Page 27 of Three Pucking Wedding Dates

I glance at the two of them, my best friends, and feel a pang of guilt for letting things spiral so far out of control. But as much as I want to take back those heated moments, there’s a part of me that can’t help but crave more.

“Okay,” I murmur, forcing a smile onto my face. “Let’s get out of here.”

As we make our way to the car, I replay the events in my head, wondering how long it’ll take for things to return to normal between us—if they ever do. But even amidst the chaosof my thoughts, one thing remains clear—this may have been a mistake, but it’s one that I don’t regret.

A gust of wind flutters my hair as I step outside, the cool air a welcome reprieve from the heat that enveloped me in the kitchen. Gray and Reid walk ahead of me, their bodies tense, their conversation nonexistent. I can’t help but feel responsible for the awkwardness between us.

13

GRAY

Adrop of sweat trickles down my face as I push myself harder on the ice, but it’s not enough to distract me from the memories flooding my mind. Oakley’s body pressed against mine, her lips tasting like heaven itself. I’d always envisioned what it would be like for us to be together sexually…of course, Reid was never a part of my plans, but I’ll take what I can get.

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even realize the puck is coming my way until it’s too late. The missed pass sends Coach into a fit of rage, his face turning an alarming shade of red as he screams at me from the sidelines.

“Archer! Get your head in the game! We’re too close to the end of the season for you to be making idiotic mistakes like that!”

“Sorry, Coach,” I mutter, trying to refocus on the practice. But even as my body goes through the familiar motions, my mind is still consumed by thoughts of Oakley and Reid—our tangled limbs, and the way she moaned my name.

“Gray, seriously, what’s gotten into you?” Reid skates up beside me, concern etched across his features.

“Nothing,” I lie, knowing full well that he can see right through me. “I’m fine.”

He stares at me before smirking. “It’s Oakley, isn’t it?” And then he skates off.

I don’t respond, can’t respond. I can’t seem to shake my preoccupation with Oakley. The image of her sitting in the stands, watching us with those piercing green eyes, sends shivers down my spine that have nothing to do with the cold. I need her like I need air to breathe, and it terrifies me.

“Archer!” Coach’s voice pulls me out of my reverie once more, and I realize that I’m on the verge of screwing up again. “Do better!”

I grit my teeth in frustration. I can’t afford to let my feelings for Oakley jeopardize our season, but how can I possibly ignore the way she sets my soul on fire? This is what I’ve trained for, after all—to be the best player I can be, no matter the circumstances. But as I glance over at Oakley one last time, it’s clear to me that there’s more to life than hockey.

The shrill sound of the whistle pierces my ears, and I wince as I try to get a grip on my emotions. As the players regroup, Theo skates up to me, his eyes narrowing. “What’s gotten into you, Gray?” he demands, clearly frustrated by my lack of focus.

“Nothing,” I snap, my gaze involuntarily drifting toward Oakley once more. She sits nervously in the stands, her green eyes filled with a mix of worry and excitement.

“Damn it, Gray,” Theo hisses when he notices where my attention lies. “You shouldn’t have brought her here.”

“Last time I checked, you’re not the boss of me,” I retort, my irritation growing. “Ever since she got here, there’s been a stick up your butt.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” Theo insists, his voice softening slightly. But I shake off his concern, returning to practice with renewed determination.

Even so, my performance only worsens.

“Hey, Archer,” Ash, one of my teammates, calls out, interrupting my internal struggle. “No wonder you’re playing like crap. If I had Oakley waiting to spread her legs for me, I’d be too distracted to focus too.”

My blood boils at his crude words. I skate over to him, my fists clenched and my face burning with rage. “Back the hell off, Ash,” I growl, getting right in his face. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that.”

“Okay, okay. Just tell me this, can I get a turn with her once you’re done?”

My heart pounds in my chest, and before I can stop myself, my fist connects with Ash’s jaw. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with surprise before they narrow into a dangerous glare.

“Is that all you got, Archer?” he taunts, wiping the blood from his lip.

I ignore the burning pain in my knuckles as I advance on him, my focus solely on protecting Oakley’s honor. Ash throws a punch of his own, but I swiftly dodge it, countering with apowerful hook to his ribs. I hear him gasp for breath, but he isn’t done yet.

Ash launches himself at me. We grapple, our bodies colliding with unyielding force. We trade blows, each hit more vicious than the last. My vision blurs with sweat and anger, and somewhere in the distance, I vaguely register the shouts of our teammates. The world narrows to the space between me and Ash, each of us determined to come out on top.

Finally, I land a devastating uppercut, sending Ash sprawling onto the ice. My breaths come in ragged gasps as I stand over him, fists clenched and ready to keep going if need be.

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