Turning on the charm, I say, “Oh my God, yes. Are you kidding me? You’re one of the best defensemen in the game. I remember my dad talking about you once, saying how impressed he was with your footwork while under pressure, especially for being such a large man.”
“Huh, never heard him say anything nice about me before.”
“Really? He’s said a few things.”
“Was this before or after he’s blessed his underwear?” Levi shoots me a smirk, and it’s the most gorgeous expression I’ve ever seen.
“After, most definitely after.”
“Hmm, maybe I should give him some holy water for Christmas.”
“You do that. Let me know how it turns out for you.”
He laughs. “Probably not well.”
“I can guarantee you it won’t go over well.”
“Was he always this cranky and unpleasant while growing up? And I say that under strict boss-assistant confidentiality.”
I pat his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t be repeating anything we talk about to him. As long as you can promise me the same.”
“I don’t think he wants to hear about my sore toe, let alone what we talk about.”
“Good,” I say. “And yes, he’s always been like this. His smiles are rare. Even rarer when he’s in a good mood. I don’t know, he’s just always been . . . grumpy.”
“Was that hard to live with?”
“At times, yes. Living with someone who gets angry at the drop of a hat is stressful. But I guess I just started to ignore it. There comes a time when you just think, they will always be angry, it’s not me, it’s them, and you move on.”
“Shit, that sucks,” he says. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that growing up. Doesn’t seem too fair.”
“We all have our shortcomings. At least he cared about me. Some parents are angry and don’t care. That would be a terrible situation to be in.”
“True.”
I turn toward him and push his floppy hair back. I immediately notice the goosebumps on his forearm, and I think another great win for me. “What about you? Did you have a pretty decent childhood?”
“Yup,” he says. “Really low-key. Played hockey from a young age and pretty much focused on that. My parents knew my passion. They helped me grow it along with my skill, and I skipped out on all the troublemaking in order to accomplish my goal.”
“So then how did you become a ladies’ man?”
He chuckles. “I thought that was a secret.”
“It’s not, but nice try.”
“Well, throughout high school, I was a beanpole. It wasn’t until I reached college that I started lifting more. I grew into my skin and sprouted in a different way. I started getting attention from the opposite sex, and then at twenty, I lost my virginity.”
“No way,” I say, utterly surprised. “You lost your virginity at twenty? That’s so hard to believe. Not that it’s a bad thing, but given your reputation, I would have thought it was sooner.”
He shakes his head. “Not when all you do is play hockey. I had no time for anything else growing up. But when college came along, that was a different story. And I started to realize how easy it was to talk to women.”
“Talk to women, that’s a nice way of putting it.”
He chuckles. “Well, either way, that’s how it went down.”
“Have you ever thought about settling down?”
“Not really,” he says. “But only because I haven’t found the right person.”
“Ever had a girlfriend?”
“Awfully intimate questions for an assistant,” he says, seeming more relaxed than ever. This feels like the same Levi Posey I first met in the hotel. Smooth in conversation, smirking. Flirting. He seems like he’s in his element.
Which of course makes me like him that much more.
“As your assistant, I think it’s my duty to know all things about you, including relationships. You know, in case some lady claims to be your ex, begging for access to you.”
“I see. And what if some lady does try to gain access to me? What would you do?”
“Shut her down. My dad is a hockey coach, and he’s taught me a thing or two about fighting.”
He chuckles. “That’s kind of hot. So an assistant and a bodyguard, looks like I’m getting a bargain.”
“You are, so tell me . . . anyone I need to look out for?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Never really been in a relationship long enough to cause drama.”
“Have you been in one at all?”
“Um, not really. Never called this one girl my girlfriend. More like, I saw her a few times, went out on a few dates, and then we went our separate ways.”
“Did she end things, or did you? Just trying to gauge if it’s a you problem or a them problem.”
“I ended it,” he says as the arena comes into view. Another thing I love is how close he lives to the arena, but still has a piece of history with his older building. “Just wasn’t interested. Wasn’t invested. Didn’t want to waste her time.”
