Lip Locks & Blocked Shots: A Slapshot Novel (Slapshot Series Book 3) Read online

  “Your eyes get green like the grass when you’re thinking about something and you’re trying to figure out how to phrase it,” she said and then turned red – again – at how much she had just revealed.

  "So that's a GM meeting tomorrow night," Brandon said slowly. There was something in his tone, something that indicated he was slightly suspicious of it.

  "Yes," Seraphina drawled, tilting her head to the side and slowly raising an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

  Brandon furrowed his brow, shaking his head as his arms crossed over his chest. "No," he said. "No, of course not. You do what you need to do in order to... do whatever it is you do..." He shook his head, wincing after he finished his sentence. "That came out weird. I'm sorry. It was just my understanding that this would be a meeting between you guys and the captains. I didn't realize it was going to be just you and him. Like a date."

  "A date?" Seraphina shot him a look. "Are you only asking this because I'm a female and he's a male and we're going to dinner?"

  Brandon clenched his teeth together and looked away. "I just find it highly suspicious that this guy's been set to be GM of the Blackjacks since last season and it's only now, when we're set to play the team, does he decide he wants to meet with you," he said. Before Seraphina could jump in and explain, he pushed on. "What's your meeting about? The trade deadline is coming up, sure. Are you planning to make some moves?"

  "I don't know what it's about," she said, sounding defensive. To be fair, it seemed as though he was interrogating her and she had no idea why that was. "If it was about trades, you know I couldn't tell you, anyway."

  Brandon pressed his lips together. He looked like he wanted to argue. He looked like he wanted to say something. But she also knew there was nothing he could say. Even if she was friends with him, even if they were lovers, she would not be able to divulge any information to him, even if she wanted to.

  "Listen," she murmured, trying to soften her tone. "What's on your mind?"

  He shrugged his shoulder, looking away. She furrowed her brow. She hated when he did this.

  To be honest, Seraphina and Brandon hadn't really spoken much. Maybe a few times a month, if that, and always with other people around due to the fact that it was due to a professional question or issue she needed to give a final say on. He hadn't sought her out on his own in a long time. Maybe even since her grandfather's murder investigation. She wouldn't necessarily say they were friends. Technically speaking, she was his boss and he was her player. But she was crazy, stupid in love with him. Whenever Brandon didn't want to answer a question or he got an answer he didn't like, he withdrew. He looked away. He crossed his arms. He pressed his lips together. He stopped talking. And that was saying a lot, considering he didn't talk much in the first place.

  "Are you disappointed you're not going to meet with Phil Bambridge?" Seraphina teased, her eyes lighting up with a sparkle. "I can put in a good word for you, if you want. I didn't realize you were so eager to jump ship and head to Vegas."

  Brandon cut her a look that caused the smile to slip off of her face. "The last person I would ever want to play for is Phil Bambridge," he said. "The guy's an asshole.”

  "An asshole?" Seraphina asked, giving him a doubting look. "Isn't that a little strong, Brandon?"

  Brandon's brow furrowed so deep, a prominent wrinkle appeared just above his nose. He gave her a jerking look, his pale green eyes flashing emerald.

  "Strong?" he asked. "You think that's strong? I think that's being nice about it. Have you done any research on the guy before you agreed to this date?"

  "It's not a date," Seraphina insisted. She was starting to get frustrated with his insistence that this was a date when it was definitely not a date and she wouldn't have agreed to it if it was.

  "Have any other GMs gone out to dinner with the guy by themselves?" Brandon asked her, quirking a brow.

  Seraphina felt her entire body tense. "How am I supposed to know that?" she asked, throwing her arms out and narrowing her eyes. "Do you honestly expect me to ask the guy, hey, have you been taking out every GM who visits your city to dinner or is it just me because if it's just me, I'm not okay with that because it's a date?" She gave him a deadpan look. "Come on, Brandon. If I want to be taken seriously, I can't just assume a meeting is a date. Don't you know how quickly that would be thrown back in my face? Typical female - can't just go to a business dinner without assuming there's more to it." She rolled her eyes for emphasis.

