The Best Defense: A Sports Romance

Devon

I fucking well knew it. I just had to make sure, this sneaky little minx is Coach Harris' daughter, and her shocked expression told me so.

"I.. what the fuck" she blurts out. "How'd you find out?" Her eyes widen with annoyance at her little secret being exposed.

Lets be real for a second, I'm still reeling from her panic attack earlier. I wish, just like I wished with my mom, that I could shoulder the pain. I watched Tillie's eyes glaze over the same way my mom's did every time she experienced a flashback. Her eyes were always so void of emotion when she finally came back to me, and I would just hold her while she cried. I would do the same for Till if she would let me. For now, I'll settle that she hasn't pushed me away completely. In fact, she held on. Fuck me I want to be the one she clings to, and that's never happened before.

"I'm a genius." I smirk at her which only makes her eyes roll. Annoying her might be my new favourite pass time.

"A humble one too. Fine, yes I am your coaches daughter and the sister to the infamous Gemma Harris. Happy?" She's rage folding now and her pile of laundry is shrinking by the minute so that means our time together is shrinking too.

"Ecstatic, why do you keep it a secret?" I have an inkling, but no more assuming for me when it comes to this woman.

"I didn't want to start college as Gemma's sister and have everyone whisper about whether or not I'll follow in her footsteps. My dad didn't deserve that." She says it as she folds and unfolds, then refolds the same shirt. Clearly not a topic of conversation she enjoys."When my parents got divorced and my mom went back to her maiden name. I hyphenated my last name in an attempt to not only be connected to my mom still, but also have that anonymity two last names allows."

"Makes sense, and you're at every game to support your dad then? Here, I was assuming it was your bustling school pride or a deep love of hockey that got you to the arena every home game." I tease.

She shrugs her shoulders, "I guess it's a little of everything, plus my roommates enjoy the players. Some more than others."

I know she's hinting at the fact I hooked up with her roommate Jess last year; I might be a hockey jock but I'm not a complete idiot. I can't change what happened before.

Leaning over, I grab the last shirt on the table and hold it behind my back, "Are there any players you enjoy?"

She glares at me, making a show of being mad. It's a cute act, useless but cute. I can see it in her gorgeous blue eyes. She likes being teased. Finally, she crinkles her nose, "there was one, but I am starting to think he's full of himself."

I clutch my chest and lean forward, "Till, you wound me."

I barely noticed her move towards me, but suddenly, a slender arm is snaking around my body, reaching for the shirt I am holding behind my back. I don't even have time to stop her. She's fast.

She's giggling as she turns away from me. "For a star defenseman, your reflexes are trash, Taylor. Someone should tell your-"

She doesn't even have time to finish the sentence before I have her small body pinned up against the tall industrial dryer, and I am folding my hand over the shirt in her hand. Our eyes are locked, her pupils are blown out, and I can see her pulse hammering in the middle of her slender neck.

We hold each others gaze, both of us unsure if we should continue. All she would have to say is no, and I would put six feet between us easily.

"Coach." She whispers breathlessly.

Letting out a tortured groan I lean down and begin trailing my nose along the column of her neck up towards her ear, stopping briefly to let my lips hover where I can feel her pulse. It's intoxicating, and I want to make her heart race.