Page 88 of Pucking Revenge

A bark of laugher escapes me. Brooks is practically double Aiden’s size in every way that’s visible while clothed. It wouldn’t surprise me if that applied elsewhere.

Lennox: Wonder if he’s pierced.

Me: No freaking way.

Lennox: Have you ever been with someone who is?

Me: No. Have you?

Lennox:

Me: Lennox!

Me: If he is, then he would have had to go months without sex, right?

Lennox: No way!

Lennox: Oh shit. I just looked it up. You’re right. God, how do men do it?

Me: Haha. I don’t think men who actually get it are men who are actually getting it.

Lennox: LOL. I’m dead.

I lean back in my bed, heart feeling light for the first time in days, and type out a response to Brooks.

Me: Sure. Work related?

Brooks: No.

Me: Friend related?

Brooks: No.

Brooks: Dress warm and be prepared to smile, crazy girl. I miss you.

My stomach is a riot of butterflies as I step inside Bolts Arena for Brooks’s photo shoot. The photos are for a campaign for sports apparel—mainly the kind that goes under his uniform. I’m already salivating at the prospect of how he’ll be dressed. Tragically, the underwear campaign was before my time with Langfield Corp, so I wasn’t around to witness the way he posed for the shots that ended up on billboards all over Boston.

When I spot Hannah standing by the ice and holding two cups of coffee, I make a beeline for her.

The tiny brunette breaks into a huge smile when I approach and holds out one of the cups to me. “Finally!”

“Thanks.” With a grateful smile, I accept the coffee and take a sip. Despite my warm layers, the arena is freezing. The pumpkin taste dances on my tongue, pulling a moan from me. “Pumpkin. My favorite.”

“Ha, that’s what Brooks said when he gave me the coffees. ‘Give this to my Pumpkin. She’s my favorite.’ How cute is that?”

I choke on my latte and have to cover my mouth to keep from spewing the hot liquid on my friend. “Brooks said that?”

Honestly, I can absolutely picture him saying it. To me. But to someone else? Especially after how surly he’s been to just about anyone he’s come into contact with lately? If he’s?—

Not going to get ahead of myself. We’ll see how he is today.

But even as I tell myself to temper my expectations, giddy excitement rises. It only continues to grow when a loud laugh echoes through the cavernous space. When the sound hits me, it’s like being pummeled with a shot of pure elation. His laugh is one of many things I’ve come to crave over the last few weeks.

I find him instantly. Wearing a dark blue robe, Brooks is standing at his full height in front of a small woman, still laughing.

With her back to me like this, it’s impossible to make out her words, but she speaks again, and there goes that laughter that hits me like an arrow to the heart.

Only a second later, the shot of elation turns into one of jealousy. Who is this chick and why does he find her so funny? I’m the funny one.

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