Page 62 of Pucked Together

"Some things never change, do they?" Her eyes don't leave him.

Keelan and his dance battles are something we saw pretty often in college, and Rina is no stranger to them.

"You'd think he'd grow out of it by now," I say, shaking my head.

"Nah, you give him too much credit. Keelan Landry will always be a man-child."

I look at her, and there's a sadness to her words. But before I'm able to say anything, Izzy is bouncing into my arms.

"Aren't you glad I saved you from an embarrassing fate?"

"My hero," I nuzzle her neck, and she's hanging onto me.

Trevor is sitting at the table next to us.

She pecks my lips to make sure he sees it and then announces, "Come on, Rina. I need to go to the little girl's room."

Izzy grabs Rina, adrenaline clearly running through her veins, and drags her along towards the restrooms. Keelan is back from dancing with his adoring fans.

"You're lucky you had a stand-in. Sincaid just has to take the L," he says over his shoulder.

Sincaid jumps off his barstool and squares up, shouting, "I know what you're doing, Landry. But you and your whore of a sister can stop trying to ruin my life here."

Keelan and I both turn at the same time to face each other.

"What the fuck did he just say?" Keelan asks me.

I shake my head, and without even thinking, I turn and sock him right in the fucking nose. Blood goes flying everywhere, and he doesn't hesitate to throw a punch back.

But I'm not done. I keep pummeling him until he's on the ground, and he's screaming for me to get off of him. I can vaguely hear shouts around me, but I see red.

The lights come on, and the music stops, and the only thing that makes me stop is Izzy's voice.

"Ryker! Enough!"

Chapter 20

Izzy

Rina pulls her carry-on down the center aisle of the plane. How the woman can wear four-inch heels even on travel day is beyond me.

I've opted for a seat in the very back near the restroom, away from most of the team. My brother included.

"You hoping to be the last one off the plane or something?" She asks, bending down to pick up her bag and stow it away above us.

I give her the shrug of my shoulder as a response.

The players are filing in one by one in their suits behind her. They all look so dashing. I look back down at the open book in my lap. Not that I'm reading. My mind is way too distracted for that.

It's been a week since the incident at Justin’s bar.

The next morning, news of the Heatwave players getting into a public brawl hit the stations. Ryker being named as the aggressor. Rina tried her best to spin it, but the amount of fans there with their live video feeds only flamed the chaos.

NHL's bad boys club has a new ring leader—Ryker Balinger read one of the headlines.

I keep seeing the look on his face while he practically pummeled Trevor.

Rina sits next to me and opens up her messages, typing away like she does all day.

---