Page 1 of Spite Crush

Chapter One

~Kellen Fox~

“I hate hockey,” I complained as I pulled my ball cap lower to try to shield my face as my manager led me down the stairs through throngs of fans. “When you said we were going to check out the arena, I didn’t realize you meant we’d be doing it during a game.”

“Yeah, I know.” Craig clapped a hand against my shoulder. “But just think, tomorrow night all this screaming will be for you.”

“Not my first rodeo,” I grumbled as we continued our long descent toward the glass surrounding the rink. “You had to put us against the boards?”

“Right next to the Inferno penalty box,” he clarified. “They’re great seats.”

“Whatever.” We finally reached the front row and I mumbled apologies as we climbed our way across the legs of seated fans.

I turned a glare to Craig as I wrenched my jacket off before dropping into the folding chair. Hehadn’t been kidding. My shoulder was pressed to the plexiglass separating the stands from the penalty box.

“Take your hat off, too” Craig insisted.

“No,” I snapped. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”

“Well, I do,” he said, reaching over to snatch the cap off my head. “It’s good publicity.”

“It’s obnoxious,” I told him, my hand trembling as I tried to wrestle my hat back from him. “First of all we showed up late, which you know I hate doing for anything. And second,no one cares about celebrities at sporting events. Especially not hockey.”

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked with a deep chuckle as he crammed my hat into his jacket pocket. “Especially not hockey.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Hockey is stupid and no one watches it anyway.”

“Clearly.” Craig motioned to the massive crowd surrounding us.

Yeah, yeah. To be fair, it wasn’t just hockey that I didn’t like. It was allsports in general. It was violent and messy and just not my thing.

I jumped in surprise as two men crashed into the glass right in front of us. The sound was unbelievably loud, even over the roar of the crowd around us and I watched in disgust as the two players started throwing punches at each other.

“Well, this is exactly how I wanted to spend my Friday night,” I complained, rolling my eyes toward Craig.

“It’s great, right?” he shot back, ignoring my tone and obvious displeasure.

A referee skated over and broke up the fight, his hand signals indicating something that seemed to anger the crowd, as well as the player wearing number thirteen for the Inferno, who wrenched open the door to the penalty box and skated inside before turning and screaming loudly across the rink.

“Hey, Ref, did you get permission from your wife to come out here and fuck me tonight?”

“Whoa,” I said, unable to stop myself from turning wide eyes toward the player who’d just shouted and was now literally seated next to me on the other side of the partition.

I was surprised to see the player look over at me. He smirked before turning back to watch the game still going on without him.

“That’s Zak Dempsey,” Craig said, motioning with a nod toward the man in the box. “One of the best fucking players in the league.”

“Well, he’s certainly got a mouth on him,” I said.

“Eh.” Craig shrugged. “That’s hockey. They all talk like that. But, to be fair, Dempsey’s the best at that, too.”

Zak Dempsey’s face suddenly filled the massive screen suspended above the arena, and thanks to the wide angle of the shot, I was clearly visible as well.

The crowd exploded in cheers and Dempsey and I waved at the same time, him grinning and me grimacing as I realized I had no idea who the fans were actually cheering about seeing.

In my defense, I was a public figure as well. And it was difficult to blend in with my blond hair and distinctive tattoos littering my neck and arms. Which was why I’d worn the hat in the first place, in an attempt to shield myself from unwanted attention. Maybe I should have kept my jacket on.

“Oh my God,” Craig said, laughing behind his hand as if he didn’t want the camera to pick him up as well. “This is fucking golden.”

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