Page 27 of The Breaking Point

We’d beaten our rivals the Blizzards with only seconds to spare. Coach hadn’t been happy about the almost loss, but now, after a few beers in him, he looked happy again.

We’d gone to a nearby club with a huge private room upstairs. The music was blaring, the alcohol flowing, and I didn’t know half the people in attendance.

There were probably more women here than actual hockey players or fans. I should be thrilled.

But here I was, standing in the corner, glaring over at where my teammate Riley was saying something in Grace’s ear that made her laugh.

Look at me,I thought.Look at me, Grace.

As if she could hear my thoughts, her gaze met mine. Her eyes widened.

And then she looked away.Damn her to hell.

How much had I had to drink? I’d forgotten. Somebody kept putting glasses in my hand, and I wasn’t disinclined to stay sober tonight.

Then I made eye contact with Coach Dallas. He’d been looking over at his daughter. Had he seen me staring at her?

His eyes narrowed at me, but then somebody caught his attention. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

I needed to get ahold of myself. I was being too fucking obvious. The last thing I needed was Coach getting on my ass for lusting after his virginal daughter.

I groaned inwardly. Christ, just the thought of her being a virgin, of giving in to temptation, of making her mine, finally—

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Mac asked me with a raised eyebrow. He punched me lightly in the arm.

I scowled. “Nothing,” I growled.

“Why are you standing in the corner by yourself? That’s not like you.”

I finished off my drink and looked around for a server to refill it. “Maybe I’m not in the mood to celebrate.”

“After scoring the winning goal? Okay, sure.” Mac frowned at me. “What’s up with you, anyway?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, did you have a chance to go to the club? Because if you haven’t, you definitely should. Blow off some steam.”

The memory of my night at the Scarlet Rope and my time with Shayla improved my mood a little.

“I did go,” I replied, forcing myself to stop scowling. “I had a good time, actually.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I mean, I’ve never been into whips and chains. I guess I’m just fucking vanilla at the end of the day.”

Mac chuckled. “Everybody says that until they try it once. Are you going back again?”

“Yeah.” I hadn’t known whether I would until that moment.

But Mac was right. I needed to blow off steam. And what better way than getting my mind off the one woman I could never have?

“Well, a word of advice,” said Mac. “Everybody signs NDAs, but that doesn’t mean shit doesn’t get leaked. Did you wear a mask? Because if not, I would, going forward. You never know who’ll recognize you and snitch.”

I shrugged. “I’m not worried about that.”

“I speak from experience: you don’t want this shit talked about in the tabloids. It gets twisted and complicated.”

When the media had found out Mac liked BDSM, it’d been a whole fucking thing. It hadn’t helped that Mac’s parents were ultrareligious.

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