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High Risk Rookie: Chapter 8

LEVI

I SAT ALONE in my apartment, too keyed up to even turn on the TV. Only five days until they started training camp. I hadn’t heard from Krista since she had talked to me about Scott. I had no idea what he had said about me, but I figured it wasn’t good. Had he tainted my chances with the Wolves?

There had been no word from Mark or Krista about the upcoming camp either, so now I needed to start thinking about a backup plan if I didn’t get invited. I had saved as much as I could from my stipend, which would keep me afloat until I figured out where to go next.

This is my last chance to be a hockey player.

I had to work to push that thought to the back of my mind. I would deal with the loss after it happened.

A knock sounded at my door.

I knew it would be Krista before I answered, but I wasn’t prepared for the picture she made with her tight black polka-dot pants and low-cut frilly blouse. I had never met a woman who wore clothes as dramatically as she did.

She put one hand on her hip. “Are you going to invite me in?”

I held open the door and watched as she walked into my place and boldly looked around. I couldn’t take my eyes off her perfect ass as she looked around the kitchen and then opened a few cupboards.

I watched with amusement. “Are you looking for something?”

She shut the door and turned to me. “Yeah: evidence that you actually live here.”

“I do.”

She pursed her lips. “You haven’t been answering your texts.”

“I lost my phone charger. I meant to pick one up today. I forgot.”

She looked around. “How does someone who keeps their place this neat actually lose anything?”

I didn’t want to tell her that my phone charger had mysteriously gone missing from my locker. “What did your text say?”

“My text said I needed to talk about Scott Spears.”

Something tightened inside of me. My previous agent was nothing but bad news. “Thought we already did.”

She opened a kitchen drawer and peeked in. “You know, I think these rental suites are counting on the fact that you’re not going to do much cooking here.”

“Tell me about Scott.”

She gave me a regretful look. “I think he figured out how valuable you are, so he is contesting releasing you as a client.”

That pissed me off so much I remained silent. I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth.

She watched my face. “It pissed me off too. Don’t worry. I guarantee my lawyers are better than his.”

She was investing a lot of money in me, and I hadn’t even been invited to training camp yet. “So, do we just wait?”

She made a noise in the back of her throat as she opened another drawer. “You can accept the training camp contract without his involvement. I can unofficially organize that for you, as long as it’s clear I’m not getting any financial kickback from it.” She looked around. “Did you hire a maid?”

“Military father.”

That made her pause and look at me more carefully, but unlike most people, she didn’t start probing with questions. “Mark’s staff all report that you’ve been incredibly focused.”

I couldn’t look away from her gaze. “You’ve been checking up on me.”

“No, but Mark has, and then he usually tells me things.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about his Big-Brother approach. “Is he always like this?”

“Only in the beginning. He’s like a watchful parent. When you earn his trust, he’ll leave you alone.”

I didn’t respond.

She added, “So far, he likes what he sees.”

It was as close to encouragement as I would get from her. I’d take what I could get. “Okay.”

Her phone rang, and she looked to see who was calling before silencing the call.

Was it another man? A date? I wished she had picked up so I could try to figure out if she was dating anyone. “You can take that if you want.”

She shook her head. “It’ll be a painstaking conversation with my mom about all the things I’m supposed to pick up for my sister’s baby shower.”

“That was your mom?”

She gave me a sardonic look. “Yes.”

I tried but failed to imagine Krista at a baby shower. “Your sister, the figure skater, is having a baby?”

She avoided my gaze. “The one and only.”

“When’s the party?”

“Next weekend.”

That was the weekend of hockey training camp. She hadn’t brought up the subject of training camp since our night at Pierre’s, and now she was taking a personal weekend on the same weekend. I seesawed back to the idea that I might be getting sent home at the end of the week. My stomach tightened with dread.

“Don’t worry, my parents live in Victoria. I’ll be five minutes away from the camp.”

“Assuming I get invited.”

“Of course, we’re assuming that. Have you had any issues with Brody?”

