The Captain's Girl part I
Author's Note: Welcome to the opening entry to The Captain's Girl trilogy.
Thanks for reading!
XOXO,
Tails
Katie Thompson grew up playing ice hockey, so it was a no-brainer to join the beer league team when she moved two years ago. Ben Hughes was the star forward for a smaller collegiate program. He's been the captain of the 99ers since his second season. Katie was picked up by the 99ers, and has helped them win their past two seasons.
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Katie bent over on the bench and began to untie her skates. The game had been tough, but they had prevailed. She pulled at the tongues and freed her sore feet. Katie set them against her bag and started gingerly tugging off her chest pad. Eyes closed, she recalled the game winner.
She had won the race to a loose puck and played it forward to Ben. She hadn't seen the goal, though, since one of their opponents had taken the chance to lay a bone jarring hit on her. The refs didn't usually allow those, but seeing as it was close to midnight and the game was over, there were no repercussions.
Ben had scored, apparently beating the goaltender above his glove. They'd be hearing the story for weeks. Ben loved to gloat, but he wasn't an asshole like some of the others. It was technically a co-ed league, but there were very few women. As a result, Katie tended to get treated differently. Sometimes it was targeted hits, sometimes it was snarky comments from her own team. Never from Ben, though, and she had learned to appreciate that.
Free from her pads, Katie hobbled over to the shower room in the compression shirt and shorts pants that she wore beneath her gear. Being in a league where girls were a rarity meant that the women's locker room was undermaintained. This year, it meant that the showers took several minutes to warm up. So, she made a routine of switching them on, packing her pads, undressing, and then showering.
The squeaky knob turned and... nothing. A horrifyingly frustrating creak echoed through the pipes, but no water.
"Fuck me," Katie muttered, sulking back to the bench and her bag. She pounded the locker in frustration. She sat down hard, rattling the bench. If she wanted a shower, she'd have to wait for the men's locker room to open up.
"Fine," Katie said to herself. "I'm not going home like this."
She shoved her feet into her crocs and laid back on the bench, ready to wait for everyone to leave. Hopefully, she thought, they would leave quickly so she wouldn't have to hurry.
Twenty-five minutes later, she heard the last of them leave. Katie waited a minute before grabbing her bag, tossing her blonde braid over her shoulder, and strolling out of one locker room and into the other. She walked with purpose, like she belonged there. The smell hit her harder than the check earlier had. It was musty, like a whole team had left heavily used pads and socks hanging around.
Katie dropped her bag near the back of the locker room, the closest row to the showers, and turned the water on. Hot water blasted out instantly.
"Nice," she mused, holding a hand under the jet.
It took all of two minutes for her to peel the rest of her clothes off and get in the shower. The hot water felt like a massage on her bare back. She stood under the aggressive stream of water, and closed her eyes, relaxing under the jet. Katie could feel her muscles relax as the sweat and grime from the night washed down the drain.
Finally, although begrudgingly, she shut the water off Katie waddled back to her bag, towel wrapped around her torso, the wet sound of her feet smacking against the tiled floor echoing around the room.
"Hey, Kat," a voice teased from a few rows over. Katie shrieked, instinctively covering her chest and groin, despite the towel that already covered both. There he stood, wearing a grey sweat suit, light hair still damp from a shower.
"What the fuck, Ben?" Katie spoke in a hushed, angry voice. How dare he? How dare he... what? Come into his locker room? She was the trespasser. "What are you doing here? I thought everyone left!"
Ben waved his phone. "Forgot this. Did you enjoy your shower?"
Katie blushed, but refused to be rattled any further. "The pressure is nice. Women's shower wouldn't turn on."
"Interesting. Glad you found a solution," he went on, leaning against a row of lockers. Katie's temper flared as she clocked Ben's eyes wandering down her body, lingering on exposed skin.
"Stop looking at me like that," she scolded. Katie stood tall, almost five-foot-nine, but still had to look up at Ben, who was probably six-two.
"Like what," Ben prodded, his voice dropping. Katie widened her eyes and made an exaggerated point of ogling every inch of Ben's build. Her eyes caught on his ...
"Oh my god, Ben!" He was hard. It was plain as day, his boner creating an obvious tent in his sweats. "Put that away. Let me get dressed."