Page 36 of One Pucking Wish

My eyes dart across the room where the Princess sits in her ridiculous pencil skirt and top made of what I’m certain is the most unbreathable fabric known to man. Long gone are her untamed curls. She’s back to the tight, twisted updo. She wears a scowl as her thumbs type across her phone.

I wonder what she’s pissed about now.

There’s no doubt that sweat is also dripping down into her ass crack. That image plays in my mind, and the familiar pull in my gut resurfaces. No freaking way. I shake my head, willing the images of her sweaty, naked body to vacate my mind. The fact that I actually know what Penelope looks like naked is going to be a problem. It’s not hard to brush an urge to the side when that’s all it is, but when it’s accompanied by very detailed images, it’s slightly more challenging. I’m starting to question if our activities, the ones we both agreed to forget about and never speak of again, will pose a problem.

“Hey, do you all remember the last minute of the game? With a flick of the wrist, I sent the puck past Tampa’s goalie. The scoreboard lit up.” Palms out, Max brings his hands together in front of his face and extends them outward, highlighting the scoreboard in his head. “I mean, I did it for the team, you know?”

Cade bumps his shoulder. “You did good, TJ Maxx. Real good.”

Max sighs, a wistful smile on his face. “It was effortless, but sometimes those are the best ones.”

I hold in the urge to tell Max to shut his mouth. Cade and Beckett are the leading scorers, so I’ll give the defenseman his moment. He earned it, and he’s right, it did win the game for us—unlike my pathetic excuses for saves. My head has been stuck in hormone-induced sex with Penny land and not rooted in reality. I really do need to get my shit together.

“This is the year! We’re getting that Cup!” Jaden shouts, raising his fishbowl in the air.

Drinks are raised, and the boys start hollering, hyping each other up. I lift my half-empty warm beer and clink the bottle against the others.

“To the Cup!” someone yells.

“To the Cup,” I respond in unison with the others.

The spicy, sweet perfume she wears invades my senses, notifying me of her approach before she’s said a word.

“Hey, Ms. Stellars.” Bash grins in the boy-next-door way that he does. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you, Sebastian,” Penny says from behind me. “I’m going to head out. Does anyone need anything?” The guys verbalize that they don’t. “Okay. Well, can I assume since we’re the only ones in this place, that you all can handle yourselves appropriately tonight? There will be no issues, right?”

I step to the side and twist so I can see her. Her gaze narrows as she eyes the team.

“You’re good to go, boss.” Jaden salutes. “We promise to be good.”

“Okay,” Penny answers, and her voice sounds less than convinced. “Behave,” she warns, and she looks directly at me this time.

I set my warm beer on the table and steal a glance as she heads out of the hut, not wanting to make it obvious that I’m watching her.

A very drunk Jaden yaps on about the attributes of the fishbowl drink, and I zone out. I opt to give our after-win team bonding bar outing a few more minutes before calling it a night. I’m exhausted.

A handful of guys wearing Tampa Bay jerseys joins us inside the sweaty tiki hut. From the way they hobble inside, off-balance, I don’t think this is the first bar they’ve frequented. They make a beeline to the bar and down a couple of shots each, yelling obnoxiously after each one.

“I think I’m going to head out,” I say to Cade.

“Yeah, I think we are, too,” he answers.

“Oh my God, it’s the Cranes! Good game, guys!” one of the Tampa fans shouts across the bar.

Beckett gives the Tampa fans a wave and a half-hearted nod. “Yeah, this isn’t the vibe. I’d rather be with Elena.”

“She back at the hotel?” Max asks.

“Yeah, the pregnancy has her exhausted. Plus, the bar isn’t her scene,” Beckett says.

“I don’t think this bar is anyone’s scene,” I say. “Well, besides Jaden’s.” I nod toward my teammate as he holds his fishbowl and dances to a song only he can hear. The guys laugh.

“We should probably get him back to the hotel, too. Any more fishbowls and we’re going to be carrying him home. What do they put in that drink anyway?” Cade shakes his head with a laugh.

His wife, Iris, speaks up, “I wonder if it’s like the jungle juice we had in college. People just put whatever liquor they had in a big bowl, mixed in some juice and fruit, and called it good. That drink was lethal.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it were similar,” Beckett says.

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