Rory: A Second Chance Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Hockey Book 3) Read online

  RORY

  Bad Boys of Hockey

  By VIOLETTE PARADIS

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events reside solely in the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters are eighteen years of age or older.

  This title contains mature themes and strong language.

  Cover image used with permission from Deposit Photos.

  Fonts used with permission from DaFont.

  © 2021, VIOLETTE PARADIS. No portion of this work can be reproduced in any way without prior written consent from the author.

  Bad Boys of Hockey Series

  Logan (A Fake Boyfriend Sports Romance)

  Jack (An Opposites Attract Sports Romance)

  Rory (A Second Chance Sports Romance)

  Cooper (Coming Soon)

  Although these novels can be read as standalone novels, reading them in the above order will give you a fuller experience.

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  Table of Contents

  1 - RORY

  2 - MAVERICK

  3 - MAVERICK

  4 - RORY

  5 - MAVERICK

  6 - RORY

  7 - MAVERICK

  8 - MAVERICK

  9 - RORY

  10 - MAVERICK

  11 - RORY

  12 - MAVERICK

  13 - MAVERICK

  14 - RORY

  15 - MAVERICK

  16 - RORY

  17 - MAVERICK

  18 - RORY

  19 - MAVERICK

  20 - RORY

  21 - MAVERICK

  22 - RORY

  23 - MAVERICK

  24 - RORY

  25 - RORY

  26 - MAVERICK

  27 - RORY

  28 - MAVERICK

  EPILOGUE - MAVERICK

  - 1 -

  RORY

  The leaves shimmer under the mid-morning sun as I make my way to A Hard Shot—the restaurant on Apple Tree Lane—for the first meeting of the season with the Blades team and staff. The meeting will be a chance to meet the new rookies and mentally prepare ourselves for the new season. Walking down the cobblestone lane, I approach the restaurant where several of the guys are already lingering outside.

  “Hey, man,” Logan says as I approach him. “Long time no see.” He’s casually standing outside the restaurant while wearing black jeans and a blue Blades pullover with matching blue sneakers. His brown hair looks perfectly messy as it usually does.

  “How’s it going?” I clasp hands with him and bring him in for a bro-hug as I pat his shoulder.

  “Not bad, not bad.”

  “Married life treating you well?”

  He grins. “It’s amazing. The honeymoon in Barbados was awesome and the new house is everything. I’ll have you guys over for a guy’s night at some point.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “It is, man. I’m telling you, married life is the way to go.”

  I smirk. “Who would’ve guessed that the bachelor of hockey would be so happy being married?”

  He laughs. “Hey, maybe you’re next.”

  “I don’t know.” I scratch the back of my head. “I downloaded one of those dating apps onto my phone earlier this year—you know, after our season ended.”

  “Oh yeah,” he says. “I saw some pictures of you on that stupid gossip site—what’s it called? Celebstarz?”

  “Yeah… I don’t know how they find me. They always seem to know where I am.”

  “It’s tough, man. They’re like vultures just waiting for one of us to do something.” Logan watches my expression. “So, I’m guessing those dates didn’t go well?”

  “They weren’t great. Each date was more disastrous than the last. They either want money, fame, or sex.”

  Logan furrows his brow as he considers what I just said. “Sex ain’t bad.”

  “Depends who it’s with.”

  He chuckles. “I never thought of you as a romantic, Captain.”

  I exhale amusedly. “It’s not that. Let’s just say, not everyone is good in bed.”

  “Oh.” Logan laughs. “That’s what you meant.”

  I smirk. “Yeah.”

  “Just gotta keep trying, man.”

  After joining the Blades ten years ago, I devoted all my energy to the team. In that time, I helped the team get to the playoffs three times, six players have won awards, and I’ve been considered the MVP four consecutive years in a row. Yet I haven’t had a serious relationship since high school when I dated the girl-next-door, literally. Deep down, I never really got over her. She set a high standard that no other woman has yet to meet. Young love—stupid love—doesn’t count as a serious relationship, does it?

  “You know,” Logan says, “if you want me to set you up with someone, I can do that.”

  I don’t say anything. I don’t have the heart to tell the newlywed that I’ve given up on my love life. Besides, I’ve got a new hockey season to focus on.

  Austin “the Bear” Berr appears in my peripheral. I can recognize the Tennessee native’s head of floppy blond curls and those cowboy boots from a mile away.

  “Hey, y’all!” He slaps a large hand onto my shoulder nearly knocking me off-balance. “You work on that backswing at all this summer?”

  I laugh. “Two eagles this summer. Not bad, huh?”

  “Bring that backswing onto the ice,” Logan jokes.

  “So…” Austin claps his hands. “Do y’all know anything about the new general manager?”

  “Dylan Rogers?” I rub my chin. “He’s young—younger than me. And he’s some sort of math genius.”

  “Yeah, that’s all I know too. Do y’all think he’s fixin’ to change up the team? You know, do somethin’ drastic?”

