Page 4 of Pucks and Coffee

“Yeah, in and out, boom, bam. We can go to the bathroom. It’s not like we’ll be doing oral, and I’ve got a condom.”

Of course, he says that just as I take a sip of my wine. I choke instantly, pressing my hand to my chest as I set down the glass. I gawk at him. “Excuse me?”

His cheeks flush, and I know for a fact this dude isn’t embarrassed. “It wouldn’t take long. It’s not like I’m going down on you or anything. We can meet in the bathroom.”

“Oh, you’ve got this planned out?”

His cheeks rise with the force of his toothy grin. Ew. “Yup, and it’ll be good.”

I lean on my hand. “Will it?” I ask, but I don’t think he senses my sarcasm.

“Yeah, baby, it will be.”

“So, let me get this straight.” I pin him with a look. “You want me to go to the bathroom, where you’ll drive your dick in me until you come, and hope I get off?”

“Yeah, my dick will do the job. It’ll be quick and enjoyable.”

Surely this is a dream. I look down at my wrist and pinch myself. My skin stings and my heart races. Nope, this is real life. “For you, since you’ll be getting off.”

“I guess I could finger you.”

“Please don’t strain yourself on my account,” I throw back dryly.

He gives me a wry look. “I don’t do oral. I don’t like the taste of women.”

And I’m done. I drain my glass and then set it down.

“You’re ready?” he asks.

“Absolutely not.”

I stand up, opening my purse for the only cash I’ve got. A hundred-dollar bill that Louisa gave me to pay the plumber who is coming tomorrow since she went to Nashville to watch her fiancé Ciaran play hockey for the Nashville Assassins.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving. And a bit of advice,” I say, throwing the bill on the table. “Learn to enjoy the taste of women, and then, fuck right the hell off.”

I walk away, and I hear him call me something, probably a bitch. But I don’t care. I’m fucking done. I don’t really understand why dating is so hard in this world. It’s honestly like World War Three, and I keep taking the hits left and right.

It’d be really great if men weren’t so fucking stupid.

And if they do have to be so stupid, at least let them like eating pussy.

CHAPTER 3

Coleson

Coach taps his stick to the ice, and I flick my wrist, passing the puck to him with precision and ease. He passes it back almost immediately and I lean into my stick, slamming it into the puck once it reaches me, hitting the back of the empty net. We’ve been doing this same drill for over an hour and I’m exhausted, but I don’t allow that to show. I can be tired later. Right now, I need to work. It isn’t until Coach has me skating the length of the ice while timing me that I feel I may die a brutal death.

I’m sucking air, unable to fill my lungs, when he finally blows his whistle. I fall to the ice, heaving in deep breaths and letting them out as my heart slams against my chest. My whole body throbs with each slam of my heart, and my limbs feel like Jell-O. It’s an amazing sensation. I hear Coach skate off, and when he comes back, he drops my water bottle on my chest. I grunt from the thunk it makes against my pads, but then I reach for it, squirting water into my mouth while still trying to breathe.

“You shaved four seconds off your time. Good work, Katz.” I wish I could thank him or even nod, but all I can do is breathe. “I’m moving you up to the first line, taking Carter’s spot. Not as captain since that would cause an uproar, though, I think you’d do awesome.”

Finally, my heart returns to normal. “I would, but I get it.”

“How have things been with the guys?”

“Fine,” I lie because I don’t want him to worry about shit that can’t be changed. “They don’t talk to me much, but it’s cool. I’ve got a goal to work for, and in all honesty, I don’t need anyone to like me. I’m their teammate. I’ll support them on the ice, and that’s it.”

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