Page 22 of Ice Wolf
“If we need to, that’s what will happen.Ifyou want to stay on this team.” The coach barely had any inflection in his voice. That’s how angry he was.
“Think of this as a reboot,” Jonathan said.
“The sponsors could pull back on cancelling the sponsorships if the news goes away,” Carmine added.
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
The coach merely looked away. “Evidently, you do.”
I studied Mr. Weathers and couldn’t help but wonder how much the man was being paid to control my life. “Who is this girl, just another puck bunny?”
Mr. Weathers bristled and for the first time during the meeting, he took a step forward. While not as tall as I was, his presence was impressive. Obviously, the man was a powerhouse in his industry. His eyes flashed and while he remained clam, there was conviction behind his voice.
“She’s my daughter and I assure you, Mr. Masters, she’s a professional. If you so much as touch her inappropriately, torment her, or otherwise try and manipulate her reputation, I will personally be responsible for destroying what’s left of your career.”
There was such a challenge in the man’s demeanor that I found myself eager to take it on like I had every other one I’d faced in my life. I grinned, shrugging my shoulders. “I assure you I’ll be a gentleman. Why not do this? What could it hurt?” I was finished with playing their games. Sure, I’d need to curtail certain actions, but the girl wasn’t going to be glued to my side. Maybe if I made her hate me, she’d become disinterested.
“So you’re committed to making this go away?” the coach threw out, still testing me.
“Sure. Why not? I’ll be a good little boy while winning you the next championship. After I do, I plan on renegotiating my contract.”
CHAPTER 7
Saint
A beautiful woman.
That’s what I needed in my life.
I laughed to myself. I could have my pick of a thousand women who looked good in photographs but had zero substance.
Bor-ring.
Maybe my PR girl was a princess in disguise. Perhaps she looked like the intoxicatingly sexy woman I’d met and kissed in the bar. I don’t know why, but my thoughts had drifted to the mystery woman several times over the past few days. While we’d been in dim lighting, I’d taken in every detail of her voluptuous body.
Plus, I’d gathered a whiff of her fury at my sudden advance. If she’d had a couple of seconds longer before we’d been interrupted, she would have slapped me across the face.
Or maybe kicked me in the balls.
Who didn’t adore a girl with spunk?
One boon about being a shifter was my keen eyesight. Not only did I have perfect vision, but I could also see clearly in the dark. When I’d stared into the mystery girl’s eyes, I’d been captivated. Some might call my reaction being hypnotized.
They were stunning, green like the rolling hills on a spring day after a fresh rain. Her irises were iridescent, flecks of gold and silver twinkling with intense emotion. The combination was memorable.
And I was obviously a horny toad. Contrary to popular belief, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten laid. Maybe that would defuse some unwanted aggravation.
I shifted in the seat, forced to adjust my cock. Just thinking about her made me hard.
What did the idiots on social media call this? A meet-cute? Grouchy was my middle name. There were more rules added to the shitty gig, a long list emailed to me after I’d walked out of the meeting.
Along with reminders about heavy drinking and drug use. When out in public, I had to appear as if the sun rose and set on this girl. I needed to dress well when going out, even to grab a cup of coffee. I was not to talk to a single member of the press without her presence. And only if the list of questions had been approved.
The bastards were going to have her test my skills. What? Did they think they were kidding?
My personal favorite was that I could never mention the werewolf story. I had to pretend like it didn’t exist. A statementwas being drafted by the team’s owners that would be sent to every news agency. I could only imagine the doozy they’d come up with.
Maybe I should consider myself grateful they hadn’t asked me to remain in hiding other than being chauffeured to and from practices and games. I lived outside the city. I drove expensive cars, my one real passion. There were no comings or goings without being noticed. Maybe I’d be forced to wear a disguise.