“Think you could ever find someone to settle down with?”
“Maybe,” he says. “Probably after I retire. I don’t think too much about it now.”
“Not even with all of your boys now tied up in relationships?”
“The only thing annoying about that is they don’t hang out as much.”
“That’s so sad. Well, if you ever need someone to hang out with, I can be there for you . . . bra and all.”
His eyes flash toward my chest, then back up to my face. “Yeah, I can see that.”
LEVI
Levi: I did it, I ignored the double down. I ended up driving her into the arena, and we had a really good conversation. I felt normal, and what we talked about, well . . . loads of things. It made me like her even more, but not just physically. Emotionally, and that doesn’t happen with me very often.
Penny:I don’t know what we should do. Should we clap for him?
Ollie:I think we need to.
Blakely:The fact that he was able to drive the atomic bomb of tits without crashing . . . that deserves an applause.
Winnie:We are so proud of you, Posey.
Levi:Thanks, ladies. I feel good.
Penny:So then, are we done with this?
Levi:Oh no, not even close. This was just a breath of air. I’m sure something will come up where I’ll require your assistance. I’m going to need you on standby at all times.
Blakely:It’s funny that you thought we were done, Penny.
Penny:High hopes, I guess.
Ollie:We still need to figure out why she double downed.
Winnie:I have a theory. Do we think she’s into S&M? Maybe she’s a domme and wants to control him with her breasts.
Penny:Huh, that’s an interesting theory.
Ollie:Maybe this assistant thing is all a ruse, and she and her dad are working together to assist her in finding a sub since it’s been so hard, and Coach Wood saw weakness in you.
Blakely:Ooo, I like that. I could see Posey as subservient. I mean, he said he thrives on pain.
Winnie:That’s right, he did. Well, I’m more convinced now than ever.
Levi:There’s no way she’s a fucking domme. Trust me, I would know.
Penny:Uh, what now? Care to elaborate on that?
Blakely:*Leans in*
Ollie:Are we getting a little hint at Posey’s sex life?
Winnie:The tattoo, now this hint. Is Posey a kinky fella?
Levi:Keep working on the double down. I’m reporting back after warm-ups.
I set my phone down and look up to see Eli, Silas, Pacey, and Halsey all staring down at me. “Uh . . . what’s up, guys?”
“Who the hell are you texting?” Silas asks, gesturing to my phone.
“No one in particular, why?” I tuck my phone away in my bag just in case one of the girls text back.
“Because you’ve been buried in your phone since the minute you got in the locker room,” Pacey says.
“So? So were you guys. You’re always buried in your phones.”
“No, we weren’t. We were discussing the different William Sonoma bread in a bag flavorings,” Eli says. “And from someone who loves a pumpkin flavor, you sure as hell were silent when Halsey said the pumpkin crumble one was shit.”
I sneer at Halsey. “Your palate is undignified.”
“Says the guy who eats bologna daily,” Halsey says.
I stand from the bench and move past them, heading out of the locker room and toward the ice for some warm-ups. “First of all, the bologna I get isn’t just any old Oscar Mayer bologna; this is refined bologna from a deli. The finest in the land. And second of all, there have been articles about how people who like bologna are more intelligent than non-bologna lovers.”
“Where did you see those articles?” Pacey asks, following me.
“On the internet.”
“Show them to us,” Silas says.
“We’re about to warm up, I can’t.” We walk down the tunnel, and just before I head out on the ice, they all stop me by forming a wall before I can enter the rink.
“What is going on with you?” Pacey asks. “You’re acting weird, you barely talk to us, and you have shifty eyes.”
“I don’t have shifty eyes,” I say, but then I catch myself looking to the side out of fear that Coach Wood is lurking.
“Yes, you do,” Silas says, pointing at my face. “You just shifted. It’s like you’re waiting for someone to pop out at you.”