Major Misconduct (Aces Hockey #1) (7 page)

Then the whistle blew and a penalty was called against the Aces, against Olaf Pilkvist. “Goalie interference?” Lovey cried. “Are you kidding me? He was totally pushed into the net!”

They watched the replay several times; it was crystal clear that Olaf hadn’t deserved the penalty. Lovey watched Marc on the ice arguing with the ref, as the team captain the only one who could do that. Of course it was to no avail; the ref wasn’t going to change his mind. But there were reasons Marc had to argue: one of them, so his team saw him standing up for them; another, so the ref and linesman were on notice that they’d made a bad call.

She couldn’t hear what Marc was saying. It appeared to be a fairly heated discussion, but the ref was allowing it, so Marc probably wasn’t shouting profanity at him. Olaf went to the penalty box for two minutes.

The crowd was on the edge of their seats watching the Aces play shorthanded. When the penalty ended, there would be only three minutes left in the game, so they needed to kill this penalty and then try for one more goal for the win. But just as the penalty ended and before Olaf could skate from the penalty box to the play at their end, one of the Bruins scored.

The atmosphere in the arena deflated.

“Shit.” Lovey slumped back in her seat. She watched with other disappointed fans as the Bruins then scored an empty net goal when Brent was pulled from the goal, ending the game at four-two for Boston.

“No need to rush out,” she said to Jillian with a sigh. “They’ll be doing media interviews for a bit. Though Duncan does change pretty quickly.”

They watched as the three stars were announced, Marc getting the third star despite the loss. Lovey smiled as he tossed his stick over the glass to a kid who was beyond excited, and when Marc flashed that smile again at the boy, her heart gave a little bump.

She wanted him.

She gave a small sigh of acceptance. She’d admitted it.

They hung out for a while waiting for Duncan’s text message.
Going to Eddy’s for food. Coming?

She looked up at Jillian. “They’re going to Eddy’s. Wanna go?”

“Sure!”

“I assume you know where it is,” she said to Jillian as they strolled to an exit.

“Yeah. It’s not exactly walking distance from here.”

“We can wait for Duncan. I’ll see how much longer he’ll be.”

She texted back and forth with him and eventually they met up with him at an exit. She introduced him and Jillian and they headed out to Duncan’s new vehicle. Jillian climbed into the back, leaving the front seat for Lovey. Lovey turned to her friend. “Should I text those guys we met and tell them where we’re going?”

“Yeah! They seemed like fun.”

“What guys?” Duncan demanded.

Lovey’s thumbs were busy. “Some guys we met in the second intermission.”

Duncan frowned as he pulled out of his parking spot. “Jesus, Lovey.”

“What?” She looked up from her phone. “You don’t want me dating hockey players. You apparently don’t want me dating
anyone.
Would it make you feel better if I told you Jillian’s a lesbian and she and I are dating?”

A choking sound came from the backseat.

“Jesus Christ,” Duncan muttered.

Lovey glanced behind her and saw Jillian shaking with silent laughter.

“Your sister’s hot, dude,” Jillian said. “Can’t keep my hands off her.”

“That is not funny,” Duncan growled.

Now Lovey dissolved into giggles. “You should see your face.”

He made a growling noise. “You’re gonna kill me, Lovey.”

“You love me,” she said with complete confidence and a smile.

“You are not a lesbian.”

“How do you know that?”

He frowned. “Was that the problem with Richard?”

Now she wanted to choke on her laughter. “Huh. Maybe it was.” Was he actually falling for this? She bit her lip. “By the way, nice goal in the third period there.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Jillian works for Moens Breweries,” Lovey said. “In marketing.”

“Oh yeah? Cool. You know Donovan Church?”

“Um, sure,” Jillian said, her voice dry. “I hang out with the CEO all the time.
Not.
I’m just an associate brand manager.”

“Oh. Well, he’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, I think he is. From what little I’ve had to do with him.”

They arrived at the restaurant and Duncan let them out in front, then drove away to find parking. Jillian and Lovey walked in and surveyed the room. “There are some of the guys,” she said, going on her toes and waving. “This way.” She led Jillian toward Jared and Brent. She experienced a pang of disappointment to see Marc wasn’t there. Then she remembered that he was meeting all those kids to get his picture taken with them and sign autographs.