“He’s tried to get under my skin, but no big deal.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

Brody was unsuccessfully trying to intimidate me. Stupid shit, like giving me the death stare when I walked by or watching me during my ice time. I also suspected he was messing with my locker. Small things were going missing, like my phone charger. My shampoo bottle had emptied all over the bottom of my bag when I swore I had screwed the lid tight. A half dozen incidents like that told me someone was messing with me, but I had no proof it was Brody, so I refused to make any accusations.

“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“Tell me what is going on.”

“Nothing.” I would deal with Brody when I was good and ready.

“Levi, this kind of stuff doesn’t tend to get better. It gets worse. It needs to be documented.”

“Not before training camp. If one or both of us gets cut, this problem will go away.”

“I can help.”

“I can handle it,” I warned.

She hesitated but didn’t push back. Instead, she crossed her arms and leaned her hip against my counter. “Tell me about Dee.”

I didn’t want to talk about physiotherapy right now. “Nothing to tell.”

“Do you like working with her?”

I hadn’t seen Krista alone in weeks. I wasn’t going to waste it talking about my physiotherapy. “She’s fine. Want a beer?”

She gave me a long look. “One drink.”

I went to the fridge, handed her a bottle of beer, and poured myself a glass of water.

“You’re not even having a drink?”

“Trust me—I’d love nothing more than a beer right now, but not when I’m training.”

She looked around. “You’re disciplined.”

“I have questions.”

“About hockey?”

I took a sip of my water. “About you.”

“I’m an open book. Ask away.”

“Are you dating someone right now?”

She made an amused noise. “Like being married to you isn’t enough trouble?”

“It keeps me awake, wondering if you are alone. You, of all people, should appreciate that I need my sleep.”

She turned away from me as she snooped through another drawer. “Count sheep.”

My fingers itched to grab handfuls of her ass. It looked perfect in those pants. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“Are you asking if I’m dating someone or sleeping with someone?”

I could not take my eyes off her ass. I set my water glass down. It was time to take my shot.

Her entire body reacted with a long, slow shudder when I came up behind her and nudged my mouth against her neck. She smelled so good. “Either.” I paused. “No, both.”

She arched her neck. “I sleep alone.”

She gasped when I spun her around. “I want a taste of your beer.”

She looked up at me through her dark lashes. “You want a sip of my beer?”

I grabbed her by the waist. She gave a cute squeak when I lifted her onto the counter. I stepped in between her legs and planted my hands on either side of her. My face was only an inch away from hers. “I said a taste, not a sip.”

This was her moment to say no, to duck her head, to push me back and tell me that my advances were not welcome—but she did none of that.

Instead, she widened her eyes and stared into my own. “Oh.”

I dipped my head towards her so that I could capture her mouth with my own. She tasted like cold beer and warm woman. I put my arms around her body and yanked her against me. She made another little noise that shot straight down to my already rock-hard cock.

I kissed her with my eyes open, loving how her eyelashes fluttered.

I wanted to ask her the question I had repeatedly asked myself since Mexico. I moved my mouth to her neck. “Why did you have bite marks after we spent the night together?”

Her breath hitched a tiny fraction. “I have no idea.”

“I’m not a biter,” I told her, as I moved my mouth down to just below her jawline. “So, is this your kink?”

She arched her neck against my mouth and gasped when I lightly used my teeth. “It turns me on.”

I pulled back and looked her in the eyes. “How?”

She swallowed. “It makes things feel…”

“Primal?” I finished.

“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “And I like it.”

That is exactly how I imagined sex would be with her.

I put my lips against hers. This time she kept her eyes open too. “Is it the pain?”

“No,” she said, and I couldn’t resist having another taste. I kissed her until she moaned. Then I pushed her hair off her neck and worked to taste all the spots I had missed. Her entire body shuddered in response.

“It’s about power,” I told her, knowing exactly what she liked about it. It was my personal experience that bossy chicks loved to get bossed around in bed.

