“Hey,” Liam said, walking in. “Let’s play Call of Duty.”
“I’ll beat your ass, like I do every time.”
“Whatever, bitch,” he muttered. “Let’s just play.”
We got things set up and it was a while before either of us spoke.
“What was with you and Brotz the other night?” Liam asked.
“He’s a douchebag. That’s about it.”
“He was talking about Sidney, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah. And you know I don’t listen to trash talk about anyone on the team.”
He made a skeptical hmmm sound.
“You got something to say?”
“She’s not on the team,” he said, shrugging.
“Yeah, well neither is Orion and neither is Bruce, but I won’t let anyone talk shit about them, either. They’re all on the team as far as I’m concerned.”
“I think you like her.”
“So what if I do?”
“Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Yeah, I like her. Alright?”
Liam nodded. “Cool. Just be careful, man.”
I wanted to be defensive, but I forced myself to stay quiet. Liam was trying to be a good friend. I was taken with Sidney but I knew he was right—I did need to be careful.
Sidney
As soon as I walked into the locker room behind Orion, the sounds of male banter and laughter quieted. This was the first home game since Orion and I had cleaned up the team roster, and I wanted to show the guys I was more than a faraway face in the owners’ box.
“Boys,” Orion called. “Ms. Stahl’s here to say a few words before game time. Listen up.”
I was here to encourage the team, but Killian’s presence among the others was like a flame, and I was the moth. All eyes were on me right now, but only one set of eyes mattered.
Clearing my throat, I steeled myself. I’d spoken to corporate boards of directors without even breaking a sweat. I was Sidney Stahl. Sidney Ice Queen Stahl, actually. I didn’t get intimidated.
“There’s been a lot of change on this team recently,” I said, looking around at the players’ faces. I deliberately didn’t make eye contact with Killian, because I had to hold my focus. “You’re here right now because Coach Caldwell believes in you. I believe in you. I want this to be a team we’re all proud of. And right now, win or lose, I’m proud of you. I’ve seen the work you’ve all been putting in, and it means a lot. It means everything. The great Vince Lombardi said that winning isn’t everything, but wanting to win is. That’s all I ask of you. Want it. Know you’ve earned it.”
I nodded at Orion and he started his pre-game talk. I knew this was a private moment between him and his players so I slowly worked my way to the back of the locker room, torn between feeling like I didn’t belong and not wanting to disrespect Orion by leaving the room. In the end I decided to stay. He didn’t talk long, and I stood waiting for the guys to head out to the ice. But I was surprised when, instead of leaving, they gathered into a tight circle. My ears perked at the sound of Killian’s deep, sexy voice murmuring something to the group.
Then his voice boomed throughout the locker room when he yelled, “Bennett, do you believe?”
“I believe!” Bennett yelled back, his voice the only sound in the room.
“Liam, do you believe?”
“I believe!” Liam’s voice reminded me of a drill sergeant’s no-nonsense bellow.
“I believe!” Killian yelled.
“We will win!” the rest of the team yelled back in unison.
“I believe!” Killian cried again as they all huddled close.
“We will win!” the others belted out.
“I believe!”
“We will win!”
“Flyers!” they all yelled together.
The room was charged with testosterone. I no longer felt like the female team owner, but rather a woman with raging hormones. Hearing them shout was so sexy and hearing Killian lead the team in that chant made me want to go directly home and break out my vibrator.
The guys finally started filtering out of the locker room. I studied Killian’s tall, wide body and the way his sweater fit him. Since college, I’d only dated men who wore suits to the office every day—investment bankers, entrepreneurs, entertainment agents. But that hockey uniform was damn sexy. And he was about to get it all sweaty when he hit the ice, which made it even sexier.
He turned to me and we locked eyes, his icy blue gaze full of meaning. The moment passed quickly as he left the locker room with his team.
I wished I’d worn a Flyers T-shirt and jeans instead of the dark green suit I’d chosen tonight. I was hot, and it wasn’t just from the locker room temperature. I gathered my hair into a ponytail and held it, fanning my neck. It was time to head up to my box and watch the game. I needed to get out of here. The locker room still buzzed with Killian’s masculinity.
Keri and Nicole were already sitting in the owner’s box when I walked in.
“Ms. Stahl, may I get you anything?” a young man asked, his voice breaking nervously. He wore the black vest of arena concessions staff.
“Do you have wine?” I asked, unbuttoning my suit jacket.
“No, ma’am. Only beer, soda, water and lemonade shakeups.”
“A beer would be great. You guys want one?”
Keri and Nicole nodded.
“Three beers, please,” I said to the server, who bowed slightly and scurried away.
“Did he just bow?” Nicole whispered.
“It was cute,” I said, hanging my jacket on the back of a chair and sitting down. “I didn’t miss the puck drop, did I?”
“No,” Keri said. “But you missed the introductions.”
“How was the locker room?” Nicole asked. “Did you get to see any of the guys naked?”
“Of course not. I’m not a voyeur. I just talked to them for a bit.”
As we waited for the game to start I went through my mental to-do list, sure I’d forgotten something. Relocating to Fenway, Indiana from New York City had me feeling out of the loop. I could no longer take part in the day-to-day operational meetings of Stahl Investments, my real estate company, and I hoped I hadn’t missed anything.
“Did the final contracts on the North Point deal get notarized and sent off?” I asked Nicole.
“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “You’ll need to ask Barb.”
Nicole had only been my assistant for a few months, and we still hadn’t fallen into a groove. I still missed my first assistant, Andrea. But she’d been overqualified for the job and I’d hired her to close deals for Stahl Investments instead. She was rocking the new job. But Nicole often acted as if she was my paid friend instead of my paid assistant. She was the daughter of close family friends and I was beginning to have second thoughts about hiring her.
I texted Barb about the contracts.
“God, he’s hot,” Nicole said softly as she stared out at the ice.
I followed her gaze to Killian, who was hovering and waiting for the puck drop. When the ref let it fall, Killian lunged forward and hooked his stick around it, sliding it to Liam.