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When a devastating injury threatens the career of Terence Tiles, the superstar goalie for the Seattle Kraken, the foundation of the life he meticulously built over eight years crumbles. Overwhelmed, he retreats from...
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I'd heard she was the most ruthless, coldest, sports agent in our world. She looked like me, but her accent was completely foreign, British and different. Some would say sexy. She'd just finished talking with Alex and she made her way into one of the many gyms owned by the Krakens.
She disappeared for some minutes, and she appeared in something entirely different from her classy attire earlier. Teal yoga pants, workout gear. I looked around to be sure no one lurked around and thought I was a creep, whereas I was purely fascinated, drawn. She had grace with her every step, you could tell she calculated even the way she took breaths, and now, the way she clocked the innocent punching bag.
She threw calculated punches, and every one was a hit that made me flinch. She probably noticed me standing there and so she turned, catching me completely off guard and somewhat flustered.
Flustered? Totally.
“How long were you going to watch?” She asked.
“As long as possible.” I heard myself answer.
“Are you going to get in here so I can punch something real and alive?” She gestured to the ring as she kicked the poor punching bag away.
“Something?” I almost choked on my words. She just referred to me as something?!
“Oh, my bad, you're someone, either way, get in here, while I'm still asking.” She paused and took one trained gaze at me. “Mr. Terence Tiles.”
“You know me.”
“You're a star Goalie in the league, everyone knows you.” She rolled her eyes. Dark, stormy, beautiful.
“And yet I haven't gotten a fucking Vezina, seems useless to be known by everyone don't you think?”
“I'm seriously considering punching your arse in here.”
“I dare you.”
She took me seriously.
She launched her arm at me, and I was able to dodge, we ended up in a funny maneuver where she was right under me, and we shared deep heavy breaths. She watched me for a second where our eyes met and our chests heaved in sync, creating a rather exotic rhythm. And then she pushed me off her instantly, and because I was so carried away, I moved to the floor in an instant. And then came yet another thing I read about her in my head, she hates physical contact.
“Everything good here?” Coach Mike came in, seizing some of the awkwardness with him.
“Yes, I was just leaving.” She answered. Coach Mike took one look at the two of course and God knows what he was thinking. I opened my mouth in protest and he walked away without giving me a chance to, probably didn't even know I wanted to say anything because he was on his way to meeting the love of his life.
