Panther's Cage

TYLER

Kate. In all her beautiful glory, she stood before me and my new teammates. I choked on my Gatorade the moment she stepped into the Blades’ locker room.

She appeared to be the daughter of one of the owners. John Martin’s hand rested on her shoulder, urging her forward with a calming smile only a parent could have. What were the chances of that?

I’d slept with the daughter of the person who decided my career fate. Dumbass.

Head Coach Julian regarded her with warm affection. His loud voice, which could be terrifying at times, was now lighthearted and kind. “Boys, this is Kate Martin.

“As you all know, Richard Martin recently passed away. This is his beloved daughter Kate, who is now the new majority owner of the New York Blades.”

She’s the fucking owner? Oh, shit. And by the expression on her flawless face, I could tell she was just as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

Her blue eyes had widened, and I couldn’t help but notice that her long hair was messier than she probably liked it to be. I did that to her. I reminded myself with a smirk.

That woman was insatiable. She had rocked my world like never before, and I knew with conviction I had rocked hers—her screams, her gasps, the way she quivered beneath my touch.

I was getting a hard-on just thinking about it. Unfortunately, I knew that I’d never get the satisfaction of having her in my bed again. She owned the team I had recently signed a contract with.

I knew the Blades’ majority owner had died, but I hadn’t thought much of it. If the Blades weren’t such a good team, and if they hadn’t offered me 115 percent of my previous salary, I wouldn’t have signed with them.

Word around the hockey world was that the Blades’ general manager was a douche, and he looked like one.

He walked in behind Kate with eyes glued to her. An unwarranted pang of jealousy washed over me as I watched the way he gazed at her.

It was only after they spoke of their family relations that the jealousy subsided. Kate and her two uncles owned the team, and her cousin was the GM.

Kate stood before us, confidence pouring from her as she spoke of her legendary father. Dark locks of hair brushed her collarbone, contrasting with bright blue eyes that could light a darkened night.

I grew enthralled with the way her words spilled from her mouth, and then I just got mad, pissed even. She had lied to me, kind of. How could she not mention that she owned a goddamn hockey team?

My anger intensified as the realization sunk in further that I’d never have anything but a professional relationship with that girl, when all I wanted was to bring her home with me.

She wouldn’t make eye contact with me after we initially saw each other. My teammates looked on, watching her with appreciation. She was smart, I’d give her that, her words eloquent and measured.

Standing before her team, she was completely different from the girl I’d been having sex with for twelve hours straight the previous night.

We were animals in my bed, neither of us able to get enough of the other. The thought again fueled my anger. Was it irrational? Yes, probably.

She finished her speech, and Hans, one of the best all-time defensemen, walked up to her and swung her around. Her smile brightened, and they spoke like they’d known each other forever.

She walked around to chat with some other players, looking comfortable in her own skin. She looked at home in that environment.

We had a game that night, my third one since joining the Blades. I wanted to snag her alone before the game but was nervous it would just rile me up and I’d play shitty.

Seeing her walking toward me, I had a split second to decide.

Luckily, Mathieu, the left wing for my line, held out a hand to introduce himself. She spun to talk to him, paying her attention to him and laughing. I wanted to know what they were talking about.

Wait, no I don’t. I don’t care what she does. ~No matter how hard I was trying to convince myself of that, it wasn’t working.

I stood up, threw my jersey on, and made my way past her and Mathieu, attempting to avoid eye contact with her. Unfortunately, she looked up at me through her lashes, forcing me to catch my breath.

A faint pink circle marked her skin just below the collarbone, thanks to my mouth. Her lips in a full pout left me with visuals from last night. Damn her.

Catching my reaction, she diplomatically nodded at me. I rushed past her and Mathieu.

I shook hands with the other owners before leaving the locker room. A few other players were wandering in the halls, and I followed them to the rink.

Chris, a forward, and Jaromir, our goalie, kept me distracted from Kate momentarily. They pumped me up for our game against Dallas that night, and the energy buzzed under my skin.

“I’m dropping gloves tonight,” Chris said, and I wasn’t surprised to hear that, considering he’d played for Dallas before coming to New York. I agreed, wanting to drop gloves myself.

I could use getting some of the misguided anger out of my system. I got pissed when my teammates brought my thoughts back to Kate, discussing her speech and how she was just like her father.

“She’s fine as hell,” Chris added, flinging his long blonde hair back from his face. He and Jaromir bumped their fists, while Chris looked at me expectantly.

I shrugged. “Yeah. She’s cute, I guess.”

The two guys looked at me like I was insane. They’d presumed I’d go crazy over Kate, given my reputation for partying and my notorious nightlife with the ladies.

Eighty-five percent of it was made up, but it didn’t bother me if people thought I spent all my free time getting drunk and having fun.

Chris stopped walking, tapping his stick on the tile floor. “She’s not cute, dude,” he said.

