Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (36 page)

It seemed like hours passed before she could
speak again, but one look at the clock showed her they'd just
reached his fifteen minute mark. Her head lulled back into the
crook of his shoulder as she peered up at him.

"You're mean, you know that?"

His forehead creased and he shook his head.
"I wouldn't have pushed so hard if I'd known, Silver. I'm
sorry."

"Don't be." She closed her eyes and sighed.
"I'm glad you made me tell you. I just wish I knew what to do about
it. I can't avoid him."

"Yes, you can. Let me speak to him—make him
understand you both need time to sort this out."

"You're asking me?" She clung to him as he
stood and carried her to the bedroom. So what if it made her look
like a damsel in distress. It was nice to feel like someone wanted
to take care of her. "I mean, I figured you might want to talk to
him, but I didn't expect you to ask my permission."

"I'm not, little one. I was simply hoping I
wouldn't have to force the issue."

All tucked in, she shook her head and smiled.
"You don't. I surrender."

He laughed. "About time."

"For now."

His warm breath caressed her cheek as he bent
down and kissed her. He stayed there, not moving until she opened
her eyes. His lips curved slightly and his eyes crinkled. "For now
is all I want, Silver."

The darkness weighed down on her after he
left, but she couldn't sleep. For some reason, his words haunted
her. He'd told her he'd let her go. He'd accepted her teasing 'for
now'. As if . . . as if he didn't expect this thing between them to
last.

Well, I've got news for you, Mr.
Richter.
She hugged a pillow to her chest and scowled at the
door.
I'm not going anywhere.

Tipping his beer to his lips, Landon nodded
for Richter to sit. As the man took the seat across from him,
Landon's gaze locked on the smudge of lipstick on his collar,
hardly noticeable with his jacket done up as it had been during the
meeting, but now, with his jacket draped over his arm, the peach
smear might as well have been a florescent sign.

Red flashed over his eyes and green rotted
his insides until he got a grip. He refused to be jealous of
Richter. At least he was taking care of Silver.

Carter cleared his throat and rose from the
chair beside Landon. "I'm thinking I don't need to be here. If you
don't mind, I'm going to see when the red skirt gets off." He
wiggled his eyebrows as he finished off the last sip of his beer.
Then he lightly punched Landon's shoulder. "Make it fast and I'll
save you some."

"Don't bother." Landon ran his tongue over
his teeth and focused on Richter, who'd gestured for the waitress
to bring another beer. "See you in the room in a bit."

Shrugging, Carter turned away and crooked his
finger to the barmaid with the red skirt. She ducked her head, then
held up one hand, mouthing 'Five minutes'.

"I'm surprised you agreed to share a room
with the kid." Richter watched Carter lean over the bar and shook
his head as the barmaid moved in close to let him whisper in her
ear. "He doesn't have many fans on the team."

Landon laughed. "I don't see why not. He's
passionate and he plays practice games the same way he plays real
ones. The guys shouldn't let him get under their skin."

"He asked Callahan if Oriana likes watching
as much as Perron does."

"He was just messing with him."

"During a meeting. In front of all the men."
Richter's brow shot up at Landon's chuckle. "You can't think it's
appropriate for him to ask if Mason's ass is as tight as it
looks?"

Inhaling deep to keep his beer from shooting
out through his nose, Landon shook his head. "No, but it was
fucking funny as hell."

"He's alienating himself from the team.
That's not funny at all."

Right. Because they're such a welcoming
bunch.
Landon set down his beer and clenched his fist beside
it. "They don't like the way he acts on the ice. I get that he's a
dirty player, but that can work in our favor. Notice he doesn't
have as many penalty minutes as Mason? Carter draws them by
agitating the tough guys—"

"He's a rookie, he's got to learn to play the
game properly before he goes out there and starts pissing everyone
off."

"Why? He's getting the job done. You've got
plenty of good little rookies who will do what they're told. He's
talented and cocky, sure, but he can give us the edge we need. Tim
doesn't have a problem with him."

"True. But Tim might not be the head coach
for long."

