Page 20 of Until He Scores

“I bet.” Mack stopped at the bar. “Let me get you a drink. What are you having?”

“Can I get a beer?” A familiar voice asked from across the area.

I stared at Mack, curious what he’d setup, knowing full well who helped him. “I’m sticking with sweet tea. I have to drive back to Murfreesboro.”

“Hmm,” Mack muttered. “That’s too bad. I was hoping to introduce you to someone.”

The person I’d been drilling my gaze into turned around. The spit in my mouth went dry. My body tensed.Pope.Bang, bang, bang, my heart hit my ribs with each beat, echoing in my ears, drawing out everything around me, including Mack who continued to talk, even though I couldn’t look away from Pope.

He smirked, leaning back, showing off his impressive form and the myriad of tattoos covering his tanned flesh. I didn’t know if I was supposed to say hi or run away. Or once I said hi what came next.

Then as if the decision had been made, Pope moved. He pushed off the bar in a languid move that sent a thrill down my spine. His obsidian eyes clashed with mine and a vicious smirk pulled at his mouth. Pope oozed sex appeal and rage. Hehated me. I’d known that for longer than I’d played professional hockey. So, why was he walking right up to me?

“Thierry,” he snarled.

Before I could say anything or even form an apology, he was kissing me. Not some chaste kiss like we’d shared when we were fourteen and in my basement. No, this was cruel, filled with spite and tasted of sin and hunger. My dick throbbed, starved for attention as his tongue slashed at mine. Our teeth clashed. Our lips swelled. Used in such a way I knew for several hours afterward I’d feel his mouth upon mine and ache for him like I had for years after we’d gone separate ways.

Bastard.

“Now,” he whispered across my mouth before licking my bottom lip as his obsidian gaze locked on mine, “we’re even.”

He strode toward the exit without even a backward glance. Hate and fear and rejection sparked within me. My stomach soured. My heart squeezed as long dormant emotions threatened to spill over. A tingle of awareness slithered along my spine as the world around me slowly melted back into focus and several pairs of eyes stared in my general direction.

He’d made a scene. On purpose.

“I didn’t know,” Mack murmured. “I hadn’t even seen him until a few minutes before Mindy said you were here. Had I known he’d do that...”

I shook my head. “Not your fault. I deserved that.”

“Not in public you didn’t,” Mack said, anger snapping through his tone.

“I’d have wished it was in a private setting,” I agreed. “We both know Pope isn’t the private type.”

“Guess we all didn’t mature at the same rate,” Mack muttered, curling his lip. “I’m sorry, Thierry.”

“Don’t be,” I replied. “I’ll see you and your banging wife at the compound.” Maybe. Now I had second thoughts about going.

Mack snorted. “Fucking kids.”

The rest of dinner was spent talking about the game Thursday night and the upcoming games this season all the while images of Pope swirled within my mind to the point of distraction. Christopher asked if I was okay and I bobbed my head, assuring him I was just fine, even though I was anything but, and he should continue.

So, he did. I learned useful information from the rookie. Things I needed to know. Unlike the NHL who played games at least once a week, sometimes twice depending on the schedule, these guys could play three games in four days and sometimes back-to-back.

I also learned they’d been having issues in their defense since Rudiger, their right defensemen and part-time coach, left and headed for the PortlandThrashers. Having someone like me to coach them and find the right person to fit the position, was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I could do the job in my sleep, which meant I could coach up the person who earned the spot. A curse because as soon as theThunderbirdssaw their potential, the player would be snatched up and we’d be back to square one. The only solution I could come up with was to train all of them to play the positions, that way the team was covered should something happen.

When we left the restaurant, we went our separate ways with plans to meet up the next day for an early lunch, since we’d have a game to prepare for. It was strange playing in a facility that only held a few thousand people instead of an arena that could hold tens of thousands of fans.

This felt more intimate.

Like the players could engage with their fans more often.

What I tried and failed at was not thinking about the kiss during our meal. I couldn’t brush the moment off as revenge or pettiness. The hatred in Pope’s eyes. The disdain that leached offhim in noxious waves, sucked me under while turning me on. Beneath it all, he was still Pope. The guy I’d had masturbation fantasies about. The guy I’d been friends with until I wasn’t. He smelled of cigarette smoke and spicy cologne and looked like a model forVersace.

Damn him.

Damn him for coming back into my life when I didn’t have my head on straight and was still fucked up about Derrick and having my knee replaced. Any other time I’d have rolled with his antics and called him to clear the air and apologize. Instead, I stood there with people staring at me, feeling like a fool. Saying I was embarrassed was the least of my concern. Admitting how much I wished he’d have hate fucked me then and there, sent a bolt of shame slamming into my chest.

Why did I have to be so damn pathetic when it came to Pope?