Page 6 of The Puck Chase

What the fuck?

The cocky prick smirks, pressing the weight of his body against me, yet before I can even retaliate, I see the flash of a blue jersey, then the guy is ripped away from me and taken down to the ice. It’s only then I see the number forty-seven spread across my savior’s back, under a very familiar name. Like always, Daemon doesn’t take it easy on the opposing team’s player, ripping off his helmet and smashing his fist into the guy's jaw without pause.

Another player from their team is quick to come to his defense, but as he jumps on Daemon’s back, all it does is make him smile. It’s the only time I ever see him not flinch beneath someone’s touch, like he craves the chaos and pain, and the layers of his uniform finally allow it to be unleashed. The new guy knocks Daemon off his friend, but Daemon is already pushing back against the ice, knocking the guy away from him, and jumping back to his feet.

I spy the refs skating our way, so before Daemon can go for him again, I tug on his jersey, pulling him back from the chaos as more players join the fray, bringing his back to my front.

“Well damn, Forbes, look at you protecting me,” I preen, leaning up so I can speak into his ear, ignoring the roaring crowd behind us. “And you said we weren’t friends.” Of course the prick shoves away from me instantly like he’s allergic to my touch, as the ref calls him for fighting.

“Fuck off, Gray.” he tosses over his shoulder, as he makes his way to the penalty box, and I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face, as I watch him leave the ice.

The game resumes and my smile remains, especially when my best friend scores his goal, throwing us into the lead just in time for the final buzzer. Yet my eyes are firmly on the box that cages our left defenseman and when he meets my stare, I can’t help but shout, “How do I look now, Forbes?” Again I hold out my arms with a wink, only making his frown deeper.

Then I am swarmed by the rest of my team, as we celebrate our first win of the season, and I’m grateful, but still I can’t help but wonder what made Daemon Forbes snap.

It’s a thought that is still plaguing my mind over two hours later, as the party at my house is in full swing. Everyone wanted to celebrate our win with us, and who was I to turn them down? Yet now I’m here and I wish they weren’t, because I am just so sick of everyone’s fake bullshit and congratulations. I rememberback in freshman year how it felt to be showered with attention. I thought everyone wanted to be my friend, fuck was I wrong. It turns out, my skills on the ice are in a higher demand than anything else I have to offer, not that anyone tries to look deeper than that.

Outside of my family and Nova, and maybe even Reign, no one really knows me, not the real me anyway. Sure, they know the hotshot hockey player, and the campus whore, but that’s all they see, and Nova’s words about this year being different float back to me. Maybe that’s my problem, maybe people are only seeing what I want them to see, and not who I really am.

With that in mind I knock back yet another beer, flicking my stare around the room at the party in full swing. My best friend has already abandoned me, and gone to bed after an intimate run in with one of the hockey girls, and the rest of my teammates are spread out across the living room. I’m not sure where to start, so I swipe myself another beer and head towards where Alexander is, in the corner with Daemon and a couple of familiar girls.

“Evening ladies,” I cut in, stepping between the two of them, and Daemon’s stare hardens at my arrival, his shoulders tensing, as he takes a sip of his drink. “What are we talking about over here?”

“Archer, hi,” Georgia, one of the girls purrs stroking my shoulder, and I offer her my signature smile, remembering how many times we have fucked. She’s the devil in disguise just like most of the girls who always surround us, but with enough alcohol intake she is tolerable.

“Hey Gigi,” I wink, and she practically melts into my side.

“We were just talking about that fight at the end of the game, it was awful,” she adds in mock empathy, and I refrain from rolling my eyes at her dramatics.

These girls have been to almost every fucking game and should know that the fight they are referring to was barely a blip on any of our radars. And from the knowing smirk on Alexander’s mouth, he is thinking the same.

“Yeah, man, you’re lucky you didn’t break your neck,” he replies, smirking into his drink, as one of the other girls, Brianna, nods in agreement, cozying up to his side.

Both Brianna and Georgia are regular fixtures at our games and parties, and most of the team would consider them to be the main hockey girls. We’ve all been there with both of them, and they don’t seem to care who they fuck, as long as it’s one of us, and it seems tonight is no different. Usually I don’t enjoy my fucks throwing themselves at me, preferring more of a challenge, but tonight I’m feeling off, and maybe something familiar and easy is exactly what I need. Besides, I can’t begrudge anyone for owning their sexual preferences and going after what they want. Men do it everyday, so why shouldn’t women?

“Yeah, I’m lucky my teammate had my back, aren’t I?” I respond, moving my focus to Daemon, who is now glaring at me intensely.

“Oh my gosh, I know, he’s so brave,” Georgia coos, giving him her best fuck me stare, and for some reason it pisses me off. “I bet your body is sore after that, maybe I could help you feel better,” she adds, and for some reason her words cause an uneasy feeling to flood my body.

Yet before I can say anything, Daemon looks at her blandly, before replying, “No, thank you.” And then he leaves without another word, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter and heading out back.

An uneasy feeling pulses through me, but I shut it down quickly and focus back on the girls. “Well, I don’t know about Alexander, but I’m definitely feeling sore and could use somehelp getting better,” I tell them all with a wink, and the girls share a conspiratorial look.

“You guys still have the hot tub right?” Brianna asks, as I finish off another beer, and the drunken haze is just enough to make her suggestion sound good.

“Why, yes my dear, we do,” Alexander preens, knocking back his own drink, clearly already smashed, and circling his arm around her neck.

“Lead the way then, sixty-nine,” she tosses back with a knowing smirk, and Georgia presses further into my side, and looks up at me in question.

“I hope you’re wearing something slutty for me, under that dress, Gigi,” I say, forcing my tone to sound more interested than I actually feel, as I grab a bottle of something and lead her outside onto the back deck.

“You tell me,” she replies in a sultry tone, ripping off the scrap of fabric she was passing off as a dress to reveal her in nothing but a tiny black thong.

I take a deep swill of what I now realize to be gin, as Brianna also strips off her own dress to reveal just a thong almost identical to her friends, before they both climb into the hot tub and lower themselves into the water, as my teammate reaches behind it to turn it on.

“I told you it was a good investment,” Alexander whispers in a hushed tone, as he rips off his shirt, making the girls bite their lip, and I can’t help but smile.

“You’re totally going to order a new one tomorrow and replace it, right?” I ask, getting rid of my own shirt, as he starts on his pants, and the half-British fucker laughs.

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