Shit. If his own brother isn't safe,
Carter certainly isn't.
Landon drained his beer and inclined
his head when the waitress rushed over to offer him another.
And
neither am I.

"You didn't come down here to talk to me
about Carter's play, did you?" Landon braced himself for the
inevitable. He was either going to be made backup or sent down.
Only . . . shouldn't Tim be telling him? "Just spit it out. It's
awfully good of you to take the time out of your busy schedule to
speak to me yourself."

Richter rubbed his jaw and sighed. "Bower,
you really should work on your confidence. From what I've seen you
are an excellent goaltender.
You
will likely give us the
edge we need. Tim has nothing but good things to say about you.
Actually, when I asked how the men were taking to you, he brought
up the fact that goalies are a breed apart and, so long as your
performance remains consistent, your relationship with the other
players doesn't really matter."

Starting on his fresh beer, Landon nodded.
"Well, there you go."

"But I'm not here to speak to you about you
making friends on the team. Or your performance." Richter frowned
and leaned back in his chair. "I'm here to speak to you about
Silver."

"Ah . . . ." Landon took a few more gulps and
tried to make his face go blank. So far, since the plane, he'd done
a pretty good job not thinking about Silver. Carter helped by
cracking him up with his commentary on the other players, and the
hotel staff, and his numerous ex-girlfriends. The kid wouldn't
leave him alone, which had annoyed him at first, until he realized
the jabbering started whenever he went quiet.

Carter knew something was bothering him. And
had caught on that he didn't want to talk about it. Damn observant.
He'll make some lucky sub a good Dom one day.

Just not Silver. Because the man for her was
sitting across the table from Landon, about to lay down the fucking
law.

"I shouldn't have spoken to her without your
permission." Simple courtesy. Nothing Landon didn't know. But just
saying it made him feel like he'd taken a rake to his guts. "I
apologize. It won't happen again."

Dean's hands slammed on the table and the
waitress approaching them jumped and scurried away. "Damn it,
Bower, it's not like that. At the club, yes, I'd appreciate it if
you'd respect me as her Dom. But we're not at the club. I am asking
you, as her friend, to understand that she needs some space."

'As her friend'. Yeah, make that
clear.
"I do understand."

"Good," Dean eased back into his chair.
"You'll both be very busy, so it shouldn't be difficult. She's
trying very hard to prove herself and so are you. Neither of you
needs the distraction."

"So noted." Landon held up his empty beer
bottle in mock salute. "Now, if there's nothing else, there's an
early practice and I should turn in."
Should, but won't.
"If
you'll excuse me?"

Before he could walk away, Richter stood and
blocked his path. His lips formed a hard line as their eyes met.
"She misses you, Landon."

Landon? What the fuck? We friends now?
He smirked. "Is that so?"

"Yes. It won't take long for her to get past
this. Now is not the time."

"Can I ask you something?" He moved into
Richter's space when he inclined his head. "Did she ask you to keep
me away from her?"

"Not exactly, no. I pressed the matter—"

"Got it."

Richter let out a sound of disgust. "Don't be
an asshole, Bower. You hurt her."

"Yes, I did." He cocked his head, about ready
to laugh at the way the man acted like he had a fucking clue about
what was going on between him and Silver.
If I hadn't stepped
aside, she'd be mine.
"How long before
you
hurt her?
Again.
I can't be what she needs, and I get that. Hopefully
we can be friends again. But one way or another, you better step
up. Prove that I made the right decision—that you're as good for
her as I think you are. If I was in your place, I wouldn't have
politely requested that you stay away."

"Really? So you'd choose her friends? I'm
sure she'd take that well."

"I wouldn't choose them." Damn it, he was so
done with this conversation. Richter just didn't get it. "I'd just
make sure she had better friends than me."

"I see." Richter patted his shoulder and
stepped past him, tossing back. "As I said before, you have to work
on that confidence."

The bar, the halls in the hotel, went by in a
blur as Landon made his way to the elevator. He found himself in
his room, not quite sure how he'd gotten there. All he knew was he
had a minibar full to bring him to the numbness he craved. He took
the small bottles out by the handful, glancing over his shoulder as
he heard movement behind him.

