Page 12 of Puck the Halls

Her steps falter the closer we get to the house. “Are you seriously going through with the hockey tryouts tomorrow?”

Britt may be my oldest and dearest friend, but she will never understand my desperate need to prove myself in the world of hockey. Having grown up with a father who is known around the world as the GOAT of modern-day hockey, with five Stanley Cup championships under his belt, and three brothers who currently rule that same hockey world, I need this.

As a female in a male-dominated sport, I’m relegated to the women’s league, where the competition is good but not at the same level of skill and development I’m used to from my father and brothers training me for all these years.

I transferred to State College so I could anonymously try out and win one of the two open spots on this year’s men’s hockey team tomorrow. My ultimate goal is to finally prove to the doubters that I’m just as good as my famous father and brothers.

“I still don’t think we should just crash the Hockey House party.” Britt stops walking completely and blinks up at the massive house before us.

My eyes wander across the front lawn, and land on a guy walking through the grass. His shoulders are hunched over, and his head is down. When he senses me looking at him, his head snaps up with a fierce frown.

I’d recognize that ruggedly handsome face anywhere. It’s Coulter Collins, one of the three senior co-captains of the men’s hockey team. He’s not my usual type with his long, shaggy hair and beard. Plus, I’ve always stayed away from dating hockey players. But something about how he stares at me makes my heart flutter.

He breaks eye contact first and ducks behind the house, heading for the backyard. I let out a breath, feeling stripped bare by his intense gaze.

“Did you hear what I said, Teagan?”

I drag my gaze away from where he was standing.

“Yes, Britt. You said you can’t wait for your first college party.” I can’t help but tease.

The horrified look on her face is exactly what I needed to get my mind off the handsome hockey player.

“You know that’s not what I said.” She huffs. “I said, what if someone recognizes you?”

The thought had crossed my mind. Since I grew up in a famous hockey family, my face has been plastered all over the world.

“No one is going to recognize me. These guys are all puck heads. All hockey, all the time, with the occasional puck bunny thrown in.”

“You seem to be forgetting the poster every wannabe professional hockey player has on their bedroom wall.”

I cringe, recalling the exact poster she’s talking about. The photo was taken right after my father won his first Stanley Cup. In it, he hoists the trophy in the air, and I’m sitting on his shoulders and leaning forward to kiss the Cup with one eye trained on the camera.

I was only five years old when the photo was taken, but I’ve been told I’m easily recognizable by the rare violet eye coloring I inherited from my father. All my brothers and I share the trait. That’s why I have in my brown-colored contacts tonight.

“Come on. You need to live a little and stop hiding behind your romance novels.”

Britt grunts at me, and I loop my arm through hers, dragging her up the steps to the front door.

“Come on up, ladies,” Fin Baxter, one of the other senior co-captains of the hockey team, calls from the house’s front door. A wide, boyish grin breaks out across his face.

Where Coulter is the shy, quiet type, Fin is the loud, confident player of the team. Rumor has it he has a different puck bunny in his bed every night. Another reason I don’t date hockey players is that there are way too many puck bunnies.

“I can’t let you in without paying the cover charge.” His hand braces against the doorframe, blocking our entrance as his eyes twinkle with mischief.

“How much?” I ask, opening my purse to retrieve the cash I keep for emergencies.

His hand flies to his chest. A mock indignation crosses his handsome face. “I’m shocked you would think I want money from you.”

I roll my eyes at his over-the-top theatrics. “Then what exactly do you want?” I cross my arms over my chest and tap my foot.

“A boon.”

I glance at Britt, and she shrugs.

“Fine,” I say, already regretting my hasty agreement.

“How about a kiss on the cheek from you, fair lady.” He reaches his hand out to Britt, causing a pink blush to creep up her chest and neck onto her cheeks.

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