Twisted Collide: The new sports romance in the Redville Saints series
Twisted Collide: Chapter 20

For the life of me, I have no idea why I keep torturing myself by seeking Josephine out.

Last night, for example, going to dinner, yeah, that wasn’t my smartest idea. I need to put distance between us, but I replace myself doing the opposite instead.

The whole damn meal, she watched me, and I’m pretty sure Coach saw her doing it. Now I have to hope he didn’t notice anything because fuck. I couldn’t handle that shit right now.

“Dane.” Coach’s voice echoes through the practice facility the moment I walk in. He sounds pissed. Yep. I’m screwed. He noticed.

Here it comes, the inevitable. I’m about to get my ass handed to me.

“What?” I ask him as I move closer to where he’s standing.

“You missed the interview you had scheduled.”

Oh, thank fuck. This has nothing to do with Josephine.

I lift a brow at him. “What are you talking about?”

“This morning. You were supposed to talk to the local paper about the charity event the team is throwing.”

“I didn’t miss it.” Fuck, did I?

I mentally try to remember what I had today, but I’m barely functioning with Molly away.

After winning the Cup, followed by one to many celebrations, I thought it would be a good idea to send Molly on an all-expense paid trip to Europe. I was wrong.

“You did.” His voice is full of reproach, and I know I messed up.

“With Molly gone . . .”

“Don’t even say it. I hired you a temp while she’s away for the summer, and you fired her on day one.”

“I’ll make sure—”

“Dane, you also fired the second one.” Well, when he puts it that way, he might have a point, but I had my reasons. I just need to tell him.

“She fucked up my—”

“Again, stop. I understand you rely heavily on Molly, but if she’s not going to be here, you need to have someone manage you, and if you’re going to fire every person who comes into the room, we’ll keep having issues.”

“I’m not going to fire every single person.” As the words leave my mouth, I know it’s a lie. I will because no one can replace Molly. For the longest time, it’s always just been us, which is why I’m struggling now.

After my parents died, I fought for custody of her. She was only eleven, and I was eighteen, a senior in high school.

My uncle, the scumbag who I wouldn’t let watch my fish, wanted to take custody, probably because of my parents’ estate and the money he would be in control of if he raised her, but I fought tooth and nail. Since then, it’s been us against the world.

Molly is the reason I live in Redville. We grew up here, so when the time came to play for the NHL, and she was still in school, it was a no-brainer.

The moment she graduated, she started to manage my life. Again, it was her and me against the world.

So, as much as it sucks for her to be gone for the next month, she deserves the three months I gave her to travel.

Unfortunately, it also means I’m lost without her.

“Well, this shit has to stop. And I have the perfect solution.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about, and if he means bringing Molly home, that’s not going to fly.

“Laurie!” he shouts.

“Yeah, Coach,” I hear her shout back, head peeking around the corner.

“Bring Josie here.”

Shit. Wherever this is going, I don’t like it. This is a bad idea, and he hasn’t even said what the idea is.

“Sure thing.” She offers a toothy smile, one that looks like more of a grimace than anything else.

My back is rigid as I wait, and fuck is my jaw tight. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was about to lose my shit just at the concept of what I fear is about to come out of his mouth.

Anything that puts Josephine in the same room as me is a bad idea.

Horrible.

A few seconds pass, and then she comes bouncing along.

She looks young today. Still beautiful, but in an innocent way.

Something I know she is not.

That’s what makes being near her so hard. She’s temptation. The sweetest sin.

Her long blond hair, normally down, is pulled up into a high ponytail, and she’s wearing black leggings and a skintight cropped white T-shirt.

How her father allows her to walk around all these men in that outfit is beside me.

It’s practically indecent with the way her nipples pebble under the thin material from the cold.

And don’t get me started on the skin of her flat stomach.

She’s walking fast, practically jogging here, and her breasts bounce with the movement.

Is she even wearing a bra?

If my jaw was tight before, now it feels like it might snap in half from how tightly I’m grinding my teeth.

“You needed me, Coach?”

For a second, I’m taken aback. Coach? Does she not refer to him as Dad? I scour my brain, trying to remember if I’ve ever heard her say it.

I’ve tried to avoid her as much as possible, and ninety percent of the time I’ve seen her, he hasn’t been around. But now that I think of it, she didn’t call him Dad at dinner either.

And now I’m certain that she hasn’t ever called him Dad. I know there’s a story there, and while I wonder what it is, I won’t ask. I told him the first night that it wasn’t my business, and I intend to stick to that.

“Please feel free to say no to what I’m going to ask you; you are in no way obligated to say yes, of course. While your job here is as an intern, this will fall a little outside the parameters I set.”

“Okay . . .” She’s clearly confused.

While I’m not confused about what he’s going to say, and hell to the no am I going to allow this, what I am confused about is why he talks to her like this. Like he doesn’t know her at all. Like she hates him. Like it’s a huge imposition to even speak to him, and he’s treading carefully.

I know I shouldn’t care, but I replace I want to know everything more and more by the second.

No, you don’t.

Despite my inner voice telling me I don’t, I do, and it pisses me the fuck off.

“I was wondering if you could spend the next few weeks before the season starts helping Dane out.” He stops for a second to watch her. When she doesn’t say or do anything, he nods and then continues. “Dane’s sister, Molly, handles everything for Dane.”

“She’s his assistant?”

“More like life manager,” he corrects, and I have to hand it to him. That title is the most accurate description of Molly. Life manager and keeper of sanity works too. “Molly is away for another month, and Dane here needs someone to help him. Of course, I would understand if you wanted to say no. It’s not exactly the experience you came here for—”

“Yes.” She cuts in.

Fuck.

What the hell is she up to?

Clearly, she’s out to make my life hell, and can I blame her?

Not one bit.