Page 21 of For Pucking Keeps

Shay: Or is it Jaz now? You know, we don’t want to get it wrong and out you to the public.

ME: Hold my hands up defensively. I get it. Look, I’m sorry.

The alarm goes off abruptly and the lights begin to flash again as Devan scores a goal. The crowd erupts in ruckus celebration. Lia screams and punches the air. “Yeah Dev, not just a pretty face.”

My phone pings and I focus on the messages once more, taking my eyes off another joyous dog pile on the ice.

ME: I love you two, you held it down for me, and I really am sorry. I am going to deal with the rest of my mess. My house, Shaun, and Mace.

Dawn: We understand, Lex, we do. If it were me, I would have cut their dicks off.

Shay: LOL, I would have definitely gone straight Carrie mode on them both.

Dawn: Shay, arson?

Shay: Damn straight. I’m not afraid to admit I’m the crazy one.

ME: You two. LOL.

Dawn: You’re forgiven. Plus, momma might have told us not to give you too much shit. So are you spilling the beans on your new man or not?

Shay: I’ve never watched hockey, but damn, a girl can change. Fanning my face.

ME: Not my man. We ah. . .

Dawn: Make that shit happen. He claimed you on national television, Alexis.

Shay: Heart eyes, sis. Heart fucking eyes.

ME: . . .

Shay: She’s besotted, Dawn. Are you drooling, Lex?

ME: Gotta go, loves, the game is ending.

Shay: Yeah, yeah. Keep us informed. The haters are definitely about to hate on social media.

Dawn: Love ya, Alexis. Don’t pay attention to any of the noise. You deserve something extraordinary.

I try very hard to drown out the noise of the reporters who are hammering Tor with question after question about tonight’s game. I try to ignore the random jabs in my direction in which Ridley, the champ he is, quickly deflects, bringing the focus right back to the topic of the night. The Vipers haven’t lost a game since the start of the season and are well on their way toward their Stanley Cup goals. Lia and I are hiding away from the eager media, having opted to stand in the back of the room where family members wait next to the locker room.

“I owe your brother a drink,” I whisper, keeping my voice down, despite the loud questions and cameraflashes aimed at the players being interviewed.

“Oh, they won’t be going out tonight. They are leaving for a week of away games tomorrow. I’m playing mother tonight and making sure my brother goes straight home. After the other night, I promised I would keep him from seeking out Brea. It’s a mess, Jaz. Those two need to fuck and make up, but who am I to give relationship advice?” She blows out a tired breath as the communication manager notifies the press that post-game questions are done for the night.

“If it’s meant to be, then they will find a way to work it out. Maybe there’s too much water under the bridge. I mean, I don’t know their whole story.” I shrug.

Lia shakes her head. “Girl, you don’t know the half?—”

“Miss Starr.” The sound of my name from his lips sends a delicious thrill through me as I turn in Tor’s direction. Damn, this man and his three-piece suits. The grey suit molds around his perfect body like a gift wrapped present, just for me. He saunters over, lips tipped up in a sinful smile. I want nothing more than the ability to read minds so I can be privy to whatever has this man looking at me like I’m the midnight snack he wants to devour.

I try to keep my feet underneath me, and you know, use my legs as he stops in front of Lia and me. “Excellent game, Mr. Bailey,” I say breathlessly, which of course makes Lia snort beside me. I have zero chill right now. I’m a mess, completely thrown off kilter.

“I’m going to assume Jaz is not leaving your sight tonight, and I’m on Ridley duty,” Lia says as she slowly backs away from Tor and me. The man hasn’t stopped his eyes taking me in from the moment he approached us.

“You are correct, Lia. Keep my boy out of trouble,” he says as he holds his hand out to me without another word.

“As long as you take care of Jaz then?—”

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