Page 98 of The Dixon Rule

I pull my mouth away when I hear a loud slapping against the deck. We turn to see Percy’s retreating back as he leaves the pool.

“Point made,” I hear Gigi say from her chair.

Fuck. To be honest, I totally forgot about Diana’s ex. There was no point being made. I simply wanted to kiss her and to prove I turn her on.

“See,” I murmur. “It affects you as much as it affects me.”

She reaches down between us, and my lips barely contain a groan when she lightly squeezes my erection.

“Really… Because the way I see it, if we’re both so affected…why am I the only one who can get out of the pool?”

She laughs and swims off toward the ladder. And she’s right. I can’t get out without inviting Ryder’s merciless taunting. All I can do is stay in the water with my erection and wait it out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

SHANE

My daughter will never date a hockey player

AUGUST

“IS IT JUST ME OR ARE THOSE THE TWO BEST-LOOKING MEN YOU’VE EVER seen in your life? They’re better looking than most male celebrities.”

“They’re beautiful,” I agree.

“I don’t know if men like being called beautiful.”

“Not my problem. They are.”

From the away bench at center ice, Will and I stand on skates, ogling Garrett Graham and Jake Connelly. Two NHL superstars. One Hall of Famer. Two beautiful men.

I’ve already texted my dad a few photos of them, which I discreetly snapped when nobody was looking. Or at least I hope nobody noticed, because that’s some stalker shit right there. But I know Dad would get a huge kick out of seeing this.

“Okay—fuck, marry, kill,” I say.

“Who are we killing?” Will furrows his brow. “There’s only two of them.”

“The wife of the one you want to marry.”

Taking the request oddly seriously, he studies both men from head to toe as they engage in discussion on the other side of the rink. They’re wearing black pants and navy-blue hoodies that are identical at first glance, until you peer closer and see Graham’s sweatshirt has the Bruins logo, while Connelly’s is the Oilers. Jake’s forehead creases as he listens intently to Garrett.

Will finally answers. “Fuck Graham. Marry Connelly. Kill Connelly’s wife before she kills me for stealing her husband.”

“Good call.” Brenna Connelly is terrifying. I’ve seen her cut down men twice her size on her TSBN sports show. She knows her hockey better than all the analysts at the network combined.

“Oh shit. Plot twist,” Will mumbles under his breath. “Check out his body.”

John Logan skates over to join the trio. He’s refereeing today’s game too. Another Stanley Cup winner. Another legend.

How is this my life?

“Dude, his physique is ridiculous,” I rave.

“You guys realize we’re here, right?”

Will and I twist toward the row of teenage boys on the bench behind us. They range from sixteen to eighteen years old, and every single one of them stares at us like we’ve lost the plot.

“You shouldn’t objectify men like that,” one kid says earnestly.

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