They were soon joined by Corey, Hakim, and Josh, who were taken aback and impressed to find the girls hanging out with some of the Chicago Aces. They started talking to the guys about the game, and Jillian and Lovey exchanged amused glances at being sidelined like that.

It didn’t last long. A couple more players joined them along with their girlfriends, food and drinks were ordered, conversation veered away from hockey to other topics, and more flirting. About an hour later, Marc arrived.

Marc walked into Eddy’s, the last to arrive as usual. He’d been pissed off when he was the only one available to the media after the game, everyone else hiding in the screening room, even their veterans, Hallsy and Pauly. Yeah, he was sick of the same questions from reporters and the same tired answers, but so what? That was part of the deal. He’d stomped to the locker room and yelled at them to man up and get their asses out there. Yeah, they kept playing like shit and losing, but that was not a reason to hide out. Fuck that noise. They got paid the big bucks and they were accountable to the media and their fans and they damn well had to own their shitty play and hold their heads up and talk to people.

Going up to see those sick kids in the suite afterward had chased away his black mood, though. How could you be down when they were so excited to be there, pumped about the game even though the Aces had lost. These kids were battling things way more important than a fucking hockey game. It helped him keep things in perspective as much as it helped cheer them.

Now seeing Lovey perched on a high stool at a table laughing made that hard knot of disappointment in his gut loosen even more. His feet slowed in their progression through the crowded restaurant/bar, and he actually stopped to watch her for a few seconds. She was all bright light and warmth, dazzling him, making him want to go stand near her and see if she could illuminate the darkness that was threatening to fill him up again.

Spouting the same old platitudes to the media was getting painful. Talking to one another after every loss about what was going wrong was excruciating. But she was…radiant.

Then he saw the big blond guy she was laughing with and his gut clenched again. Damn. He forced his feet to move him toward the table, still watching Lovey as she turned to a woman beside her, a pretty brunette, and said something. Then the woman turned to Army, next to her, also said something, and Army burst out laughing.

Army laughing was good. He too had been pretty black in the dressing room after the game, the mood there bleak and quiet. Marc arrived at the big table with people crowded around it. “Hey,” he said.

“Duper!” Stoykers shouted. “At long last you arrive! You the man tonight, Super Duper!” He raised a hand in a high five, which Marc returned with a wry grin and a shrug.

“We still lost.” His two goals were meaningless if it didn’t result in a win.

He accepted congratulations and fist bumps, ordered a beer, then let Army introduce him to Lovey’s friend.

“This is Jillian,” Army said. “Lovey’s lesbian lover.”

Every male head at the table snapped to attention.

Marc’s throat closed up and he wheezed. “Uh…whut…?”

“Yeah, she’s the reason things didn’t work out with Lovey’s ex,” Army continued.

Marc’s mouth dropped open as he watched Lovey slide her arm around Jillian’s waist, lean in, and kiss her cheek.

He swore every guy at the table groaned. Duncan looked strangely gleeful.

What the ever-loving fuck? Lovey was no lesbian, that was for damnfuckingsure.

Or…? No. No fucking way. Marc narrowed his eyes at the two women. But damn, they made a pretty picture together. No wonder every guy was hurting. Fucking hell.

Okay. He needed to stop cursing, get his mind out of the gutter, and drink a beer. Or ten.

Lovey laughed. Her eyes sparkled. She and Jillian exchanged amused glances.

Did Army fucking seriously believe she was a lesbian? Jesus, he was an idiot. Marc shook his head.

Lovey looked at him and their eyes met. Her luminous smile pulled at him and he moved toward her and leaned down to speak into her ear. “Lesbian lover?”

She beamed up at him, eyes twinkling. “You don’t believe it?”

“Not a chance. What the hell is he talking about?”

She rolled her eyes. “He was lecturing me about who I date again, so I told him I was dating Jillian.”

He stared at her for a minute. Then he couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “Christ,” he gasped. He laughed more, then he shifted position to look at Army. “You’re an idiot, man.”

“What?” Army frowned.

“Your sister is not a lesbian.”

“I know that. But these guys don’t.” He gave a satisfied smile. “They’ll leave her alone now.”

“Are you kidding?” Marc shook his head. “Every guy is now fantasizing about a threesome with Lovey and her friend.”

Army’s jaw dropped. He sent a scowling glare around the table. “Shut the fuck up.”

