Page 31 of The Puck Secret

“Relax, Hals, I just need to throw on some clothes.” I gesture to my hair and makeup, which despite my reservations about going tonight, is already done.

She still keeps a scold on her face, but I see her shoulders drop in relief. “Well, hurry up and get ready, I want to be there early.” I smile, putting my phone away and slipping off the stool as I head towards her.

Hallie has come out of her shell a bit more lately, and I’m not naive, I know it’s because of Archer. Before him, she had the same circle of friends she always had, including me and Josh. She made a couple more freshman year, and apart from a few people she speaks to from class, she usually keeps to herself. It’s just how she is, but since striking up a friendship with the flirty hockey player she seems lighter.

It’s nice to see her let someone else in, to open up to someone and have the respect she deserves from them. It’s also nice for someone to get to know her and realise how amazing she is. Josh has questioned me about their friendship, he seems pissed about it, but I know he just doesn’t want me or Hallie getting involved with anyone off the team. That makes me think about the fact that I am going to see Nova tonight, but hopefully I will just be able to blend easily into the crowd.

Dropping a kiss to Hallie’s cheek, I brush past her and head upstairs to get ready, it’s only a home game so I don’t need anything fancy. I grab one of Josh’s spare Hockey shirts he gave me, our name Peters across the back, and pair it with black ripped jeans, and boots. I throw a jacket on top of it so I’m not cold in the rink, and with my makeup done, and my hair down in loose curls, I look nice enough for a Friday night game.

When I head back downstairs to Hallie, she is texting on her phone, her fingers flying across the screen quickly, but when she hears me coming she quickly puts it away.

“Who are you texting?” I ask, knowing her well enough to see a secret as clear as day on her face.

“Oh, it’s just Archer, he was asking if I am coming to the game, that’s all.” Her voice goes up at the end, which usually indicates she is lying, and when she avoids my eye contact, I know she is hiding something. “Come on, Wendy, let’s go and have some fun.”

Deciding not to drink, I drive us over to the arena, and I force Hallie to stop for food in an attempt to delay us, but by the time we get to the game, we are still early. Hallie smiles as if that’s exactly what she wanted, and much to my dismay, we manage to snag seats near the front again. Instead of being excited like she clearly is, I feel a nervous energy burning through my veins as we wait for the stadium to fill up and the game to start.

By the time the players start coming out onto the ice to warm up, I am a wreck, picking at the skin on my fingers to try and curb my anxiety at the thought of seeing him. When he finally hits the ice, I spy him almost immediately, now more familiar with his frame than I ever was before, and I can’t help but stare as he moves into his pregame routine. I watch him as he glides effortlessly along the ice, skating and spinning with ease, like nothing else in the world matters to him at this moment. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, I’ve been watching Josh skate since we were kids, but there is just something different about watching Nova.

Josh is the first to spot us, catching my eye as he skates around the rink, and then circling back to wave at us. As we wave back I feel eyes on me, and when I flick my stare to the left I find Nova watching us, watching me. I swear I can see his smug smile from here, and I wish I could say it didn’t affect me. I wish I could say I still can't feel the ghost of it against my most intimate body part, but that would make me a filthy little liar.

I can barely tear my eyes away from him, and by the time the game is getting ready to start, I can feel myself consumed by him. When he steps up to the middle for the face-off, I see a calm settle over him, like being on the ice is part of him like nothing else is. He is focused, prepared, lethal, and when the game starts he wastes no time in dominating the ice and the players. All of the Flyers are great players, they make a good team, but just watching Nova you can see why he was chosen for Captain, why the coach picked him to lead. He was born for this game, made for that title, and he wears it with pride.

The first period of the game runs smoothly, there are no goals scored, and surprisingly no fights started either. In the second there are three goals in quick succession, one from Nova, one from Archer, and one from the opposing team. In the final period I am more focused on my brother, when Josh is on the ice there always tends to be more fights, just for the simple fact of who he is. Everyone always seems to want to get one up on the Mayor’s son. They know who he is, who I am, and it makes him an easy target for baseless insults.

I guess this game is no different, because I can see one of the players hounding him around the ice. It’s clear he keeps shouting something at him. I can’t hear the words over the crowd, but I can see the way Josh’s shoulders keep tensing under every word. When he skates close by me with the player on his heels we lock eyes and I give him a reassuring nod. The other player notices and I see his smirk, nothing like the one Nova gave me earlier, and I flip him off without regret. The next words that he directs to Josh, he does so while keeping his eyes on me and biting his lip. I see fury in my brother’s eyes, but it doesn’t get time to fester before another player is slamming into the guy in unrestrained fury.

