Listen to me talking about sets. Like I’m some headliner instead of tipsy Bristol sounding like a bag of dying cats.
The intensity of his green stare had me stumbling back a step as I continued to sing the words to a song I had memorized, eliminating the need for the prompter screen.
His attention was locked on me, eyes roving my body with a hungry gaze as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. When my eyes dipped to track the move, I noticed he was mouthing the words to the song I was singing.
The liquor in my bloodstream already had my cheeks flushed, but the way he looked at me made heat pool between my thighs, and I shimmied my hips a little more, seeking the fiction of the seam of my tight jeans.
There was no question he was interested, and through heavy-lidded eyes, I couldn’t deny he was attractive. A little older, perhaps, but not middle-aged. I could barely make out the tiniest lines around the cornersof his eyes in the dim lighting. His messy dark brown hair hung over his forehead, drawing more focus to those deep green eyes. And his short beard had me itching to feel it beneath my palms—or rather, between my legs.
It was apparent he took care of his body—muscles bunched beneath his gray T-shirt as he leaned forward, placing both forearms on his thighs, listening intently to my subpar performance. And those thighs? Damn, they were thick. I could practically feel their strength aiding his thrusts as he pounded into me from behind, from above—hell, I didn’t care about the position so long as he dominated me. It sure looked like he was up to the task.
As the song ended, I decided instantly that it would be my last of the evening.
Mr. Green Eyes might just be the palate cleanser I so desperately needed. It was long past time to remove the bad taste Nix had left in my mouth.
Chapter 4
Maddox
I’d initially declined whenBraxton texted that he and Dakota were going to Pipes later that night. But my interest was piqued when he said a friend of Dakota’s would be joining them. Then, I wondered what they’d told the friend about me and if they were setting me up on a blind date.
It was no secret among the Speed players that dating had been difficult for me since the injury. Far too many women in Indy knew who I was, and even though I was still an essential member of the Speed, I was staff now, not a player. The appeal of a coach was not the same. Those were just facts.
I spent the better part of the evening wavering—deciding to join them and grabbing my keys before changing my mind and convincing myself it was a bad idea. Tomorrow was media day, and I had to be on my A-game as the new head coach. If I weren’t, the press would eat me alive.
Not many head coaches came straight off the ice and into a position behind the bench. Most worked their way up the ranks—minor leagues, sometimes juniors—before assisting on a professional coaching staff. It took years of paying your dues. But in my case, the job had been simply handed to me with zero experience. Perhaps out of obligation to my yearsserved with the Speed—I would never know. All that mattered now was that I proved the doubters wrong, showing that I could lead this team. And not just lead them but guide them toward success. Something that had been hard to come by since the championship loss.
As I sat on my couch, the keys left discarded on the entryway table taunted me. I wondered about the girl waiting at the bar for my arrival. Was she interested in meeting me? Did she know about my past? Or was she unaware that our mutual friends were trying to set us up?
There was only one way to find out.
Fuck it.
Rising to my feet, I snatched the keys and slid behind the wheel of my two-door sports car, which had been a gift to myself when I’d signed my latest contract, not knowing that it would be my final one as a player. It was flashy, cherry red, and screamedI have a small dick and am trying to compensate,but it was my baby, and I wasn’t going to stop driving her because of what anyone else thought.
Pipes, the karaoke bar near Speed Arena, was where I’d picked up most of my hookups in Indy, so it seemed fitting for tonight. Except, if this girl was a friend of Dakota’s, I couldn’t just sleep with her one time and then pretend it never happened. And I wasn’t sure I had it in me to offer her more. I was still trying to wrap my head around my career coming to a screeching halt and needed to focus on my new position.
Shit. Maybe this was a terrible idea. I didn’t need to get laid that badly.
Sack up, man. She might not even want to sleep with you. You’re damaged goods, remember?
Parking outside the bar, I rested my head on the steering wheel.
Deep breath in . . . Deep breath out . . .
Confident I could handle whatever awaited inside, I pulled the door handle and stepped out of the car. Pushing through the entrance, I noticedthe place was nearly empty. It was Sunday night, after all. Most people had to work in the morning.
As I scanned the few occupied tables, it became clear that Braxton and Dakota hadn’t waited around while I’d wasted half the night deciding if I was going to join them. Considering I hadn’t texted to say I was on my way, I wasn’t surprised they’d left.
It was probably better this way. I could grab a drink in peace and then get a good night’s rest before the big day ahead.
Stepping up to the bar, I flagged down Larry, who owned the place. Recognition lit up his face, and he immediately grabbed a glass, filling it with my favorite beer from the tap.
A napkin was placed on the bar top as he offered me the drink. “Glad to see you’re not too good to hang out here with your recent change in status.”
I gave him a polite smile. I was still dealing with the circumstances that led to becoming the Speed’s newest head coach and didn’t want anyone to think I was ungrateful for being allowed to keep my hand in the game.
“Still getting used to it,” I replied.
