Twisted Collide: The new sports romance in the Redville Saints series
Twisted Collide: Chapter 14

Today is my first day working with the players.

Sure, I’ve been working for the team for the past month, but since there’s been no official practice, my sperm donor thought it would be a good idea for me to rotate positions within the organization. That way, I could experience different jobs, and when my internship ended, I’d have a better grasp of what I wanted to do with my life.

The mailroom was fun. Accounting, not so much. Now, I’m working at the practice facility in a floater position until the season starts in three weeks.

Things are about to get real.

I’m going to see Dane again.

Something will go wrong. It always does.

Whenever I start something new, it’s usually awful. I’ve never gotten lucky enough to have things go right. All of my life, I’ve been destined for first-day failure.

Like when I started high school. I wore two different shoes to school, and if that wasn’t bad enough, my shirt was inside out. Double oops.

Then there was the time I started college and fell flat on my face in the middle of campus.

Of course, a group of hot frat boys were all watching. While I was mortified, I wouldn’t let them know, so instead, I stood, back straight, and bowed.

It was legendary.

So today, while I know I’m destined for something awful to happen, the plan is to wear the embarrassment with pride.

I take a step inside the practice facility, and I’m instantly met with the smell of ice. I never realized ice had a scent, but it does. It smells crisp and cool and like Christmas morning.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but certainly not this. Maybe stinky jerseys and sweat—something to make me hate hockey even more.

Eventually, after they play, I’m sure that will linger in the air, but for now, I close my eyes and imagine a big cup of hot cocoa and sigh.

That would be nice right now because this place is freezing despite the warm air outside.

Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s an ice rink, after all.

I wonder what I’ll be made to do today. I was informed by Laurie, the woman who’s technically my boss, that I’ll be doing errands for now, but what does that even mean?

Will I be carrying smelly jerseys around? Or maybe I’ll have to clean the skates.

No, that seems like a job for someone who knows what they’re doing.

“Hey! Coach’s kid,” some player shouts, and I narrow my eyes, trying to see if I can figure out which one called out to me.

When my attempts end up fruitless, a grunt breaks from my lips.

“Over here,” he calls again, waving his hand in the air, and I head toward him.

I lift my brow. “Coach’s kid? Seriously?”

“Wow. That’s a whole lot of attitude for an intern.” He chuckles.

“What can I do for you—”

“Hudson,” he says, cutting me off. Ah, the player. Coach, aka sperm donor, aka Dad, warned me about him.

Placing my hands on my shirt, I push the material down. “Hudson, what can I do for you?”

He eyes me up and down before returning his gaze to my lips. “Got any water?”

I tilt my head. “Am I a water girl?”

He smirks, lifting his shoulders. “You might be.”

I pinch my lips together while I try to think of a witty rebuttal, but I’m saved by another voice. One I know far too well.

“Leave the girl alone.” Dane’s husky tone makes my knees feel weak, but then his words filter in through my brain, and my stomach turns.

The girl.

He knows just how to rile me up. I’m so damn sick of him acting as though I’m a fucking child. I’m a grown-ass woman. One who certainly caught his attention.

If steam could come out of my ears, it would.

He wants to be an ass, fine, but that just means I’ll have to come up with my own brand of torture.

My lips tip into a smile. This will be fun.

“It’s Josie. Or Josephine. Not ‘the girl.’” I turn my attention back to Hudson, batting my eyelashes and laying it on real thick. “Coming right up, Hudson.” I draw out his name seductively, knowing full well it will piss off Dane. I look at Hudson. “Anything else?”

“I’m good. What about you, Dane? You good?”

“I’m fine,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

“Doesn’t seem that way.” I smile broadly. “You seem awfully tense. Or maybe . . . constipated?”

Hudson barks a laugh. “She’s got you there.”

“Cute,” he mocks before turning toward Hudson. “I said I’m fine.”

“Very well. I’ll be back.” I walk off in the opposite direction, making sure to swing my ass and give the boys a view.

There. Take that.

One point to me. Once I’m in the back, I replace the stash of water and then return. The moment Hudson sees me, he smirks, skating over to where I am. I walk to the edge of the ice and hand him the bottle.

From the corner of my eye, I watch as Dane skates around the ice.

He is so gorgeous. No one should be that handsome.

With his helmet on, I can’t see his hair, but I can see his jawline. Damn, he’s like a Greek god.

Poseidon.

Technically, Boreas is the god of ice, but Dane Sinclair is not cruel enough for that moniker. No, I prefer Poseidon, grumpy by nature but not outright evil. Plus, he has a trident.

Too bad he’s off-limits and an ass.

Sperm donor’s number one rule. No dating my daughter. Okay, he didn’t say date. He said no anything with my daughter. A wide net was thrown on what these guys can’t do with me.

I stare ahead, wondering if there’s any way around that rule, when I hear Laurie.

“Josie! Need help.”

“Coming,” I shout back, pulling my gaze away from the ice and ignoring Hudson.

I head to where Laurie is, and she’s holding a stack of towels.

“We’re short-staffed, and the guy who usually puts these in the locker room isn’t here.” She reaches out, and I raise my arms to grab them. “Do me a favor and bring these to the locker room; it’s empty now, so it’s a good time.”

I nod and head toward the locker room of the training facility. Looking around, I clock a table and place them down on it. I’m not sure where they’re supposed to go, but seeing as this isn’t actually my job, it will do.

“That’s not where they go.” Dane’s gravelly voice takes me by surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

What is he doing here? Wasn’t he just skating on the ice?

My heart rattles in my chest. Did he come here for me? I can feel the apple of my cheeks warming at the thought.

“That’s none of your business,” he practically growls.

“Your personality, maybe?”

His head tips in question.

“That’s what you must be looking for since you obviously can’t replace it.”

Nothing. Not a smile. Not a laugh. This man is wound up tighter than a broken clock.

The night I spent with him, he was moody, grumpy even, but this is next level.

Is it me? My presence.

No.

This is more. This is him, but for a second that night, he wasn’t like this.

God, he was beautiful when he laughed.

An idea pops into my head, something to make him smile.

I hop up onto the bench.

“What are you doing?”

“Since I can’t do this job right, I guess it’s back to the tightrope,” I tell him while I place one foot in front of the other, moving slowly. I try to balance. It’s a narrow bench, and I can feel myself slipping.

“Stop.”

“No. Since the last time I saw you, I’ve done research. This is my calling. If you walk in a straight line—”

“You’re going to fall.”

“Then help me,” I challenge.

“No.”

I place my hands out by my side. My foot slips a little, but I don’t have to worry about falling because Dane crosses the small space with lightning-fast reflexes.

His one hand wraps around my upper arm, while his other holds my waist.

I turn my head, and my pulse accelerates.

Our faces are so close that I can see the small ring of green surrounding his blue eyes.

Wow.

I never noticed that before, but how could I? It was dark that night.

“Get down,” he grits out, his jaw locking after.

“Lighten up, hockey. I’m just having fun.”

“That’s your problem. You can’t take anything seriously. You’re acting like a child.”

I blink, and my mouth parts on a quick inhale of breath.

The only person in my life who has ever had the ability to make me feel small is my mom, yet here’s Dane, doing a damn good job of it.

I hop off and then scurry away. Not wanting him to see the embarrassment I’m trying desperately to hide.

Once out in the hall, I let out a breath, slumping against the wall and trying to hold back the tears welling in my eyes. It’s not about him; it’s about me. About this place and everything it stands for.

I’m overwhelmed and out of my element without one person to confide in. And the only person who could’ve fit that bill is bound and determined to be a giant asshole.

Well, good for him. He wins. I’ll keep my damn space.