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I was still out of sorts from the reporter trying to gain access and then from Billy picking at Cassidy. Something is going on with him. He’s always been an asshole, but he’s been abnormally bad lately.
He wants her.
Too fucking bad. Never happening.
When this contract ends, the last thing I need is for her sticking around and dating a teammate. Not that I think she would. It was pretty clear that she despises Billy. Probably more than I do, which is saying something.
If I’m being honest, it’s more than that. Something about Cassidy feels safe. She takes care of me in ways I never knew I needed. I can trust her.
There’s only one problem, I can’t stop thinking about touching her. Kissing her. Fucking her.
Last night, when I held her in my arms, I almost lost it. The way her dress clung to her, the way her perfect nipples pebbled under my touch.
Fuck.
Thankfully, she wasn’t hurt. Just a twist, but being that close wasn’t a good idea.
Now I need to get my head out of my ass before Coach catches me zoning out.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m skating drills when I see Billy talking to Stefan. As I go by, I shoulder check him.
“The fuck, man? What the hell is your problem?” he yells to my back.
I smile. Good. Come at me, dick.
I loop around to see him skating at me. His helmet hits the ice, followed by his gloves. I follow suit, throwing off my gloves and stand tall. Hoping to convey that I’m not playing around.
“You know exactly what my problem is.” I skate closer, getting into his face.
We’ve drawn a crowd, but nobody attempts to get between us. They wouldn’t. Nobody loves Billy, and nobody would get in my way when I’m this angry.
“You think I didn’t hear the fucking shit you said to Cassidy?”
“The hell? I didn’t say shit.”
“You did,” I grit through my teeth. “And if she doesn’t report you, I will.”
“For what? Talking? Fuck you, Slate.”
“Harassment, asshole. You and I both know you’ve been beyond inappropriate with her. She has every reason to contact Coach or even higher up.”
“Are you seriously threatening me? I’m your fucking teammate. You’re taking some broad’s side?”
I shove him, and a couple of the guys move closer, likely to back me up if fists start flying.
“I’m warning you right now, if you don’t apologize to her and make things right, I’ll help her go to the proper channels. You’re second string. A nobody. This team doesn’t need you.”
“Fuck you,” he seethes.
“You’re expendable.”
He bares his teeth, and I laugh. “Aw, does that piss you off? Do you want me to lie to you and tell you that you’re special?” I huff a condescending laugh. “I can’t help that you’re a subpar hockey player. Get your shit together and apologize to her, or I’ll make sure you’re off this team by tomorrow.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” His words come out pathetic. Feeble.
“I have Coach on speed dial. Want to test me? I have plenty of time to watch you fall.”
His face is the color of a tomato as he looks from guy to guy, trying and failing to find an alliance.