The number nineteen is easily recognizable across his back, as Nova forces him to the ground and jumps on top of him. More players join the fray as Archer intercepts someone about to jump on Nova’s back, and Josh slams into another guy. By the time the refs tear them all apart, they are all a little bloody and bruised, but given Nova started it, he is the only one sent into the penalty box. He gets five minutes in the sin bin and with only four minutes left on the clock, the other team are left with a power play to try and dominate us.

I watch him stalk off the ice, flicking my eyes back to Josh, who is also staring after Nova until he turns his attention back to me. He doesn’t move until the game resumes, and I can’t help but feel a sense of responsibility as I try and work out what the hell just happened. “What was that all about?”

My question is meant more for myself, but Hallie answers me anyway. “I think Nova Darkmore just claimed you.” Her face is nothing but delighted as she makes that statement, and I feel the need to punch her.

“Please, we don’t even like each other,” I scoff, the lie tasting sour in my mouth.

Hallie rolls her eyes, “Whatever you say, Wendy.” She shrugs. “Besides, you don’t have to like him to angry fuck him”

I almost choke on my tongue when my innocent best friend throws down that gauntlet, as I watch her eyes dance across the guys still on the ice. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” I tease, but she just rolls her eyes again and keeps her focus on the game.

My focus should also be on the game, on whether we can keep our lead, but my eyes stray to the box where Nova is already watching me. I get déjà vu from the last time I saw him there, but this time there is no playful smile, or flirting taunt. No, instead there is nothing but pure possession burning in his gaze as he stares at me. I feel it crawl over my skin like a disease I should want to escape from, but the searing intensity does nothing but make me squirm. He sees it, I know he sees it, because that possession turns to lust as his eyes darken and we get lost in each other.

There is no crowd, no game, no hate. Just us and our fucked up little game that I’m not even sure I know how to play anymore. Yet still my attention remains on him until the seconds on the clock run down, and the buzzer echoes around the arena. We won the game, but I think I might have lost something else in the process, and I’m not sure how to get it back, or if I even want to.

Madeline Peters is the bane of my fucking existence. I hate her, I fucking despise her, and that was never a problem. Yet now, not only do I hate her, but I know what she tastes like. I know what her tongue feels like gliding along my cock, what her pussy feels like clenching against my fingers, and I know that hate fucking her into oblivion is inevitable. I know all of that, yet when I heard that fucking piece of shit Warriors player saying he would fuck her like the slut she is to Josh, I saw red.

I don’t even know what happened. One minute I was skating past them, eyes focused on the puck and the game, and the next I was on top of him, his blood pouring beneath my fists as I fucked him up. There has always been this need inside of me when it comes to her, but it was the need to taunt her, degrade her, humiliate her, hate her, now it’s something entirely different. Now I want grip my hands in her hair and watch her choke on my cock again, tongue fuck her cunt until she moans my name. Fuck, all I can think about is that tight little pussy bouncing on my dick and clenching around it like she did my knuckles. Dirty, filthy, forbidden thoughts that have no right being in my mind, yet I can’t erase them, nor can I erase her taste from my tongue.

The shower water scalds my body as I wash the blood and sweat from my skin. The rest of the guys are laughing and joking around me, rejoicing in another win, and I am proud of them, but I can’t join them right now when my inner turmoil is sending me into a spiral. That and the fact Josh fucking Peters hasn’t stopped glaring at me since we skated off the ice. He’s being more annoying than usual, and I am two-seconds away from asking him what his fucking problem is.

Coach already called me out on the way in here about fighting again, and I apologizedagain, promised it won’t happen in future. We both know it’s bullshit, but he always has my back, he’s one of the only people I can count on to always be straight with me. The rest of the guys patted me on the back for fucking up the other guy’s face, he had to be sent off after our spat, but none of them knew what made me snap.

None of them except him.

Josh is still fucking staring at me, even after I finish my shower, get dry and start getting dressed. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me, assessing me, looking for a weak spot he is never going to find. I don’t have one, yet still he searches for it, waiting for a reaction that I am not in the mood to give him.

When a few of the other guys start to clear out and I am packing my bag, his silence finally breaks. “What the hell was that?” his tone is filled with loathing, and I feel the attention around us shift as the few remaining players halt their movements.

Archer is beside me on the left, and Reign is to my right, Josh is on the other side of the bench in the center, and Daemon Forbes still lingers on the corner. All four of them have their eyes on me, watching, waiting. I finish tossing my stuff into my bag, not faltering under his question, as I place my skates on the top and zip it up.

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