Page 40 of Off-Ice Misconduct
My stomach plummets. That would have been bad. Donor-losing bad. But my mind’s jumped to things it shouldn’t. Is he gonna ask me not to … whatever with Luke? We’re not dating or even fucking. Ugh, we’re not anything, but we’re not nothing either.
Actually, not true. He’s made it clear that I’m his. I can work with that. Luke’s not gonna stand for Coach keeping us apart, is he?
“I’m not a huge drinker, Coach. I’ll be more careful in the future.”
“I know you’re not, McKinnon, but it only takes one little mistake plus one vicious enemy.” Don’t I know it? “You need to fix this shit, and you need to do it fast—before the first exhibition game.”
That’s next weekend. Goddammit. If it were that fucking easy, I’d have done it by now. Not gonna talk back to Coach, though.
“On it, Coach.
“Now, my brother. This one’s harder?—”
“He was just keeping me in line,” I cut in.
“I saw the whole thing, McKinnon.” I get a funny look from him that I don’t think has anything to do with the way Luke took me to task. “I’m not in support. If it got out that you were fucking your professor, that could ruin us just as much as the rest of the fucking bullshit.”
I don’t die inside just yet, because I sense a but.
“But?” I say for him, raising a hopeful brow.
“But my fucking nuts are tied.”
“Um, what does that mean, sir?”
“So much bullshit that’s none of your fucking business. Let’s just say I’ll be actively trying to convince you otherwise, but my methods are limited.”
There’s only one reason for that, only one person on earth who could put a limit on what Coach can do. The butterflies smash around like ball bearings in my chest.
Daddy to the rescue.
“Wipe that smile off your face, McKinnon. I’m definitely gonna. Now, do we understand each other?”
“You’re understood, Coach.”
“Good, now get out of my face. Luke wants to see you.”
“He does?” I fight the smile this time, but just barely.
“Don’t get too excited. He isn’t happy.”
Is it weird that my first thought is, “even better”? Yeah, probably weird, so I keep that bit to myself.
It was as if he knew I was approaching the door. I was dragged inside, my ass shoved onto his desk, and that’s when he began poking around. That bear-paw hand gripped under my jaw, moving it from side to side.
He’s been staring at it for the last five seconds as I sit like a good boy, forgetting how to breathe.
“Off,” he says, tugging at my jacket. “Shirt too.”
If I thought for a second that he was getting me naked for sexy times, my shirt would already be on the floor. But he’s not. He’s looking for damage. It’s endearing as fuck, but he can’t see. Not that I wouldn’t love to see him go protectively ballistic, but he’s proven to be a mind reader, at least where I’m concerned. He’ll know I’m planning something as soon as he sets eyes on the fat bruises.
“Um, look. I’m fine, sir.”
“I don’t ask twice, princess. Daddy’s gonna decide that for himself. Do it,now.”
Words have never made me melt, but those just did. Fuck. I might do anything Daddy says at this point.
And I won’t point out that he kinda did just ask me twice, because I feel fucking special.
