Page 5 of Chasing the Puck

Which makes the way certain parts of my body react to what he’s wearing right now particularly inconvenient.

He’s sporting a flannel shirt, too. I guess that’s the theme of this part of the photoshoot. Unlike Hudson, he has his sleeves rolled up. Exposing his thick, muscular, veiny forearms.

Heaven help me. Tuck McCoy shouldn’t be allowed to roll up his sleeves like that.

It should be against the law. Banned by international treaties, Geneva Convention style. It’s a weapon that’s simply too powerful. I can’t stand the guy and the sight has even me imagining licking those forearms like they’re popsicles.

Ugh. I quickly reprimand myself for that thought.

It doesn’t matter how beefy his forearms are or how good those jeans make his thighs look or how that rugged flannel shirt tucked into them accentuates his wide shoulders and broad chest—Tuck McCoy doesn’t deserve my lust.

“Can we go now?” I ask Summer. “I’m starving.”

But just then, Hudson notices her and decides to stride over, framing her chin in his massive hand and pressing a kiss to her lips.

I have to admit, the way her eyes flutter closed when his lips capture hers, the way her body leans into him so effortlessly, so naturally, so securely … well, sure, I’m a little envious.

Even though I’m not even close to ready to open my own heart to another person after the disaster of my relationship with Ryan—who also happened to be a hockey player.

Has that fact biased me against their kind? Yes, it has. Hudson’s the rare exception, because I’ve seen how good he treats my best friend.

But as for the others? They’re not getting any benefit of the doubt.

When Hudson pulls away from the kiss, he and Summer take several beats to stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. Beats of time during which my stomach growls. I really am starving.

Speaking of hockey players who absolutely are not getting the benefit of recently mentioned doubt …

“Don’t those two lovebirds just make your heart sing, Lockley?” There’s no mistaking the easy drawl rumbling next to me. Tuck McCoy’s sauntered right over without me noticing.

And he’s doing that thing where he calls me by my last name.

I guess he thinks it’s supposed to be cute. It isn’t.

“Uh. Sure,” I deadpan. What else am I supposed to say?

“Hudson! Tuck!” Lane Larsen, the Black Bears’ team captain, calls from where the rest of the team are still standing by the photographers. “Get back here! We’re about to get changed for the beach scene!”

“Beach scene?” Summer asks, her voice thick with interest. Her eyes roam up and down Hudson’s body. “Does that mean you’re about to wear … swim trunks?”

As Summer and Hudson shamelessly flirt, Tuck coughs, drawing my attention to him. “I’m about to be wearing swim trunks, too, Lockley. If that little tidbit of information is of interest to you.” His eyebrows wiggle suggestively.

“It would take me weeks to think of a tidbit of information less interesting to me,” I retort.

I absolutely could not care less that Tuck McCoy is about to be wearing swim trunks, his bare torso fully exposed, looking like a total surfer bro with his golden tanned skin, scruffy sandy-blonde hair, and bright blue eyes …

Alright, I think it’s time to go.

“Summer, I’m going to starve to death if we don’t leave now,” I groan. My complaint syncs perfectly with Lane shouting at Hudson and Tuck to get back to the photoshoot once again. Mercifully, Hudson and Summer give each other a peck of a goodbye kiss.

“Catch you later, Lockley,” Tuck drawls as Summer and I turn to leave.

I, of course, decline to dignify him with a response.

We walk from a heated room in the art building out to the freezing cold of Vermont in January.

The only saving grace is that there’s no wind. Still, the temperature is hovering at the very bottom of the double digits, and coldness wraps around every one of my limbs even though I’ve zipped my cute, cream-colored puffer jacket straight up to the neck.

The cold might be biting, but it’s still beautiful today. The sky is a smooth, bright blue without a cloud to be seen. The campus walkways are shoveled clear, but elsewhere the ground is still covered with last week’s snowfall, and the way the sun reflects against the pure white snow is dazzling.

---