  “Drastic? Nah, I doubt it.”

  “I don’t know…” Logan runs his hand through his messy brown hair. “Balder wouldn’t have hired him if he didn’t want to change the team somehow.”

  We look at each other with hesitation. Several other guys walk up to the restaurant. I see the other older guys—Dennis Barkley and Connor Saito. The young rebel, Jack “Blackjack” Lalonde, shows up in his Converse shoes and leather jacket. The others are all young guys. Even though I’m only twenty-nine, I feel like a father figure to all of them. After all, I’ve been the captain for five years. In that time, I’ve trained with them, encouraged them, celebrated with them, cried with them, and everything in between. These guys are basically my sons. We say our hellos and catch up. Although some guys stuck around for the summer, others traveled back home to see their families. I count my lucky stars every night that I play for my hometown team. My childhood home is only a few miles away and my family still lived there up until last year. The neighborhood looks just like it did when I was a kid where I grew up watching and idolizing the Blades. There was a period of time where I thought my life was over but playing for my favorite team has been the biggest treat of my life.

  “Jack,” I say, clasping my hand in his. Jack was a rookie last year but has become an important member of the team. “Congratulations. I heard the good news about the baby.”

  Jack smiles. I bring him in close and give him a bro-hug. He’s thinner and taller than Logan but just as strong and nearly as talented.

  “You’re one of the youngest guys on the team and you’re having a baby. What’s that about?” I ask with a laugh.

  He shrugs. “What can I say? I guess I’m fast on the ice and fast off of it too.”

  The guys laugh before joinin
g in and congratulating him. He fishes an ultrasound picture out of his wallet and passes it around.

  “Aww, ain’t that little baby pretty as a peach,” Austin says.

  “Due in February,” Jack says with a proud smile.

  “Just in time to mess up our playoff run,” Austin jokes. Jack pushes him playfully. They start a lighthearted physical altercation.

  “What’s that?” I ask, noticing a card sticking out of Jack’s wallet.

  Jack looks down at his wallet, seemingly embarrassed. “Oh, that’s a tarot card.”

  “A what?” Austin laughs.

  “Jemma gave it to me. It’s the wheel of fortune. It’s supposed to mean good luck. Or bad luck, depending on how you’re looking at it.”

  “You don’t actually believe in that, do you?” Austin asks.

  Jack half-shrugs. “It makes Jemma happy that I carry it around. As long as it’s not upside-down when I put it away next to the baby picture.”

  “Oh, shit.” Austin’s blue eyes grow wide. “Is it like some sort of voodoo?”

  Jack chuckles. “No, nothing like that. Speaking of which—”

  He grabs the ultrasound picture out of Austin’s large hands and puts it back in his wallet, making sure it’s oriented the right way against the tarot card. The other guys chuckle but Jack remains serious. He looks dispirited as he looks around at everyone’s reactions. I can tell it’s important to him so I give him a small nod of support. He nods back with a subtle appreciative smirk.

  “We don’t need luck here,” Logan says. “We make our own luck on the ice. Don’t we, boys?”

  “Speaking of which, it’s nine o’clock,” I say. “Are we ready to go inside?”

  “Ready as ever, Captain,” Barkley says.

  “What are we waiting for? Let’s get this season started!”

  “Yeah!”

  The energy picks up as we head inside.

  ***

  The restaurant is reserved exclusively for us. There are flags with the Blades logo up on the walls and a large banner that says ‘Welcome Back’. The restaurant staff is busy preparing a long table on the far side of the room for the breakfast buffet.

  “Welcome in, boys,” Coach Murphy says. The dignified man with white hair is standing at the head of the dining area. He’s wearing a white button-down shirt and a red tie. “Take a seat, take a seat.”

  Coach Murphy is joined by a short, bald man with a red face—Mike Balder, the owner of the team. Balder is standing next to a young man with a fresh face, dirty blond hair, and thick-rimmed glasses. He’s wearing a gray suit which only highlights how young he looks. I can only assume that’s Dylan Rogers, the new general manager.

  As the other guys sit down and more filter in, I head over to Coach Murphy.

  “Coach,” I say, shaking his hand.

  “Rory! There’s my captain. How was your summer?”

  “It’s over, thank god. It’s finally time for hockey again.”

  “Ha-ha! I love your optimism, kid.” He pats me on the shoulder.

  “Do you need me up here? Or—”

  “Take a seat and relax. I won’t need you until our first practice.”

  I nod and take a seat in the front with Logan and Marcus Rock, a large defenseman who’s like a teddy bear—a big dumb teddy bear. He clearly spent his summer growing a beard. It’s so long it reaches his chest.

  The restaurant fills with noise as more guys filter in and greet each other. I see long red hair and a leather jacket. It’s our goalie, Skip McGovern, chatting excitedly with Leo Wilson, an older defenseman. I can always tell when Skip is around because our resident metalhead is always wearing chains that jingle and alert us of his presence. The large and toothless Johnny Breakwood is nodding absently as the half-Japanese left-winger, Connor Saito, talks his ear off about an archeology documentary he watched the night before. We certainly have an interesting group of guys here in our little hockey family.