Marc shook his head, unable to stop chuckling. “Dude. You had to expect that.”

Army’s face got red, like his blood pressure had risen rapidly. “There will be no threesomes,” he said in a quiet, tight voice to Lovey.

She was laughing too, holding on to the table to keep from falling off her stool. “Oh my God, Duncan. You are hilarious. Would you just butt out of my sex life?”

“Did someone say butt sex?” Rupper spoke from behind Lovey. “Didn’t know you were into that, Armdog.”

Army’s face now became purple. “I’m not!”

Lovey patted her brother’s cheek, still chortling. “It’s okay if you are. Your sex life is your own business.”

Marc laughed again. Christ, he hadn’t had this much fun in…well, he wasn’t sure. His abs actually hurt from laughing. And that was when he realized that cold hard knot was…gone.

“Okay, okay, everyone,” Lovey called, holding up her hands. “Jillian and I are not lesbians.” She paused. “That doesn’t mean a threesome is off the table, though.”

Army clenched his fists and growled as everyone laughed.

Marc slapped his teammate’s back. “You need another beer, Army. I’ll buy.”

It wasn’t long before Marc regretted that this Corey dude knew Lovey was into guys, because he was hitting on her big-time. This pissed Marc off. He listened to them talk about hockey.

“Are you kidding?” Lovey said. “Bennet is totally underrated. The offensive guys get all the attention because they score goals, but he’s good—always in position, blocks all kinds of shots.”

Corey gave her an amused look. “You sound like you actually know what you’re talking about.”

Lovey froze, then tipped her head. “You did not just say that.”

“Uh…”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “You think because I’m a girl I don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“I…uh…didn’t mean that…”

“Yeah. You did.” She shook her head.

“She’s right, man,” Marc said to Corey. “Bennet is better than people think. He’s a quiet guy, he plays in a quiet way. He’s smart and he’s a good skater.
We
notice the things he does, even if everyone else doesn’t.”

Lovey met his eyes. A slow smile curved her mouth and it felt like a kick to his heart. “Thanks. Excuse me. I need to use the ladies’ room.”

Heh. She was good. Damn good. A strange feeling of pride swelled inside him.

Hell. What the fuck was he proud about? She wasn’t his.

But he wanted her.

There. He’d admitted it. He wanted her to pull him into that circle of light and warmth she seemed to create everywhere she went, to ease his pain and frustration, to make things seem good again. But he couldn’t have her. He knew that. Army would hurt him if he touched her. He had no intention of touching her. He’d just have to ignore guys hitting on her and her flirting with them.

When Lovey returned, she ended up talking to Stoykers and Hughie. Marc grinned. That Corey dude was done. What an idiot.

But then she was flirting with other guys.

Marc would be driving, so he couldn’t drink the ten beers he wanted. Too bad this wasn’t a night he’d let Duncan drive. After watching Lovey flirt for a couple of hours, Marc had had enough. “Gonna head out,” he said to the others, sliding off his stool. He reached for his jacket, which was hanging nearby.

“I’m ready to go too,” Lovey said. “Can I get a ride home with you?”

He hesitated. He glanced at Army, who just shrugged. “How about you, Jillian? Need a ride?”

“That would be great,” she said. “But I could take a taxi.”

“No problem, I can drive you. Where do you live?”

She gave him her address in Streeterville, just a short detour out of their way, and he nodded and headed out with the two women.

“No threesomes!” Jared called as they walked out.

Marc shook his head, grinning.

Lovey and Jillian chatted all the way to Jillian’s apartment, mostly about Hakim, and Jillian’s plan to see him the next afternoon to go skating at Millennium Park. They dropped her off, and then it was just Lovey and him in the vehicle. He turned up the music—Arcade Fire.

“Great song,” Lovey said. “Love their new album. You like indie music?”

He nodded.

“You played great tonight,” she said. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you that at Eddy’s. I saw you go behind the net, just like you were talking about, and I knew you were going to score.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. You were really playing hard, especially in the third period. Too bad the rest of the team wasn’t. And that bad call against Olaf cost you the game.”

“Nah. We can’t blame the refs. One call doesn’t lose a game. We should’ve played better.” They were a team. They didn’t win or lose a game because of how one guy played or because of one shitty penalty. He couldn’t blame anyone else for the loss. At least, not out loud. Inside his head, though, he was concerned about a couple of the guys. “I try to get them going by playing the best I can.”

