decade. Add to that, I’ve been with a whopping total of two people, and one of them was Charles. And he barely counts, he was so awful in bed. It’s a miracle I got pregnant with Jett because we rarely had sex and when we did, the entire act lasted about ten minutes from start to finish.
Like I said, bad in bed.
Not that the date with Xander will end between the sheets. I highly doubt that. But what if it does? I’m woefully unprepared. Unskilled. Is a born-again virgin a thing? Because if it is, I qualify.
Gah.I can’t keep thinking like this.
Slipping on a black sweater dress, I pull the cozy fabric down over the matching black bra and panty set I managed to find. I slide on ankle booties and smooth my blonde waves over my shoulders. With a light coat of pink lip gloss and a swipe of mascara, I’m ready.
Knock, knock, knock.
Butterflies zooming around my growling stomach, I take a quick, calming breath and hurry to the door.
“Hey.” Xander’s deep voice sends heat straight to my belly and the butterflies flutter even faster.
He’s fucking hot, wavy, dark hair still damp from the post-practice shower, stubble peppering his chiseled jaw. The light blue button down must be custom fit because it perfectly showcases his broad, muscular physique and matches his eyes. He’s as spectacular in jeans as he is in workout clothes, the tight denim hugging his strong quads. Leaning in, he lightly brushes his lips against my cheek and his scent almost undoes me. Clean and woodsy, winding around me and reminding me that this guy is all man.