  “Settle down, settle down,” Coach says.

  Most of the chatter dies down but Skip and Leo are still talking.

  “Hey!” I put my fingers in my mouth and whistle. “Coach is talking.”

  The guys instantly go quiet.

  “Thanks, Rory.” Coach gives me a quick wink before looking out at the room. “Welcome to a new season.”

  The guys break out into applause.

  “As you can see, there are new faces among you today.”

  Everyone looks around.

  “We traded our second and third-round picks to acquire Konstantine Ivanov from the San Francisco Whips. Please give him a warm welcome.” Coach gestures at a Russian man sitting on the opposite side of the room.

  A scrawny man with tan skin and dark eyes gets up and waves. He’s skinny but he’s got a long reach. I’ve played against him before. He’s fast and skilled with his stick. One thing I know—I’d rather play with him than against him.

  “We also have some new rookies this year. Please welcome Nico Finn.” Coach gestures to a young Swedish guy with shoulder-length blond hair and a pointed face. He looks like he could be an elf. I’ve seen him play in the minor-league—he’s quick and tricky. He also has a temper but here’s hoping he’s more experienced now.

  Nico gets up and waves at everyone.

  “We also drafted Gabriel Chase,” Coach says. “Go on, get up.”

  A moody man with black hair gets up and looks around. Everyone starts mumbling.

  “Gabriel Chase?” Logan leans in and whispers. “Like, the heir to the Chase fortune?”

  “Who?” Rock asks, leaning in as he strokes his beard.

  “His dad owns all those Chase hotels and his mom was a famous actress. He’s loaded!”

  “Seriously?” Rock asks. “I heard about him. I thought he wasn’t that good.”

  I look at the young man. “He looks so young. Baby-faced even.”

  “Baby-face Chase,” Logan jokes.

  “Quiet,” Coach says. Everyone goes quiet. “You’ll have time to meet each other after we’re done. Now, on to our new staff! As you all know, we have a new general manager. Please welcome Dylan Rogers.”

  The man with dirty blond hair and thick-rimmed glasses gets up and nods at us. He’s holding a clipboard, looking very officious.

  “Hi everyone,” he says in a professional voice.

  “Rogers is here to shake things up a bit,” Coach says. “I’m sure you’ve heard his credentials—he has a degree in sports management and a Master’s degree in mathematics and statistics. He’s going to approach this team in ways we’ve never experienced before.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I ask.

  Dylan narrows his gaze as he looks at me. “I mean I’m going to rearrange the lines.”

  Everyone breaks out into chatter.

  “Rearrange the lines?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Settle down!” Coach says in his commanding voice. Everyone goes quiet again. “As Rogers said, he’s going to change things around so that we can gain an edge.”

  “Our lines aren’t good the way they are now?” Logan asks.

  “Let me explain.” Dylan steps forward so that he’s in the light. “This team is a mix of highly skilled guys and big guys that use strength and speed at the cost of precision-like skills. If we make each line a mix of guys with speed and guys with precision, we can create plays to optimize those aspects.”

  The room is quiet as the guys listen. It’s so quiet that we can hear the staff using utensils in the kitchen.

  “That’s basically what we have now,” I say. I look back at Logan and Marcus who both play on the first line with me. Logan and I are the precision while Marcus is the strength and speed.

  “True,” Rogers says, “but I’m going to further rearrange the lines to re-distribute people based on their skills and speed. As it is now, the fastest players are all on the same line. This hurts the other lines.”

  “But—” I start.

  Rogers puts his
hand up. “You’ll understand it better when we’re in practice. That’s when I’ll explain the new lines. For now, this is just a day to get to know each other.”

  Everyone starts chatting again.

  “Settle down,” Coach says again. “Dylan has reasons for his suggestions. We’re going to meet up for our first practice next week and we’ll get used to these new lineups. It’ll be bumpy at first but we’ll get used to it. In the meantime, please help yourself to the buffet. There’s enough eggs, steak, and bacon to go around. And I encourage you to get familiar with your new teammates.”

  Before I get a chance to ask any more questions, the guys are already getting up and lining up for the buffet.

  Logan slaps me on the back. “Well, as long as they don’t separate us, I think we can kick ass this season.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble. “Let’s just hope that this guy knows what he’s doing.”

  After stuffing our faces with way too much of the breakfast buffet, I step out with Logan as we make our way down Apple Tree Lane. It’s almost eleven and the sun is high in the sky. The lane is filled with families and people shopping and stopping for lunch.

  “Hey, you wanna check out my new place?” Logan asks. “I’ve got a new pool table.”

  “Nah, I can’t,” I say. “My parents want me to go to some lunch celebration for their friend.”

  “Ah, too bad. Hey, you okay, bud?” He must notice the tension in my jaw.