“No,” she gasped, as my lips hit a sensitive spot. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

She smelled so incredible; I didn’t want to remove my face from her neck.

She arched a bit closer to my mouth. “We can’t cross our line.”

“Your line,” I murmured against her neck.

She whimpered as I moved to the other side of her neck. “Why don’t I have any control around you?”

My mouth found a place behind her ear that made her shiver. “Because you know how good this is going to be.”

“This is such a bad idea.”

I took my time lifting my mouth from her skin. I spoke softly in her ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

She pushed her ear against my mouth. “Yes. No… I don’t know.”

I didn’t know if we would ever cross that line, but I knew if we did, we both needed to be sold on the idea. I planted a light kiss on her lips before slowly pulling back.

Her mouth clung to mine. “More.”

She would tempt a saint. It took most of my willpower, but I pulled back so I could stare into her eyes. “You’re the one who just said no.”

“I also said I don’t know.”

“Which is why we need to stop.”

She blinked and then lifted her hand. I held it as she wiggled off the counter and slid to her feet.

She didn’t say a single word as she walked across the room towards the front door. She looked back over her shoulder at me. “Plug in your phone.”

And then she was gone.

I walked ten blocks to find a convenience store that sold chargers.

That night, I listened to a personal message from Mark Ashford offering me a place at the Vancouver Wolves hockey training camp.


FIVE DAYS LATER, I was leaning against the wall in the lobby of a hotel in downtown Victoria. I stood alone in a room filled with other hockey players, and I didn’t recognize a single face. In Europe, I knew most of the players in my league. Here, I didn’t know anyone.

I deliberately stood off to the side and observed the group as a whole. I was watching who knew each other, who were friends. Groups of players were starting to form as we waited for our first meeting to start. Brody walked in with Red on his left, and he started to work the room like a politician. This was his home turf. He had that advantage, but the real battle would happen on the ice.

“Rookie,” a feminine voice said from behind me.

Something kicked me in the gut when I turned to watch Krista walk towards me. She wore jeans, heels, and a floaty, colorful blouse that still managed to showcase her magnificent breasts. I had to work to keep my eyes on her face. “Hi.”

She stopped just inside my personal space. “How’s it going?”

“No complaints.”

“I thought I’d check in with you.” She looked around. “What’s happening now?”

“It’s our welcome meeting.”

She looked up at me, her blue eyes focused on mine. “Pay attention in there. Tonight, they will tell you what they’re looking for.”

“There are a lot of players here.”

“I’ll do the math for you. There are eighteen defensemen fighting for two permanent defense positions. And I’m fairly certain that one of those permanent positions will be filled by last year’s rookie. They’re negotiating right now. There is also one temporary position that will be filled until January for an injured veteran.”

We watched as groups of guys walked by, laughing at some joke. It made me miss my old team. “You know this for sure?”

“I’ve heard rumors.”

Those weren’t great odds. “Any parting words of wisdom?”

“Yeah: don’t fuck this up. I have to go.”

I worked to keep her talking. “Nice pep talk.”

“You earned it.”

I wanted to know who she had been thinking about when she put on that blouse, because I was getting a damn eye strain from trying not to look at her breasts. I had no idea that keeping my eyes on her face would take this much effort. “Where are you going?”

“To pick up the champagne for the party—and probably a couple of bottles of wine to get me through this weekend.”

I laughed.

She gave me a look. “You think I’m joking.”

Her hair looked perfect, and her lips were a dramatic dark red. That blouse looked like it was created to showcase her body. The question came out of me before I could stop it. “What about after?”

She started digging through her purse. “What about it?”

“Are you going on a date?”

“You sound like my mom.” She pulled a phone charger from her purse. “Here. Take this.”

“I bought one.”

“This will be your backup.”

I took it. “Thoughtful. You never answered the question.”

“My dating life is none of your concern.”

She had a point, but I didn’t have to like it. “What if I want it to be my concern?”