“That’s why you’re the captain.”

He shrugged.

“Do you practice tomorrow?”

“Nope. We get the day off.”

“That’s nice. What are you going to do?”

“Eh…dunno. Haven’t planned anything. Work out, probably.”

“Skating at Millennium Park sounds like fun.” She paused. “But then, skating is work for you, I guess.”

Was she asking him out? Did she want
him
to ask
her
out? It couldn’t happen.

Tempting as it was to picture them skating together, laughing…Nope. Couldn’t happen.

But heat shimmered in the interior of his SUV, the faint sweet vanilla cake and icing scent of her teasing him, the sincerity of her praise for his game warming him inside. He said nothing and tried to focus on navigating the snowy streets.

“Were
you
thinking about a threesome?”

His head snapped around and his jaw went slack as he gaped at her. “What?”

She smiled. “You said every guy there was thinking about a threesome with Jillian and me. Were you?”

“Uh…” He choked a little. “Uh, no, of course not.” He was not entirely lying. Sure, the idea had popped into his head, he was a guy and that was a very pleasant fantasy. But if he was really honest, he’d mostly been thinking about a twosome—him and Lovey. He swallowed a groan of frustration.

“I saw how you were looking at me.”

Fuck. Once again, he had a hard time finding words. “Looking at you?”

“Yes. C’mon, Marc, admit it. There’s some kind of spark between us.”

“No. No, there isn’t.” The words rushed out of his mouth. His heart picked up speed though, and desire surged through his body.

He pulled into the underground parking garage beneath their condo and found his space near the elevator. He stopped with a sharp tap of the brakes that jolted the vehicle, slammed it into park, and jumped out. He rounded the vehicle to open Lovey’s door, even though he wanted to bolt for the elevator. She leaped lightly to her feet and he flung the door shut and followed her toward the elevator, bleeping the locks over his shoulder.

In the enclosed space of the elevator, she studied him, for a change not saying anything, but he saw the heated interest in her eyes, and the full curve of her bottom lip made him break out in a sweat. Jesus, he wanted that mouth.

She apparently knew, and he realized he’d given himself away by staring at those lush lips when she dragged her tongue over her bottom lip. His dick thickened and lengthened and he shifted his feet on the elevator floor, willing it to travel faster and the doors to open so he could make his escape and barricade himself in his bedroom. Heat built between them as they watched each other, and he dragged his eyes off her and stared at the elevator buttons as if they were about to shoot sparks at him.

The doors slid open and he let her exit before him into the hall. She had her key out and used it to open the door, flicking the light switch right inside. She strolled into the living room, unzipping her jacket and unwinding her scarf.

“This view is amazing,” she said. “Look at it at night. With snow out there it’s even more sparkly.”

“Yeah.” He hung his jacket in the closet and took off his boots. “Okay. G’night, Lovey.”

She turned to face him, pulling her jacket off. So pretty. Her eyes were big and shadowy in her pale oval face, her lips shiny. The big loose sweater obscured her body, but he knew exactly what was hidden under it. Or almost exactly. Her little cami and panties that morning hadn’t hid much.

His hands itched and ached to touch. It was all he could do to stop himself from reaching out to take hold of her, pull her up against him.

“You’re going to bed.” She stated it, her voice quiet.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” And he started forward.

She stepped in front of him. He pulled up, leaning back from her so far he almost lost his balance. She set her hands on his chest, then slid them up, curling her fingers around his neck. His body zoomed onto high alert, every nerve ending sizzling, his cock hardening. The feel of her soft, warm fingers on the sensitive skin of his neck made his skin tingle everywhere. Fuck. Fuck, he was going down.

“Marc,” she murmured.

Every muscle tightened to the point of pain as he tried to resist the lust that burned through him. “Lovey,” he croaked. “Don’t do this.”

“Why not?” Her fingertips rubbed the back of his neck and she stared up at him with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes. Fuck, he wanted to taste her mouth, wanted his tongue inside her, wanted to crush her up against him.

Army. Army would kill him. He’d cut off his balls and shove them up his nostrils. Even that thought did nothing to make his dick soften. His hands somehow landed on Lovey’s hips. Somehow her body was touching his. He stared at her mouth, his breath tightening in his chest.