“Cute is a little sister.” Chris looked around, letting his boyish charm spread across his face before leaning in closer to Jaromir and me. “She didn’t have a bra on under that shirt.

“That’s pretty ballsy walking into a locker room full of hockey players.”

I hadn’t even noticed, and I hated that Chris had. If she wasn’t wearing a bra, then that meant it was at my apartment. I smiled to myself.

Chris continued blabbing about Kate. “I had a hard time concentrating.”

Glaring at him, I grumbled, “You sound obsessed.”

He turned to me and raised his brow. “What’s your problem? Your vagina too sensitive?”

“Fuck you.”

Jaromir laughed at us, his dark shoulder-length curls bouncing. Chris continued on like I hadn’t said a thing. “If she’s anything like her father, she’ll actually hang out with us. He loved us, man.

“It’s a shame you didn’t come here sooner.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I wish I could have.”

I felt like I’d been slapped. Since Kate had walked into that locker room, I’d been thinking about my night with her. She had just lost her dad, and all I cared about were my own issues.

I needed to give her my condolences after the game, even if I didn’t want to speak to her just yet.

We stepped on the ice, and I was finally at ease. The ice was my home; I’d been playing hockey since I was four years of age and skating since two.

More often than not, hockey was the only thing that was right in my world. I wasn’t particularly good at anything else. But when it came to hockey, I was a showstopper.

I was one of the most sought-after players in the league, and being young helped with that. At only twenty-three years of age, I had the stamina that the older players were beginning to lose.

We drifted around the ice, and I mentally punched myself in the face when my eyes continued to drift toward the owner’s box. I wanted a glimpse of Kate, just one.

I wasn’t sure why I wanted to see her, but for some reason, I needed to know what she was thinking.

The game began, sweat dripping from my forehead as we darted through the ice. Determined to prove the Blades right for signing me, I played harder than I’d ever before.

There was a small chance I was playing for Kate to see, but I pretended she had nothing to do with my performance that night.

I could take my frustration out on the opposing team’s players. I used all my might to check countless guys into the boards.

I was a clean player, never liking the dirty ones; so I made a point to not let my anger force me to do something uncalled for during the game.

While on the bench, the second line was out again, and I squirted water all over my face. My heart pumped hard, the way it always did during a game.

My fists pounded with my teammates’ as we scored another goal. The score was 3-1 by the end of the second period.

In the locker room, Coach applauded our performance but still pointed out where we needed to improve.

As we returned to the ice, I bent my knees. Being a center, I stood facing my opponent, waiting for the referee to drop the puck. I won the face-off and tapped the puck behind me.

For whatever reason, once we were in Dallas’ zone, I looked up again to find Kate. She was standing pressed against the glass, hands covering her mouth in excitement.

Checking her out got me slammed against the boards. I quickly pushed away from it and continued to play, letting Kate leave my headspace. Kind of.

Dallas scored in the third period, but the game ended with us winning with a score of 3-2. It was a close game, our talent evenly matched.

I was happy my first week with my new team had culminated in another win. And I had scored two of our points that night.

I spoke with a reporter for a few minutes about my goals, then we showered in the locker room, but only after Coach pointed out all of our flaws again.

Fred and John walked in offering handshakes and praises for our win. The Blades were known for their family ownership.

I had played with teams in the past where you never saw the owners or the owner was just a large corporation.

But the way the players interacted with Kate’s uncles, I knew they were actively involved in everything. They seemed to truly enjoy the game of hockey and not see it as a mere business affair.

I had expected Kate to walk in with them, but she was nowhere to be found. For a moment, I thought about asking her uncles where she was, but I knew that would sound creepy.

Maybe once my anger had settled, I could just call her instead of searching for her like a stalker.

I walked with some of my teammates out to the private parking lot and saw Kate leaning against a black Suburban. Her arms were crossed across her chest, and anger glinted in her gorgeous eyes, disappearing soon as we approached.

“Kate!” Jaromir yelled. She strode up to him and hugged him. I didn’t miss the dirty look she shot in my direction during that hug, but when she pulled away from him, she was all smiles again.

“There’s no one else who could fill your dad’s shoes like you,” he said to her. “We’re extremely happy to have you back.” Jaromir’s Czech accent laced his every word.

“You have no idea how happy I am to be back,” she responded. “I couldn’t wait to see you and Hans again.”

She chatted with Jaromir for a few more minutes, refusing to make eye contact with me. I thought about walking away from the group and jumping into my car to leave, but I knew I’d regret it later.

“It was wonderful talking to you guys,” Kate said. “If you’d excuse us, I’d like to have a word with our fierce new player, Mr. Carlson.”

My teammates said their goodbyes, nodded to her, and tapped me on the shoulder. Chris wiggled his eyebrows at me after turning around. Considering the guy was practically in love with her, I wasn’t surprised.

We stood in silence, glaring at each other. Each of us was pissed off about something, yet neither of us wanted to be the first to speak.