Twisted Collide: The new sports romance in the Redville Saints series

It’s been a few weeks since I last spoke to Coach. The off months have everyone scattered about, and with no official training in the books, I don’t usually see him, so when the text came from him asking me to have dinner at his house, I was taken aback and a little nervous about the reason for this dinner.

Not long ago, we had dinner often, but he’s had a lot going on lately, so the dinners stopped. Now I wonder if she’s what has him so busy.

Robert is like a father to me, and during the offseason, I often spend time with him and his wife, Sherry.

They’ve been there for Molly and me since the beginning of my career.

Robert knows how important my sister and her well-being are and why I’ve never gone very far from Redville.

Dinner shouldn’t feel weird, but it does because of her.

Josie . . . aka Hellfire, could not have been in his life until recently. I would’ve known about her. Right? Would Coach have kept her a secret from me?

I find it hard to believe that he’s never mentioned he had a kid in all these years, especially since he’s been so instrumental in helping me raise Molly.

I’ll need to ask him because none of this makes any sense.

I’m starting to sweat, a cold panic taking over.

Will she be there?

Does he know about our night at the vineyard?

Fuck.

I pull the car to a stop and then throw it in park.

My hands are still on the steering wheel when the front door opens.

Coach stands in the frame with a perplexed look on his face as he watches me.

What does he see? A kid about to lose his shit? If only he knew how close to the truth that is.

Still sitting here, car off, unmoving.

The lines on his forehead are more pronounced as he stares at me. He doesn’t speak or say anything, but the questions on his face are clear.

Are you getting out?

What’s taking so long?

I let out a long sigh and throw the door open.

“You okay over there, Sinclair?” he asks.

“Sure am. Was just thinking about something.”

“Must have been pretty serious.”

If he only knew.

Based on his teasing lilt, I don’t think this has anything to do with Josie and me. He doesn’t sound mad, and if he knew, he’d be more than pissed.

Thank God.

What he doesn’t know won’t get me killed, so now I just need to keep it that way, and the best way to do that is to hope that she’s nowhere near me.

I know Josie will be working for the team, but I didn’t pay enough attention to ask what that meant.

Now I can’t.

I’ll just need to wait until official practice starts at the end of September.

I take the steps two at a time until I’m standing in front of him.

Robert looks like he’s aged ten years since the last time I saw him. Which is crazy. We’ve been on break. What could be worrying him?

Her beautiful face pops into my head. She’s what’s aging him. I don’t even have to ask to know. There’s a story here, but as much as I’m desperate to know, I need to mind my own fucking business. Especially if I want a place on this team and in his life.

Banging his daughter will not win me any points with him.

“Come on. Sherry is waiting to say hi.” He moves back and opens the door farther to let me pass. Every time I come to his house, I feel at home. I still remember when I first went pro. I was so young, but I needed the money. Molly was only thirteen, and raising a kid while still being a kid was hard work.

That’s where Sherry stepped in. I’ll never repay that debt. Which is why Coach can never know what happened that night with his daughter.

I follow Robert as he leads me to the dining room, and the moment I step into the room, my breath leaves my lungs.

Fuck.

She’s here.

Sitting at the table, beside an empty chair that’s set for dinner for me, is Josie.

Sherry moves to stand, but I shake my head. “Stay, I’ll come to you.”

I need to move. Need to expel some of this intense energy flowing through me.

I cross the room until I’m by her side, then bend down and kiss her on the cheek.

“Have you formally met Josie yet?”

“Can’t say that I have,” I respond. Not a lie. Josie and I never exchanged names. But I think I told her mine the next day. It’s blurry. My mind was going a million miles a minute, and I barely remember what all was said other than the fact that I was royally fucked.

“Josie, this is Dane Sinclair. He’s a defenseman for the Saints.”

“Hi, Dane.” Her eyes narrow, and then she scrunches her nose. “A hockey player.”

“Yep.” I incline my chin down. “How do you feel about hockey?” I ask, knowing damn well how she feels. If my memory serves me, she has an intense opinion about the sport.

“I don’t,” she chides.

Robert shakes his head, and his skin has gone pale; he looks mortified by her comment. “That’s not nice, Josie.”

I lift my hand to him. “It’s fine. I could tell by the way she said hockey player that she wasn’t a fan.” I chuckle, trying to dispel some of the awkwardness that’s fallen over the room.

“And what about you, Dane?” She says my name in a teasing way, as if I’m privy to some inside joke, which I am, but does she have to be so damn obvious?

Pot meet kettle.

“Obviously, I love it.” Needing this conversation to stop.

Coach gestures to the table. “Why don’t you take a seat.”

As I pull back the chair, the wood scraping against the floor sounds like nails on a chalkboard, but it beats the awkward silence as I finally sit and wait for the reason I’ve been summoned here.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, Dane,” Coach says, and I turn to look at Josie beside me.

Is she uncomfortable with him talking about this in front of me?

“It’s really none of my business,” I tell him as I pull my gaze away to look back at the center of the table.

I don’t mean it, and based on the look he’s giving me, he knows it too. I’m only saying it because the tension in the room is thick, and I would like to avoid conflict as much as possible. I also don’t need nor want to know more about Josie, and I know that going down this road will only lead to that.

“It might not be, but I didn’t want you to think—”

“It’s fine, Coach.” I stop him. This is already too much talking for me. I hate this shit.

“Okay, well, if you ever want to talk.”

I nod. I won’t. He knows it. I know it.

Coach leans forward, placing his elbows on the table. A habit I know Sherry hates. I peer over in her direction, and not surprisingly, she’s biting her cheeks in. It makes me want to laugh. She’s working really hard not to say anything to him, and it’s obvious. Maybe not to his daughter, but it is to me.

“The reason I want you here is actually about Josie,” he says. It feels like a bowling ball is dropped in my stomach. What the hell does he want to talk about? “I’m concerned about the guys.”

My hands under the table go stiff. “The guys?”

“That one might try to take advantage of Josie. She’s young, after all, and my daughter.”

Bile rises in my throat. Little does he know that I’m that bastard who already has. I might not have realized it, but I knew she was young.

“I’m sure everyone knows better than to make a move on your daughter.” I turn to her when I say this, trying to let her know that I never would have done what I did had I known.

“Be that as it may, I want you to do me a favor.”

“Anything,” I respond. After everything he’s done for me, I’d do anything for him.

“Keep an eye on her. Watch her like you would Molly.”

The weight of his words hits my chest. I can feel the pain with every breath I take.

How will I ever look at this man again, knowing what I did to his daughter? I feel sick to my stomach, but I can’t let on. I can’t say anything; what’s done is done, and I just have to move forward.

As if she can hear my words and decides to do the opposite, I feel something touching my foot from under the table. It takes me a moment to realize what it is.

The little hellfire is trying to fuck with me, and her method of torture is playing footsie with me under the table.

My jaw goes rigid, and I turn and glower at her.

She’s smiling innocently at me, then turns back to her father, her lips flattening into a thin line. “I don’t need anyone to look out for me,” she responds. “I get that I needed a job, and you’re the only one hiring, so I’m stuck here, but I’m twenty-two, which is hardly a baby. I can take care of myself.”

“You might think that, but you don’t know my players. It would mean the world to me if Dane here would—”

“Protect me.” Although she isn’t facing me, I can see her roll her eyes, then the corner of her lip tips up. Shit. What is she up to now? My question is answered when her foot travels higher, and I nearly choke.

“Yes.”

“Very well. Dane, will you do it?” she says, but by the way she says it, protecting her isn’t what she’s talking about anymore.

She’s trouble with a capital T, and I don’t think she’s the one who needs protection.