His career was in Bacter’s hands. If he kept messing up, all Bacter had to do was say he wanted someone else, and he would be back in Florida on the Assassins farm team, something he didn’t want. He loved his team. Adler, Titov, Lucas Brooks, and Anderson were his friends. Real friends. He hadn’t felt like he was at home until meeting them. He was also getting used to Nashville, and he was getting settled into his condo. Things were good.
And last night they had gotten a whole lot better. Except for the fact that the first time he had sex in months, the girl he woke up next to shot out of the room faster than a puck being shot into a goal. It shouldn’t be affecting him like this, but it was really fucking with his head. Was he that horrible? Did he not give her everything she wanted? He had made sure to give more than he took. What did he do wrong? It sure had felt right to him. But most of all, why was he letting this affect his game?
Tate smacked his pads again with his stick, taking in another cleansing breath. He had a game to win. He would figure out the rest later.
After the game he sat by his locker, his head between his knees. How he ever ended up winning would always be a mystery to him. He was a mess between those steel pipes, and he didn’t know if he could be the goalie the Assassins needed. At one point he had completely blacked out from all the adrenaline coursing through his system. Finally he got his head in the game and nothing else mattered. Not the thousands of people watching or even the Brunette Beauty from two days ago.
But she was heavy on his mind as he took in deep, shuddering breaths. All he could see was the worried lines between her eyes as she looked for her clothes. She was in such a hurry to leave. It was as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. He could have sworn they’d had a good time. He knew he had taken exceptional care of her in bed. He’d been an eager lover and, man, she’d been right there with him!
He still wasn’t breathing right after the ways she’d worked him. She had pushed all his buttons while begging for more. And he was still hot for her. Burned for her. But he hadn’t gotten her number, or hell, even her name. How was he supposed to find a woman who apparently didn’t want to be found?
“Goldie! What the hell is wrong with you?”
Tate looked up to see Lucas Brooks standing in front of him, already dressed and ready to go. Tate sat in his gear, still sweaty. As he looked around the locker room, he saw that he was the last one still in gear. Not that it mattered; the team couldn’t leave without him. He looked back up into Lucas’s eyes and shrugged his shoulders.
“Nothing, just thinking.”
“Are you still thinking of the runaway lay?” Lucas scoffed. “Let her go, she obviously wasn’t worth your time.”
Tate shook his head. “She was amazing.”
Lucas laughed. “Dude, she’s the first girl in months. You’ll find another.”
Tate ran his hands through his short hair. He hated his new haircut. He liked his blond hair long, but the guys had made fun of him, calling him Goldilocks, so he went ahead and cut it. Now he was regretting it more and more each day. He should have known better. Matilda, his sister, had always told him never to cut it. He should have listened.
Tate looked up at Lucas and shrugged again.
“You are probably right. It just bothers me.”
Lucas nodded. “It would bother me too, but don’t worry. You’ll find someone. I’ll see you on the bus.”
Tate nodded as Lucas walked off. Little did Lucas know that his confidence was blown to bits. It had taken a lot for him to walk up to the beauty and hit on her. Rejection scared him shitless, and watching her run out of that hotel room bothered him more than he cared to admit. Even to himself.