Killian (On the Line #1) - Brenda Rothert Page 0,5
. . . uh, pardon my language, Ms. Stahl.”
“I’ll be blunt. I’ve got bigger balls than most of the men I know. Swear all you want around me, but do not ever dismiss me.”
The corners of his lips quirked up with amusement. “So I like to drink and fuck in my off time. I’m still the best damn player you’ve got. I suggest you meet with the guys who refuse to get in shape or learn how to fuckin’ skate.”
“Change starts at the top. The team has new ownership and a new coach. And you’re the team captain. I need you to stop behaving like a frat boy and start leading this team.”
A dark shadow of anger passed over his face. “Give me a team worth leading and I will. On the ice.”
“I’m not interested in having a team captain who gets in drunken brawls and whores around every night of the week. It’s toxic to the image of this team.”
“Well, I’m not allowing you to have a vice grip on my balls. I work hard on the ice, and I’ll be blunt right back. I like to fuck after games. Hockey brings out my primal side.”
His words made my skin feel flushed. I kept my expression all business, but I was secretly a little turned on by Killian. Not just because he was hot and intense, but also because he wasn’t intimidated by me. Once I asserted myself to a man, he usually backed down or ran scared. But Killian was different.
We stared at each other in a face off that felt like it lasted for several minutes. I cleared my throat and broke the silence, forcing myself to focus on the topic at hand. “Perhaps you’d be more comfortable if someone else was team captain,” I said.
He scoffed and arched his brows. “Perhaps not. This is my team, Ms. Stahl. You may have written a big check to call it yours, but in every way that matters, it’s mine. Lazy guys and all. Are you going to tell the four guys getting cut that they’re out of a job?”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms across my chest. “You’re waffling now? A few minutes ago you were all about making changes to the team.”
He stood up from his seat in front of me. Because he was several inches taller than me and about a foot wider, he was physically imposing.
“Don’t get me wrong, change needs to happen. But I’m not some asshole who enjoys it. The hard work to rebuild this team will take place on the ice. At long, grueling practices. On long, exhausting road trips where we sleep on a fuckin’ bus at night. Don’t think your presence in this room gives you the same investment in this team that I have.”
The tension between us was thick. His glare was dark and brooding. I’d pushed him too hard.
“Why don’t we revisit this in a few days?” I suggested. “Let’s take a breather.”
He didn’t even acknowledge my suggestion, instead turning for the door. As he reached for the handle, he looked back at me.
“Plenty of teams would love to have me. Rough edges, legal troubles and all. I’m here because I want to be, and that’s subject to change at any time.”
“I’ll be very sorry if it does change,” I admitted. “But I’d rather own a losing team than one with players who act like careless boys instead of professional athletes. Our attendance at games is dramatically down. Our fans need players they can look up to.”
I saw the tense set of his jaw from across the room. He didn’t meet my eyes again before he walked out the door and closed it behind him.
My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t lose Killian. I’d lose Orion too, and they were the two most important people on this team.
I needed to step back and relax, and only one thing would do that for me. I grabbed my purse and phone from beneath my dilapidated makeshift desk and walked out the side door to my office. The condo I was leasing here in Fenway had a gym, and I’d be logging several miles on the treadmill before I was my cool, collected self again.
Killian
“I figured Calvert and Bertie were gone, but Grayson and Strauss surprised me,” Bennett said, peeling at the label on his beer bottle. He was kind of a sensitive guy, and he was still reeling from the news about our teammates who’d been cut