The Hockey Captain I slept With is My Stepson

Chapter 8: How To Meet Trouble On Ice

RAE

A few days later, I walked into Wondra TV.

“Tallulah, get off my phone,” I told my baby cousin, fishing for my entry pass in my bag, my cell trapped between my shoulder and my ear.

“My followers are dying for an interview with the cake lady—“

“I already gave you my answer the other eight times you asked.” I swiped the ID, hurrying for the elevator because I was late for my meeting with Jameson.

Now you’d probably be wondering why I was here and not on a honeymoon getaway with my billionaire husband.

He left.

Jason’s chauffeur took me home after the wedding and he never showed up. I’ve been holed up in his mansion for days, a sea of maids at my disposal and everything else I needed but him.

I had hoped he had meant it when he said he forgave me. I was even anticipating our wedding night and all the conversations we’d have as promised.

But he wasn’t picking my calls. The staff at home knew nothing. After a week, I gave up and called the office.

My job was still the only thing that was consistent, and it felt like I was about to jeopardize this deal with Jameson despite the month’s leave the office had given me.

“Please, Rae. I need this traction on my page, and your fall video practically blew up. This could turn you into a celebrity—“

“Tallulah,” I warned, holding the phone to my ear now I was on the lift.

“It’s YouTube we’re talking about!”

“Don’t you have school?”

“Good lord, I can’t deal with you millennials.” I imagined her rolling her eyes.

“Hey, I’m not that old.” The elevator stopped for Jennifer f*****g West and my joy vanished. I shifted to the far end, as if avoiding a plague. “Fine. I’ll do a Q&A session, but my face won’t be shown. And ten questions only.”

My fall video had gone viral, courtesy of Tallulah and her large number of subscribers. Everyone at the office and at least one million others had seen me crash into my wedding cake.

I hated it. I was self-conscious about being recognized while walking on the street or anywhere else. People could be mean.

“Great! But our school’s hockey team is having their biggest game of the season tonight. Can we fix this for tomorrow morning? I’ll come to auntie’s house.”

“I have work.”

“Rae,” she whined immediately. “I can’t miss watching our hot captain kick ass, you must understand that it’s important to my brain development. Please create time for me and your fans tomorrow morning.”

Jennifer snorted next to me and I glared.

“Well, some people would never understand fame, but I do. Anything for my lovely fans,” I said, raising my voice, throwing Jennifer a petty smile.

The elevator dinged open and she stormed out in her ridiculous four inch heels. I punched the air after her, then lurched for the doors when they unexpectedly started closing, throwing my body in between to reverse it because my hands were full.

I tossed my purse on my desk and practically ran to the meeting room.

I poked my head in before walking in.

Mandy gave me a look from where she sat on the long table, mouthing something like a threat afterwards. I did same, but the boss turned to me.

“Your favourite!” I told Jameson with a wide smile, sliding the steaming paper cup of coffee over to his front, glancing at Mandy again for help.

“Sit,” he said firmly.

“Thank you.”

We were up to five in the room. I was in the midst of department heads and even the head of programs—everyone important.

Months ago, this was a dream.

“Richmond High is on board with our new project.” Jameson leaned back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest. “We’ve contacted Netflix, sss, and so many other streaming platforms. This is our big announcement to the world that we’ve diversified. Rachel?”

My fingers tapped the table nervously. “Sir?”

“You provide the content, Mandy handles the rest. Listen, this docu series must be a global hit.”

“Easier said than done, Jameson. The young captain in question doesn’t want to do this,” Mandy sighed, and everyone’s mood changed.

They appeared uneasy. “What? Are you serious?” I sat up slowly. “If he’s not going to do this, then there’s no point—“

“Convince him to work with us, Rachel,” the head of programs, Adele Baker, cut me off.

“The school board intends to pull him off the team if he doesn’t comply, but I fear he may not bite the bait. Without the star player, this won’t work,” she reasoned.

Before long, heads were nodding.

It was settled. The fate of this project not only rested in my hands, I had to perform miracles.

My dormant omega wolf was as ordinary as their human selves, but if I could hike in a snow storm in the thick of night, what’s convincing a kid to make the right choice for his future?

I drove all the way to Richmond High afterwards, juicy proposal in hand. The star player had to understand that this was an opportunity he couldn’t miss. His entire career could kick off even before his college degree and only a handful of athletes ever had that.

“Ms. Rosier!” Coach Stetson shook my hand eagerly on the hallway outside Richmond High’s hockey rink, his smile made of dollar bills.

The school board must have offered him some kind of perk if this project succeeded and turned them into one of the top high schools in the world. The statistics were deserving.

Now I just had to meet this captain and know what his deal was.

“Hey, coach. How’s it going?” I had my kit in one hand.

“The boys are getting reps in. Tonight is a big one.”

Tallulah had mentioned that. She was also a senior here at Richmond High and the leader of the cheerleading squad.

“Come.”

I nodded, following him. We stopped at the end of the enclosed pathway leading into the rink, watching the coordinated mess of a live hockey game. The gritty sounds of sticks scraping the ice, the puck sliding back and forth between teammates, players clashing. I watched hockey games a lot while growing up, so this wasn’t unfamiliar territory. I knew the rules.

“Woah!”

One of the players skated right for me and yanked my kit out of my hands.

The game immediately came to an end. I realized only then that I was alone, sticking out like a sore thumb. Coach had stepped out to take a phone call.

My eyes met the player’s through the helmet he had on. He was strikingly tall, filling out that jersey like a wall of muscle and not a high school athlete.

“You want this back?” He dangled my kit in the air carelessly and my heart skipped because I couldn’t afford my lens shattering again.

“Stop!” I shouted, making out the devilish smirk on his face.

“Make me.”