  "Okay," Brandon said, his voice tight and controlled. "I understand the predicament you're in-"

  "No, you don't," Seraphina said. "Look, I don't mean to interrupt and I'm not saying you can't grasp the concept of what it might be like to be in my shoes. The thing is, you don't actually know what it's like to be a female in a male-dominated profession. It doesn't matter that I have more money than thirty percent of the other owners and that I have arguably the best first line and goal tender in the league. I'm still reading articles about how people think I color my hair or that I wore a skirt that was shorter than my dress from the previous day. No other GM, no other owner, has ever had to go through that. And I get that it's part of the job. Maybe I didn't quite grasp the concept up until I experienced it directly, but I've accepted I'm never going to be taken seriously in the league no matter what I do."

  "No, you haven't," Brandon said, shaking his head.

  "Excuse me?" Seraphina asked, furrowing her brow.

  "You haven't," he repeated. "If you've accepted it, you wouldn't care about your clothes or the way you speak or how your hair is done. Obviously you would look professional, that's not what I'm saying. But you wouldn't worry what people are going to write about. You would do whatever you wanted, regardless. If you want to wear jeans one day or no makeup because you've been here since five in the morning, you do it. If you want to go home in the middle of the day for a nap, you do it. You don't have to live your life based on what you think is expected of you."

  "Don't you think I want to do all of those things?" Seraphina asked in a quiet voice. "Don't you think I want to be able to do what every other male GM does? Don't you think I want to make gentlemen's agreements and be trusted to negotiate a deal by myself without Henry Wayne stepping in to assist me? Don't you think I want to wear skinny jeans and chucks instead of high-waisted skirts and high heels? Don't you think I'm sick of either straightening or curling my hair because my wavy hair is too messy? Don't you think I want to be with who I want to be with but I can't because that would be ridiculously unprofessional?" She stopped, realizing she had said too much. She clenched her jaw and dropped her eyes to her desk. "Of course I want all of those things, Brandon. But I don't know how to get what I want without sacrificing how the team is perceived. You and I and everybody else represent this organization. But I hold myself to a higher standard because I'm the owner. I'm the manager."

  Brandon clenched his jaw and looked away. "I don't understand how Katella can be with Matt Peterson for two years, hook up with Xander Vane, and now be with James Negan, all within the span of a year and you can't wear converse shoes." He glanced at her. "No offense to your sister, of course, and I wasn't trying to insinuate anything by that but you were both Ken's granddaughters."

  "Trust me," she muttered to herself. "I am well-aware about my sisters dating choices and how I cannot make those same choices - not that I would, exactly, but still." Her eyes picked up and locked with his. "You have no idea how badly I want to blow this off, Brandon. Trust me, I do, but-"

  "Then blow him off," he insisted, leaving forward and scooting to the edge of his chair. "Bambridge is an asshole and a sleaze ball. Look him up, Seraphina. Look him up and see for yourself. He's been arrested for multiple sexual assault charges and he always bails out and the Vegas DA never decides to prosecute due to little physical evidence. You don't think he'd do the same to you?"

  Seraphina furrowed her brow. "I own the Newport Seagulls," she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If he
tried anything, it would be extremely stupid on his part, I have much more money than he does."

  Brandon rolled his eyes. "This has nothing to do with money and everything to do with power," he told her. "You, a young female, are equal to him. Even more experienced than him, actually, because you have a season under your belt. You don't think he's threatened by that?"

  "Not everyone is threatened by a strong, powerful woman," she pointed out. "You aren't."

  "I'm not," he agreed, "but I'm not everyone. And you're more than just strong and powerful, Sera." She shivered when he addressed her by her nickname. He had never done that before. "You're intelligent and passionate and beautiful. Men like Phil Bambridge would rather see you broken."

  "You speak as if you know him," Seraphina murmured.