She ignored me. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks for stopping by.”

As I watched her walk away from me, I couldn’t take my eyes off that ass. And I couldn’t stand the thought of some other guy touching it.

I walked to the line of players at the door. Ahead of me, Brody was joking with some of the guys. He turned and gave me one of his famous dark stares.

That was okay. Because I was itching for a fight.

I moved so I stood directly behind him.

He looked over his shoulder and gave me another look that was filled with menace. “You don’t belong here.”

I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “You’re all bark, Hillman. You don’t even know how to bite.”

He spun around and grabbed me around the neck. I let him. I let him push me back through multiple players until multiple hands started to pull him off me. That’s when I took my shot. I punched him in the nose. My intention was to inflict extreme pain without quite breaking bone.

“Fuck,” he said as he held his hand to his nose. Blood sprayed down his shirt.

“Hillman! Ziegler!” Mark Ashford spoke from the other side of the doors. The surrounding players scattered like the wind.

He looked at Brody. “Go clean up.”

Brody didn’t waste any time heading for the elevator.

Which left only me to deal with Mark. “Sorry, sir.”

He looked around the lobby, his eyes thoughtful. “I need you two to get along.”

My jaw tightened. “I never start this shit, okay?”

He looked at me. “Then be the one to end it.”

I looked away from him, hating being told how to handle it. “I thought I just had.”

“With a little less violence.”

“With all due respect, sir, I believe my methods are more effective.”

A smile touched his lips. “No doubt. But I still would prefer you do things my way.”

This man held my future in his hands. I didn’t have to like it, but I needed to respect it. “Yes, sir.”


FRIDAY MORNING, they started our day with an early, hour-long bike ride. The competition began immediately with most of us pushing to come in first. By the time we got back to the stadium, we were all dripping in sweat.

We suited up and were immediately divided into two groups depending on if we played forward or defense. The goalies were divided up between us, and we started a grueling practice that focused almost entirely on cardio. After that, we had a scrimmage game. The line I was given was weak, so no matter how hard I hustled, the competition blew past our defense and scored multiple times during our game.

While I was in play, I caught sight of glossy auburn hair and red lipstick in the stands, but when my shift was over, she was gone, and I wasn’t sure if she had just been my imagination.

We broke for lunch, and then they pushed us through another practice, another full scrimmage, and a brutal fitness test at the end. I had been conditioning hard for the past five weeks, and I found the test tough. Some players were puking up their water halfway through.

Someone skated up beside me. “You can see who was drinking this summer and who was training.”

I turned and grinned at Rio. “Hey, man. How are you?”

“Not bad. Nice to see you.”

“I saw your goal earlier. It was a perfect slapshot.”

He bumped gloves with me. “Thanks.” He looked around. “Tough group this year.”

“I just learned the odds.”

“Seventeen of us working for the one spot.”

“Who’s the favorite?”

“Brody, most likely.”

As if he could sense us talking about him, Brody turned and looked over at us. He was definitely the front favorite. He seemed to know everyone in the league, and the coach had put him on one of the best lines. He was fast and competitive, and his cardio was as good as mine. But I didn’t think he was better than me. Eight months ago, I would have been the better player.

He threw me another dirty look before skating away.

I’m coming for you, Brody. I’m going to take your spot.


IF I THOUGHT Friday was tough, it was easy compared to our day on Saturday. We had another highly competitive bike ride before they went over yesterday’s scrimmage games in detail.

Then we were sent to suit up and get on the ice. I was halfway through getting dressed before I realized that someone had cut my laces. When I went into my bag to find new laces, they were missing. By the time I found a trainer who helped me re-lace my skates, I was late for practice.

Gordon, the head coach, blew his whistle and yelled, “Nice of you to join us, Ziegler.”

“I needed new laces.”

“I don’t care what you needed. Your teammates will do ten pushups on ice for every minute you were late.” He checked his watch. “And you were six minutes late.”

