Page 41 of Puck Prince

I open my mouth to do exactly that…

When suddenly, the door flies open so hard it hits the wall, making me jump and my uncle swing around defensively.

“We aren’t casually dating,” Owen announces as he stalks in. At first, based on the rage on his face, I think he is going to go chestto chest with Coach. Not a smart thing to do, per se, but a very Owen thing to do.

“The hell are you doing just barging in here, Sharpe?” Uncle Randy growls at him.

Based on the red crawling up Owen’s neck and the tension in his shoulders, I think he’s about to go chest-to-chest with my uncle. I also think I need to talk to him about stretching more. He looks way too tight.

Instead, Owen stops next to me. “I’m clearing up the rumors that Callie and I are just messing around.”

“Thank you,” I mumble. “We?—”

“We’re together.”

“Wait,what?” I blurt out.

He turns to me, his eyes locked on mine. “They already saw the videos, babe. It’s obvious. Might as well come clean. It’s not a fling. This thing between us is real.”

It takes me all of two seconds to realize what he’s doing. And as much as I know it’s a really stupid idea, I am stuck.

It’s this or the unemployment line. This or shame. This or no more chances.

So I do the only thing I can do.

I play along.

“Yeah.” I turn back to my uncle, hoping I don’t look as wide-eyed as I feel. “Yep, he’s right.”

My uncle studies us. After a long, hard moment that makes me want to throw up, he shakes his head. “Bullshit.”

“What?” I ask.

“I call bullshit. Sharpe isn’t the serious type, and I know you better than to believe you’d go out with a guy like?—”

Before my uncle can finish the sentence, Owen wraps his arm around me and pulls me against his hard body just like he did in the photographs. But this time, his mouth covers mine.

If he wasn’t holding onto me, I’d probably be on the ground right now. Between shock and confusion, along with the way this man’s tongue sneakily finds mine when our lips are locked, I can’t seem to think a single rational thought.

So I simply give in, melting into Owen. Leaning into the warm press of his mouth and the cinnamon scent of his skin.

Of all the ways to get fired, this has to be one of the best.

When he finally pulls away, it feels like a magnet has been ripped from my lips. He keeps his eyes on mine, ignoring Coach entirely.

“I’ll see you after practice, babe.”

Then he turns and saunters out.

15

OWEN

“Pass! … Pass! … Pass! Now, get around them, Sharpe. Put the puck in the back of the damn net or we go again.”

To say that Coach is drilling me hard would be an understatement. Could it be because we are about to go head to head with one of the toughest teams in the league?

Maybe.

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