Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(38)

The fact was that the more time she spent during the deed thinking about how to have an orgasm or telling herself that she should have had one by now, the further away her climax felt. So she just let it go, figuring that she had a shy clit that only wanted to play when she was by herself.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Zara protested, without really putting her heart into it. “It just means I probably should have had more sex with my other boyfriends while I was still half asleep so that my brain would stop spinning and I could actually experience the event instead of feeling like I was giving a barely listened-to guided tour in hopes of maybe getting a tip in the end.”

“So that’s what you’re going with?” Gemma raised an eyebrow and tilted her chin down. “Hazy brain equals orgasms when you’ve never had one with other people before? Girl, forget your history of solo-only orgasms, if a dude is willing to get you over without even getting a handie, then you’ve found a keeper. That kind of giving is not found in a majority of the male population.”

“We’re not really dating,” Zara said, not wanting to deal with the rest of that statement because really, what woman who was dating in today’s world didn’t deal with selfish lovers? “It’s just a means to an end for both of us. Don’t you have other friends you can pester about getting into relationships with people with whom they are not compatible?”

Gemma let out a loud cackle of a laugh that startled Anchovy from his midafternoon nap. “No one else who is dating Caleb Stuckey, first of his name, destroyer of vagina cobwebs, and bequeather of non-solo orgasms.”

“You are so weird,” Zara said with a laugh.

Her bestie shrugged and lifted her mug of tea in a toast. “And that’s why you love me.”

“True.” She clinked her mug against Gemma’s and snuck a peek at her own phone on the counter.

There were eight text message alerts she’d been pretending weren’t there. She didn’t need to hit the text icon to know who they were from, but she wished she knew what in the hell to say to him.

…

“Stuckey,” Coach Peppers yelled. “Get in my office.”

Caleb heard Coach even though he had in his earbuds so he could listen to the video of Zara’s dad interviewing her about the last date. He’d been waiting for a hint that Anchovy had eaten her phone or that she’d been under a tight work deadline and that was why she hadn’t texted him back beyond a couple of emojis—whatever the fuck they were supposed to mean. Of course, he didn’t really care that she was blowing him off. Whatever he’d been dumb enough to think was maybe a possibility obviously wasn’t. She’d set him straight on that by ignoring his messages.

He pocketed his earbuds and his phone, then pulled on his shirt and headed into the coach’s office. Surprising no one, Coach wasn’t alone. Zach Blackburn lounged against the window ledge, his tatted-up arms crossed and the eyebrow piercing he took out for games and practices back in place. The team captain looked every bit like a man about to take a chunk out of whoever pissed him off that day, which was pretty much Blackburn’s usual expression.

Caleb stepped farther inside Coach’s office. “You wanted me?”

“Sit down,” Peppers said without looking up from his computer screen.

That didn’t bode well. Usually, Coach just had little chats with his players in the locker room while he drank coffee spiked with enough sugar and milk to give only the barest hint of what it had been originally. Caleb went for an air of cocky confidence, but on the inside, he was that too-skinny kid with buck teeth in front of the classroom trying to read from the assigned chapter.

“Do you know why you’re here in this facility and wearing that team logo?” Peppers jerked his chin toward the Ice Knights logo on Caleb’s T-shirt.

“To play hockey,” he said, not understanding where this was going but not liking it.

“Damn straight.” Coach leaned forward, propping his elbows on his desk. “And what else?”

Beads of sweat popped out at the base of his skull, and he tapped his fingers on his thigh, an old trick his mom had taught him to stay grounded when anxiety started to wind up in his belly. “To be a team player.”

“Just a player or a leader?” Blackburn asked, his tone gruff and his expression inscrutable beyond his perma-glare.

He straightened in the guest chair. “A leader.”

“Good, because that’s what I see when I look at you, which is why your fuckup in the off-season hurt us so badly.” Peppers exhaled a harsh breath in obvious frustration. “The new guys look up to you. The old guys want to play with you. The fans love you. More importantly, the boys thought they could depend on you to show the team in a good light and not to cause distraction or disruption.”

“I know that.” Caleb couldn’t talk for other organizations, but with the Ice Knights, there was a sense of team that went beyond the logo on his jersey. Maybe it was because they’d fought their way out of the standings basement together, and none of them wanted to go back into the never-could bracket. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

“Like let your mom take over your Bramble app so the front office wouldn’t trade you and Petrov?” Blackburn asked.

“Petrov’s working his ass off.” The center had put in so many hours to get back to the game that he’d practically worked an eighty-two-game season already. “He deserves to play for the team he’s dreamed about being on since he was in juniors.”