Around me, players gave me the stink eye as they got to their knees. Everyone except Brody. He lowered himself to the ice and looked up at me with a grin.

Way to go, he mouthed at me.

I ignored him as I got on my hands and knees.

“Ziegler! You don’t get to join them—you get to count for them. Now come stand at the front where we can see you, and count to sixty for everyone.”

I was pissed, but I was doing everything I could to mask my anger. I didn’t care about the little shit, but when someone started messing with my game, I had no choice but to engage.

I raised my eyes up to the stands as I counted out loud to sixty. Krista was there. Beside her, Mark Ashford and two other men sat watching.

When I was done counting, the coach blew the whistle. “Skate it off, boys. You have five minutes.”

We started to skate. A few players muttered at me, but most of them wouldn’t even look at me.

I skated alongside Brody and spoke to him through my smile. “You scared to try to settle this on the ice as a hockey player? Are you such a gutless, talentless, wannabe hack that you need to do things behind the scenes?”

He picked up his pace. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

My eyes scanned the seats for Krista, but I only saw Mark Ashford. We briefly made eye contact. I gave Brody an easy smile. “I can smell your fear, Brody. I think everyone can.”

His stick went between my skate, and he tripped me. I almost hit the deck but somehow recovered. “You got a problem?”

He ignored me as he skated away.


AT 10 P.M., even though my body was exhausted, my mind was wide awake as I went over every single moment of the day.

My phone rang, and Krista’s name appeared on my phone screen. I picked up on the first ring. “Hey.”

“How was your day?”

“Good, but long. They worked us pretty hard today. How was yours?”

“This weekend is like a bad flashback of my childhood.”

I laughed. “How was the baby shower?”

“It doesn’t happen until tomorrow afternoon. Today, my mom made a total of five people cry. Even scarier, I don’t think that’s her personal best.”

I grinned like a fool. “What’s your personal best?”

“In one day? I once made three people cry, but I was one of them.”

“What happened?”

“It’s in the past.”

Why did I want to know everything about her? “Were you one of the people who cried today?”

She made an indignant noise in the back of her throat. “Please. It would take more than my mom to make me cry.”

I tried to imagine Krista crying but failed. “What happened today? Why were people crying?”

“My mom is a perfectionist, and most people fail to meet her high standards. Things got heated, and then tears were shed. Why were you late for practice?”

“Someone cut my laces and then took the spares out of my bag.”

“Who?” Her voice went up a notch.

I didn’t want to tell her about my continuing suspicions of Brody. “No clue, but it didn’t win me any friends.”

“Levi, let me help.”

I had zero interest in getting her involved. “Thanks, but nope.”

“We need to deal with this.”

“Not until after training camp is done.” I knew I wasn’t going to sleep. I decided to go for a walk. “Tell me more about the baby shower.”

She made an unimpressed noise. “Not worth talking about. How did you feel today went?”

“Brody is my biggest competition.”

“He’s your only competition, but I think you’re better,” she said, and her words soothed me.

“He’s got the advantage of having played with a lot of the guys already.”

“Mark will take that into consideration. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” I felt too keyed up. I checked my watch. It was just past ten. “I think I’m going for a walk before curfew.”

“You should be sleeping.”

“I will. I just need to move.”

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow is a big day. I’ll try to get there in the morning.”

I didn’t want our talk to end. “You doing okay?”

She let out a long sigh. “I will be once this party is over with.”

“That bad?”

“It could be a lot better.”

Something in her voice told me it was much worse than she let on. “Hey. You okay?”

There was a long pause when I thought she might share, but then she said, “Don’t worry about me. You have enough worries. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

I struggled to think of something to say that would cheer her up, bolster her, fix whatever made her sound so sad. “You know what?”

“What?”

I shut my eyes. I wanted to tell her how fearless she was and how I thought she could handle anything, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was, “You’re Krista fucking Taylor. Don’t forget that.”

Another interminable pause before she finally spoke in a quiet voice. “Thanks, Levi.”

Then she hung up.


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