Page 75 of Going All In

It always ended with a kiss that rocked her down to her toes.

She even worked on her final project at his condo when he was working out with the guys or at practice. He’d set up a desk for her in the second bedroom with the most comfortable office chair she’d ever sat in. She could’ve slept in the thing. He’d even had a basket of her favorite snacks and a mini-fridge fully stocked with her favorite sparkling blackberry water so she only had to get up to pee.

She’d been shocked when he ushered her into the room the first time. Of course, then he’d wiggled a brow and said he was available any time for study breaks and that she should require one at least every few hours.

She smiled thinking about how she’d pushed him out of the room, only to let him back in an hour later.

She could not be held responsible for her hormones when he came in all sweaty from working out. Shower sex with him was an adventure. Especially when he dropped to his knees and worshipped her with his tongue.

But the best part was that he gave her time to really work. His interruptions were few and welcome.

And this morning she turned her draft in. On time.

Having an on-call stress reliever was definitely a perk.

Now she had to wait a few weeks for the committee to review it, and she was definitely going to need Jake to take her mind off of it. Not that she was nervous, since they’d already approved her outline months ago, but this topic was important to her, and she wanted her argument and analysis to sound both scientific and well thought out.

Jake battled forpuck possession, pushing against Liam, Sully’s brother, as the man tried to snag the puck from him. Boston was in town for tonight’s game, and they were evenly matched. Too evenly, as the three to three score showed on the jumbotron with six minutes left in the third period.

One of Boston’s other forwards got in the mess, flattening Jake against the boards, but still Jake held on, twisting his head to see if anyone was open, if he managed to keep the puck on his stick.

He was breathing hard—his legs were gassed before he’d gotten into this tight spot—but he couldn’t exit the ice until they either scored a goal or the puck was firmly in their possession. He wouldn’t give Boston the chance to score on a bad change. That was the last thing they needed, especially since they’d lost the other night by one because of a bad change he had made against Winnipeg.

“Looking tired, man,” Liam taunted.

“Fuck off,” Jake bit out, digging into Liam’s gut with the arm not currently on his stick.

“Hey, I saw Rylie in the hallway tonight. You hit that yet?”

“Fuck off.”

“Figured she’d be your type. Owner’s daughter and all,” Liam said, like he was talking about the weather.

“She’s the coach’s daughter, asshat. Now are we going to play or did you want to chitchat?”

He would not fall into the asshole’s trap. How the hell this kid was related to Sully was beyond him. He also wouldn’t think about what Bugsy’s daughter was doing near the visiting team’s area in the arena.

“Jake,” Harty’s voice called through the mess, and Jake looked over his shoulder, spotting his linemate.

He dropped his shoulder and elbowed Liam in the gut, shoving the man far enough away for Jake to shoot the puck toward Harty.

Harty skated around the back of the net and fired, but it bounced off the pipes. Baz caught the rebound, but he was surrounded, and when he tried to get off a shot, fucking Liam darted in and snagged the puck. Then they were off again, heading toward Booksy.

Jake spotted the next line of forwards with legs over the boards, waiting to hop on, but he couldn’t leave the ice until the Strikers had possession again.

He focused purely on the adrenaline coursing through his body and not how much he was sucking wind as he skated down the full length of the ice.

Finally, Finn had the puck on his stick, and as they skated back toward Boston’s end, Jake, Harty, and Cheesy were able to get off the ice and a fresh set of teammates streaked down toward Baz and Finn, who hovered near the far neutral zone.

His legs felt like rubber as he finally slid back onto the bench after a long shift. One of the trainers tossed him a towel and he wiped his face under his visor.

“Solid shift,” Bugsy muttered, slapping Jake and his linemates on the back. “Get it in the back of the net next time.”

The man would never just offer encouragement, he always had to follow up praise with what they still had to do. The man was a straight shooter, and Jake appreciated that. His coach in New York was all bluster, constantly yelling at the players with little to no encouragement. He was terrible with the younger players too. New York had been pretty bad the last two seasons, and it was only a matter of time before his old coach got axed.

Sully slid in next to Jake as the third line hit the ice. “You elbow my brother?”

Jake turned to face his teammate, the man who’d been on the first line until Jake had shown up. There’d been some animosity at first, but Jake wanted to think they were past that.

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