Page 54 of Sexting the Coach
When it doesn’t, I pull back, step to the side, and flash my key card against the pad as Elsie says, a touch sarcastically, “Yeah, I tried that.”
The keypad doesn’t even flash red—it does nothing at all.
“That’s not good,” I mutter. Together, we walk around the arena, moving from door to door, finding every way out shut. A muted sense of claustrophobia starts to grow in my chest, but Elsie is clearly starting to freak out, so I keep my own shit under control.
“What would happen if we pulled the fire alarm?” Elsie asks, starting to sound more and more panicked. Her cheeks are flushed, baby hairs framing her face, frizzy. “Or if there actually is a fire? Are we going to burn alive in here?”
“Hey,” I put a hand on her shoulder, meeting her eyes. “Deep breath. We’re okay. Just don’tstarta fire, and we should be good.”
She holds my gaze for a second, then forces a breathy laugh. “There go my plans for the night.”
I make her sit on a bench while I step to the side and pull out my phone, thumbing through my contacts. One by one, I make calls until I find someone who knows what’s going on.
“It was in the company-wide email,” Karlee Meyer says, and though I can’t see her, I can imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose. “System update tonight. Everyone was supposed to be out by four.”
I glance over at Elsie. Apparently I’m not the only one who just skims those emails.
Karlee grumbles more, bemoans her perfect Friday night off, then promises to send someone over from the security company to let us out. There are still guys on the property.
Ten minutes later, a security guard arrives on the other side of the doors, but he can’t get them open, either. A specialist from the security systems IT team is called.
“How long do you think this is going to take?” Elsie asks, shifting her weight side to side.
I glance at her, “Why? You got a hot date?”
“Actually,” she says, a flash of heat crossing her face. “Yeah. I mean, I thought I did.”
The sound of that goes right to my cock. I shift, and the longer our gazes hold, the more I’m thinking about where in this building is going to be the best spot to get her clothes off.
At that moment, my phone rings.
“Karlee,” I say, but she cuts me off.
“Okay, I just got word from the systems IT team that you’re not going to get out of there for a few hours,” she says, the words coming quickly and on a single breath out, turning hard.“Let this be your reminder thatevery inchof that arena is covered in cameras. Don’t you dare make me—or anyone else—see something that I don’t want to. Is that clear?”
Elsie lets out a choked little laugh, and I realize Karlee’s voice is loud enough that she can hear her, even without the phone on speaker.
“That’s clear,” I say, ending the call a minute later and meeting Elsie’s eyes again.
“Too bad,” she whispers, tilting her head. “I guess we’ll just have to find something else to do with ourselves.”
“You know,” I say, as Elsie and I take the ice together. “I’m pretty sure my PT forbade me from getting on the ice.”
“She’s giving temporary permission,” Elsie says, pushing off gracefully and gliding in front of me, looking backward over her shoulder. “Just this once. And you need to be careful. Nothing too drastic.”
“Noted.”
At first, after the call with Karlee, Elsie and I had gone up to my office to wait it out, but that quickly proved to be too difficult, and she suggested we come down to the ice instead, to literally “cool off.”
I don’t want to cool off. Since this morning—fuck, since the first moment I saw her months ago—I’ve been able to think about nothing else.
But Karlee’s voice was still ringing in my head. And the last thing I need is to piss off the GM again. So here I am, on the ice, trying not to think filthy thoughts about the woman skating in front of me.
For the first time in a while, it starts to become surprisingly easy.
“Hey,” I say, pushing a little harder than I should to come shoulder-to-shoulder with her. “You’regood.”
Elsie shoots me a smug grin, “Really, Weston? Are you telling me you didn’t Google me yet?”