  "I know of him," he told her, looking away. "He grew up a couple of neighborhoods down from me in a wealthy family. He knew my sister. I just... I don't want to see anything happen to you."

  Seraphina nodded and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Thank you for your concern, Brandon," she said, "but I can take care of myself."

  Chapter 3

  . “I’m late!” Katella yelped as she ran down the stairs, her luggage bounding down the carpeted stairs behind her. “I’m so fucking late!”

  “Which means we’re late!” Seraphina called from the doorway. “Kat, we are only going to be gone three days. It shouldn’t be that complicated to figure out what to pack. You used to travel with the team when you were with Matt. I don’t understand why it’s so complicated now.”

  Katella returned with her purse slung over her shoulder and her golden blonde hair in disarray. “Okay, yes,” she agreed, nodding her head once. “But Matt was… It’s just different, Sera. I know this should have been taken care of last night. I just…” She looked away and a small smile lit up her face. Seraphina almost forgot her frustration with her sister seeing Katella genuinely happy. Seraphina couldn’t remember a time when Katella looked like this, but she knew it had to be well before her grandfather died, and that was a year and a half ago. “This is my first official trip with Negan. Yeah, I know it’s a hockey game so technically he’s working and it’s not just going to be us and maybe it won’t even be that romantic. But this is a big deal and I just want everything to be perfect. We literally got together last month so it’s kind of a rush to suddenly take a trip, you know?”

  Seraphina pressed her lips together. Unlike her sister, Seraphina didn’t have the experience dating hockey players – dating anyone, really. She had had a couple of boyfriends back in high school and even one in college but none that were serious. Not like Katella was already serious with Negan. So she couldn’t judge, she couldn’t know what Katella was feeling.

  But she could be supportive. She could try to understand, even if it meant they were a little late.

  “Okay,” she said with a gentle nod.

  Katella’s eyes lit up and she pulled Seraphina in an awkward one-armed hug.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I think I’m good to go, though. Is Jimmy outside?”

  “Jimmy’s been outside the past twenty minutes,” Seraphina replied. “I actually owe him breakfast now.”

  Katella snickered as she opened the front door. Jimmy, their driver, rushed up to help the sisters with their minimal luggage before ushering them in the back of the sleek black town car. Seraphina shot one last look at her home, her heart hammering in her chest. She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling that this trip was going to change everything.

  “Well, well, well, Hanson,” a low, sandpaper voice said as Seraphina and her sister were assisted out of the town car. “Look who decided to show.”

  Seraphina pressed her lips together and averted her eyes. She knew Negan was referring to Katella rather than her even though their last name was the same.

  “Bite me,” Katella snapped.

  The team, all lined up and dressed in suits, chuckled at the familiar banter. Seraphina watched Negan push his brows high almost as if to say Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.

  Seraphina bit back a smile and kept her mouth shut as she walked past the players and boarded the plane. She knew there was a hierarchy to where the players sat depending on the roles and seniority on the team. However, Seraphina had her preferred seat and since she hated flying in general, she decided her desire won out over some hierarchy. As such, she took a seat in the first row next to the window. She snapped the window cover open and looked out. It was nice to be able to see where they were going and what to expect.

  She barely noticed as the team trickled through. She overheard one of the rookies complain about always having to wear a suit but it was a tradition her grandfather adhered to, even though they didn’t have to wear their suits until game day. Regardless, he liked the class it brought to the team and instituted it on travel days as well, which made some players uncomfortable. The majority went along with it because they respected Ken, and Seraphina kept the tradition as an honor to her grandfather’s legacy.

  After a moment, someone plopped down next to her. She glanced over, thinking it was her sister, and found herself staring at the chiseled profile of Brandon Thorpe. She immediately snapped her eyes away, not fully believing that this was happening.

