Page 98 of Pucking Amazing

“Ditto,” I manage, still trying to catch my breath. “That was...intense.”

“The best kind of intense,” Sydney purrs, twisting in my arms to plant a messy kiss on my mouth before tugging her dress down. “But I think we have a game to get to, hey?”

The game blurs past in a rush of adrenaline and arousal, my body still buzzing from that hot-as-hell hookup in the bathroom. I can barely focus on the action on the court, my mind replaying flashes of DJ’s cock in Syd’s mouth, the way her tits bounced every time I thrust. Beside me, Syd and DJ are cozy, sharing nachos and nudging me with sly grins.

“Best game night ever, am I right?” DJ murmurs, his breath hot on my ear. “Beats the hell out of some boring team dinner.”

I smirk back at him, enjoying his closeness. “Definitely more fun than listening to Luca drone on about defensive strategies over bland chicken.”

Syd laughs, her eyes sparkling. “You guys are terrible. But I have to agree, this is way better.”

She leans into me, her curves soft and tempting, and I drape an arm around her, savoring the rightness of being here with them, laughing and flirting without a care. For a blissful stretch of time, I forget about the pressure, my asshole brother, all of it.

I’m just a guy, living the dream with his two gorgeous lovers.

Then the final buzzer sounds and the crowd explodes into cheers, but Syd pays no attention, going rigid against me. I glance down to see her staring at her phone, her face ghostly pale.

“Syd? What’s wrong?” Icy dread runs through me at her expression.

“It’s Mikey,” she says tightly. “He just showed up wasted to the team dinner with the owners. He’s totally out of control. I have to go do damage control before this turns into a complete disaster.”

My chest clenches as she grabs her purse and bolts up from her seat, already halfway up the aisle before DJ and I can react. We exchange a loaded, worried look.

“Shit,” DJ mutters. “Poor Syd. And fucking Mikey, that idiot.”

I’m already moving, pushing past the oblivious celebrating crowd. “Come on, we have to go help her salvage this. Before it ruins everything she’s working for. That we’ve all worked for.”

This is the type of thing the media would absolutely eat up. We’ve just finally salvaged our reputations, turned the conversation back to our skills on the ice.

Something like this could really fuck up our team’s synergy and lose us the playoffs.

DJ is right on my heels as we rush after Sydney’s retreating form, my buzz completely killed.

CHAPTER 34

SYDNEY

I burst through a set of ornate double doors into utter pandemonium. The swanky restaurant looks like it’s been hit by a tornado of panicked hockey players and staff. Vincent, our GM, is pacing the room like a caged tiger, barking orders left and right.

“I don’t care what it takes, just find him, and now! And where the hell is Sydney?” he shouts into his phone.

“Right here,” I call out, raising my hand meekly. Vincent whips around, his eyes flashing. I gulp.

Scanning the room, I spot the team owners huddled in the corner. The Prescott family, billionaires who made their fortune in corn futures before buying the struggling hockey franchise as a vanity project.

Mr. and Mrs. Prescott are frantically tapping on their phones, no doubt doing damage control.

But it’s their daughter who catches my eye. Tall and willowy with striking emerald eyes, she stands apart from the chaos, calmly observing the madness. Our gazes meet and there’s an odd sense of kinship. Another woman thrown into this testosterone-fueled world, a fellow outsider.

“Some party, huh?” I joke weakly.

She gives me an appraising look. “You must be Sydney, the team’s addiction counselor. I’ve heard about you. I’m Amelia Prescott.”

“Nice to meet you, Amelia. Sorry it’s under such crazy circumstances.” My heart sinks even lower as my gaze moves back to Vincent, still furiously stalking around the restaurant shouting into his phone. This is on me.

Amelia touches my arm gently. “Hey, don’t be hard on yourself. This isn’t your fault. Addiction is a beast. All we can do is be there to support Mikey when he’s ready.”

Her compassion—both for me and for Mikey—takes me by surprise. Before I can respond, Vincent strides over, clapping a meaty hand on my shoulder.

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