Carter held up a bottle of whiskey. "I come
prepared."

Landon sat back on his heels. "Where's your
date?"

"With her husband. Hopefully." Carter rolled
his eyes. "Yep, I've got standards. She started bawling when I
kissed her and we sat for a bit and talked. I could have gotten
her, she's got a thing for hockey players, but when she mentioned
her baby and how lonely she is when her man works overtime—hell,
I'm a lot of things, but a home wrecker ain't one of them."

"Your parents divorced?"

"Uh huh. Obvious much?"

"It's the only reason I see you turning away
guaranteed pussy. You had a hard on for that girl all night and she
looked ready to do you on the bar." Landon took the bottle from
Carter and walked over to his bed to get comfortable. He took a few
swallows, then handed the bottle back. "You do know if she wants
attention, she'll find it."

"Tying her up and dumping her in a cab seemed
a little excessive," Carter said. "I did consider it though."

Landon snorted. "You've been spending way too
much time at the club."

Carter nodded. "Maybe. Hey, speaking of the
club—"

"Let's not."

"Come on. I've gotta know." Carter took a
swig of whiskey, capped it, then set the bottle between his feet.
"Why did you choose a cane? If you'd spanked her and told her she
was a bad bad girl, she wouldn't be mad at you. You two could
have—" He mimicked humping until Landon stood and took a swing at
him. Falling off the bed, he burst out laughing. "Seriously, buddy,
you know you want to!"

"If I didn't like you, I'd murder you.
Seriously
." Landon retrieved the whiskey and went to the
other side of the room where he'd be less tempted to crack it over
Carter's head. "You could be fucking that barmaid now."

"But it would be wrong."

"Exactly. And if I'd punished Silver in a way
that was at all sexual—if I'd taken advantage of her while she was
vulnerable . . . ."
And crying. You made her cry you son of a
bitch.
"I'm not the man for her, Carter, anymore than you are.
It would have been wrong."

"She wouldn't have taken the punishment from
me, Bower." Carter dropped on his bed with a groan. "She took it to
please you."

Yeah, right.
"She took it because she
didn't want to be banned from the club."

Carter snorted. "You sure are a dumb shit.
Fine, you didn't want to fuck her, but you had to know she wouldn't
appreciate being passed off."

"I wasn't—" Landon's phone went off and he
took it out of his pocket. He grinned, swaying a little as he
answered. "Hey, sis!"

"Oh, Landon." Becky sighed loudly into the
phone. "I knew you'd be drinking."

"You did?" When had his sister become
psychic? He lifted the bottle and frowned at it. Empty. Damn. "You
finished it all, you fucking lush!"

"What?"

"Not you, Becky. Carter," Landon said. "The
rookie is wasted."

Carter gave him a one finger salute.

"Landon, tell me you're not getting plastered
with one of the guys. It won't help." Becky went quiet. "You need
to talk to someone."

"Ah, hell. Now you're going to tell me I need
a shrink?"

"
I
think you need a shrink," Carter
said.

"Go fuck yourself."

Nodding solemnly, Carter rolled off the bed
and stumbled towards the bathroom. "Might as well. No one else is
going to."

Becky sighed again, returning his attention
to the phone pressed against his ear. "No, I don't think you need a
shrink—not that it would hurt you to speak to a professional. I was
thinking . . . well, your girlfriend. Silver. She went with you
guys, didn't she?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Then what is she?"

Plopping down on his bed, Landon threw his
arm over his face. Nosy big sisters were a pain in the ass. "She.
Is. My. Friend."

"Fine. She's your friend. You can still talk
to her about it, can't you?"

About it? What the hell was she talking
about?
He groaned as the room spun. "Becky, what are you
talking about?"

"Oh . . . ." She sucked in a harsh breath.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. You should get some rest. From the sounds
of you, you're going to need all day to sleep this off before the
game."

"Nothing my ass. Why would you—" The reason
for his sister's call hit him like a puck going 100 mph. He sat up
and swallowed. How the fuck could he have forgotten? Two years.
Only two years and he was acting like it had never happened. "I
have to go."