  “Where’s Katella?” she managed to get out. Her tone made it sound like she wasn’t pleased by his presence and she shut her eyes, muttering at herself internally for not being careful about how she was presenting particular inquiries. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I –“ She tried to give him a charming smile and hoped it didn’t come out like she didn’t want him there. Because she did. At least, she thought she did. Actually, she didn’t want him to see her hyperventilate due to her fear of flying. “Never mind. I take it back.”

  He quirked a brow. “You take what back?” he asked. “The apology or the question itself?”

  “Um, the question,” Seraphina mumbled. “Sorry. I was just expecting my sister to sit here.”

  “I can go and get her if you want,” Brandon said. “I think Katella found her own row that may or may not include Negan. As captain, I sit up front. And as someone who doesn’t socialize, I was expecting to sit alone. But you’re here so I figured I would sit next to you.”

  Seraphina felt her cheeks turn pink. “That’s totally fine,” she said. “My bad.”

  He gave her an odd look that included a furrowed brow and a cocked head. Seraphina felt herself sink further into her chair.

  “Listen,” he said, reaching back to cup the back of his neck. “I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. It wasn’t my intention to have you think I didn’t take you seriously or that Phil Bambridge didn’t take you seriously. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…” He clenched his jaw so it popped and Seraphina’s eyes were drawn to the chiseled jawline. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  "I feel like this is coming out wrong," Seraphina said. Before she could say more, a pretty flight attendant began to announce the plane would be taking off and to please sit down and fasten seat belts. Seraphina felt her fingers curl around the end of the armrest, her knuckles turning white.

  Brandon glanced at her profile. His stare lingered a moment before dropping down to her hands. She hoped he didn't notice how tight her grip was. She hoped he didn't realize that her skin had gone pale. Her seatbelt was already fastened and her seat was upright. Her window was up, the sun already up and seeping through the window. The sunlight warmed Seraphina a face but it didn't do anything to calm down. Her heart was pounding against her chest like the victim of a horror movie locked up in the trunk of a car, pleading to get out.

  Without saying a word, Brandon placed his hand over hers. He didn't even look at her. However, her mouth dropped open and she looked at him with wonder in her eyes, surprised that someone as reserved and as stoic as he was would think to cover her hand with his.

  His hand was big and covered hers perfectly. It was callused but warm and while it didn't make the fear disappear the way she wan
ted it to, it helped relax her just a little. And to her, a little was enough.

  "I'm afraid of snakes," Brandon said, breaking the silence. He stared straight ahead but his thumb began to move up and down the back of her hand, so light, like a butterfly's wing. "When I was a kid, my older brother had a pet snake. It got out and somehow ended up in my bed at night. It was just a garden snake but I can still feel the smooth scales against my arm." He shuddered and his eyes snapped closed. "Ever since, I've hated them. I don't go hiking anywhere where there's a chance a snake could be present. Which sounds ridiculous since we live in Southern California."

  Seraphina felt her lips curl up and her heart warmed at what he was doing. Talking.

  "So you're like Indiana Jones?" Seraphina asked. The two flight attendants began reading instructions on safety, demonstrating with their props as the plane backed out from the gate.

  Brandon chuckled, a smile lighting up his face. It momentarily distracted her from her fear and she stared at it as long as possible, despite the fact that she might come across as crazy. She wanted to memorize it.

  "I wouldn't go that far," he said. "He is way better looking than me, for starters, plus he has the whip, which I would never be able to manage, and he can pull off a fedora like nobody's business."

  Seraphina started laughing, even more of the tension leaving her body, even though the jet was racing down the runway, about to take off at any moment.

  "I don't know," Seraphina said with a shrug. "You're kind of a badass in front of the net. You know how some players have an incredibly hard shot goaltenders are afraid to stand in front of them. I feel like some shooters are afraid to shoot when you're in front of net."

  Brandon threw his head back and started laughing. It wasn't even that funny but her tone was awkward and it was almost a ridiculous thing to say in the first place.

  Seraphina reveled in the sound. It was like music to her ears and she was so proud to be the one who caused it. She wanted to make him laugh always.