Page 19 of Falling for the Pucking Bad Boy

“Then how about James?” He lifts a knowing brow because they all know. They all know because James bragged about it.

My jaw ticks, and I try my best to keep my badass bitch face on, but mentioning James was crossing a line.

For several reasons.

“What about him?” I asked, daring him to mention it out loud so that my father could practically hear him if he said it loud enough. “Why would James care?”

Marshall smirks and licks at his bottom lip. “You know who you belong to, Sellers. And, as long as your daddy is the coach, it will stay that way.”

"What's going on here?" my father demands, his tone firm, and it slices through my calmness and makes me jolt in response.

Meanwhile, Wells is getting a front-row seat to the chaos he is still ensuing.

“Rory is tryin’ to get rid of Wells,” Marshall replies as my dad approaches us.

My God, why is this bench area so small?

“Hurry up,” Dad clips, boring daggers into Wells’s head. “I want him gone.” Then he looks at Marshall. “And I would like you to focus on the damn game, not making googly eyes at Judson Wells.”

He heeds my father's words and turns his attention back to the ice. However, the tension lingers, fueled by Wells’ unexpected intrusion and the unresolved questions surrounding his motives.

To everyone but me.

Despite the chaos around me, I put Wells's number in my phone, thinking it might appease him and make him leave.

But as I glance up, he's still there, his cell phone in hand, waiting for me to text him as he smiles.

I can't believe he went to these lengths to see me. I thought his team was in Colorado, but Wells is here in New York, and I am still determining how unless I got the games wrong.

RORY: Why are you here?

WELLS: You blocked me.

RORY: For good reason. Are you mad?

WELLS: About you, Snowflake. I can’t get you out of my head.

No.

No. No.

I look up from my phone, and Wells is staring at me. He is studying my expression, and I need him to leave.

For several reasons.

RORY: You need to go.

WELLS: Are you going to block my number the moment I do?

RORY: No. Because you’ll come right back here, won’t you?

WELLS: I love how well you know me already.

He rises from his seat, towering over me where his cock is level with my face, even though it’s two feet away, but I still blush as I gaze up at him.

His lips coil into a smirk before he finally waltzes off and starts up the steps toward the exit, I hope.

But then my phone buzzes again.

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