Page 11 of Spite Crush

“Oh, is he playing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “I had no idea. I just like to see games in each town I play in.”

“Bullshit.” She laughed softly. “What is it with you two?”

“I honestly don’t know what you mean,” I insisted. “I truly don’t know Zak Dempsey.”

That was technically true. I didn’t know him. We’d fired shots in the press and had one really weird moment together in the Inferno locker room. None of that constituted any kind of…knowing.

“Well, enjoy the game,” she said, standing up again. “I need to get to work.” She looked around for a minute then bent over and grabbed my hand before whispering against my ear. “Don’t cheer for him if he scores. The Blade fans will tear you apart.”

That was actually good advice. But it wasn’t really what she was doing, because I felt the sharp edge of a piece of paper being jammed into my palm.

“You’ll never catch me cheering for him,” I promised her as I closed my fist around whatever she’d just given me.

“Okay.” She straightened back up and smiled again. “We should grab a drink after the game.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said.

“Your loss.” She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder as she turned and made her way back to the stairs.

For a moment I wondered what it would be like to walk through life with that kind of confidence. Of course she was rich, famous, and beautiful so what the hell did she care.

I mean, I was rich and famous too, but I didn’t have much confidence. And I was pretty sure it wasn’t just the anxiety or the ADHD that constantly gnawed on my brain. Yeah, I could stand on a stage infront of fifty-thousand people, but I had to freak out about it first.

Naomi Rose didn’t seem like the kind of woman who doubted herself or freaked out about much at all.

I unfolded the paper, expecting it to be her phone number, but it wasn’t.

It was Zak Dempsey’s.

Before I could spend much time pondering why she would have felt the need to give me the hockey player’s digits, the lights dimmed over the stands and an announcer started doing introductions for the teams, who each poured out of their tunnels,skating around the rink as everyone cheered.

I was actually startled by the amount of cheering that went up for number thirteen on the Inferno. I wouldn’t have thought Zak Dempsey had a lot of fans outside of Michigan. But once again, he surprised me.

The game got underway and I actually found myself enjoying it. I think the immersion into the highlight reels had given me a better understanding of the sport, which led to far more interest than I’d ever had before.

In fact, I was so immersed and focused on following the puck that I jumped at the loud crash of two bodies slamming into the boards right in front of me. And when I looked up, my gaze locked on Dempsey’s.

His body was pinning one of the Blade’s players to the glass, but his glare was all for me as it raked down to my jersey then back up again.

I gave him my best smile as the refs tore the players apart and sent Zak skating across the ice to the Inferno penalty box.

Well, that had been totally worth it.

Chapter Six

~Zak~

I’d been baiting him. I knew it the minute the words came out of my mouth in that interview. I hadn’t done it with any real thought behind it, but as I played it over and over again in my head, I knew I’d called him out because I wanted to see him again.

Which was fucking ridiculous. And dangerous. And really, really stupid.

But it was also the truth. Because I couldn’t stop thinkingabout him. Couldn’t wrap my head around the enigma that was Kellen Fox.

And there he was. Even with the massive crowd, he wasn’t hard to spot. Considering he was sitting against the glass right next to the Blade bench…wearing their sweater.

This fucking guy.

My heart started to hammer in my chest, a combination of anger at him repping a rival team, and admiration at his blatant attempt to piss me off. Not to mention the annoying and undeniable attraction Ifelt for him. All of these things boiled up inside of me and for the first time in my professional career I couldn’t stop myself from drawing a penalty on an opposing team’s side of the ice, slamming one of their players into the glass in front of Kellen.

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