Page 2 of Power Play

“Do you know that girl?” I ask Thompson. My eyes are glued to the bubbly blonde. Her ponytail shakes when she breaks into giggles.

“The blonde?”

I nod, not glancing at him.

“Nope. Maybe a freshman?”

“Maybe.”

I continue observing the girl while Colton focuses on his phone. Her tiny jean shorts make it really hard to look at anything other than her round ass. And what a view it is.

Pushing myself away from the table, I stand up and head toward her. I get there right as the barista sets an iced coffee on the counter. Well, today can still be my lucky day after all.

“Hey, beautiful.” I block her path when she turns around. Her big brown eyes, framed with dark eyelashes, meet my gaze, and for a second, she appears confused. Then her mouth eases into a smile, flashing two dimples on her cheeks. Her skin is smooth and radiant, with a golden tan, her puffy lips coated in some colorless lip balm. She’s a real beauty, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know her. “I haven’t seen you here before, so I thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” she says. Her lips curl around the straw, and she takes a sip of her drink. It suddenly becomes a little too hot in this air-conditioned space and a lot too tight in my jeans.

Fuck me.

“I’m Clay,” I tell her, hiding my hands in my pockets.

The corners of her mouth tremble, and then a full-blown smile blooms on her face. “I know.”

“You know who I am?”

“You’re the Panthers’ goalie,” she says.

“Love hockey?”

“I do. I went to a Stanley Cup Final with my folks in June. It was epic. Vegas deserved their win after the hardest playoffs in years.”

I don’t particularly agree, but who fucking cares? A gorgeous girl with tits to die for and an ass so fine I’m dying to have my hands full of it talking about hockey? Am I still dreaming?

“There’s a little party tonight?—”

She chuckles. “I know.”

I blink and scratch the back of my neck. How does she know? It’s for the hockey team and their guests. Maybe there’s another party I have no idea about?

“You sure we’re talking about the same one?” I ask.

The girl nods. “Absolutely. Someone from the hockey team invited me.”

Hell nah. This is bullshit. I saw her first.

“Who?”

“He’s big and tall, with brown hair. I don’t remember his name.” She sips her drink again, eyes glistening with mischief. “But I agreed to come.”

Dammit.

I place my hand over my heart, and my lips fall downward as I scoff. “You just broke my heart.” She bites her bottom lip, trying to suppress her growing smile. “I’ve never seen anyone as gorgeous as you are. God is probably looking everywhere for you.”

“God?” She lowers her cup, holding it tight between her palms. A silver ring on her pinkie catches my attention, and I dip my head slightly. Is it a butterfly?

“The most beautiful angel ran away from heaven. Of course he’d want you back,” I say with all the seriousness I can manage. It’s the corniest line I’ve ever used on a girl. But what else can I do if I want her to consider me instead of my teammate who invited her to the party? I need her to remember me.

The girl blinks and then bursts out into giggles. Her head is thrown back, and my eyes involuntarily travel down the delicate column of her throat. The urge to trace my fingers over her skin is strong, but I’m holding myself back. She’d think I was a creep if I did that.

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