Page 51 of Falling for the Forward

It’s not a good idea for me to start an actual relationship with Carter, but the thought of him with other women makes me die a little inside.

This is definitely a curveball I don’t know how to deal with. It snuck up on me, but I can’t deny it anymore.

I have a crush on my husband.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Carter

Bash passesme the puck and I make a slap shot toward the net, someone crashing into me and knocking me to the ice before I can see whether it made it in.

The sound of the crowd tells me it did. I push myself out from underneath an opponent’s leg and up from the ice.

I glance over and see that it was Cal Fournier who hit me. That guy’s the least coordinated hockey player I’ve ever known; I have no idea how he managed to land on a pro roster.

My teammates surround me for a celebration. I tap gloves with them, wondering if Suki is watching a broadcast of the game. When I text her after games, she always knows whether we won or lost. If we win, she congratulates me. If we lose, she doesn’t mention the game.

Once I’m back on the bench, I grab a towel and wipe down my sweaty face. Playing against Nashville is always intense. They almost score, Isaac diving in front of the goal and barely making a save.

“Saw your Christmas pictures,” Bash says from beside me. “You and Darling look like a happy couple.”

“Fuck off.”

He laughs. “You gonna be mad at Leo over the pig for the rest of your life?”

“Probably.”

“How big’s it gonna get?”

“Two fifty to five hundred.”

“Holy shit. What are you gonna do?”

I scowl, following the game. “What can I do? The girls love the damn thing.”

“Does it smell?”

“No, pigs are actually clean. If they can’t get to any mud.”

Lucien snarls at one of the new Nashville players, throwing a glove to the ice and punching him in the face in about two seconds flat. The game stops while they trade punches, the opponent putting both arms up in an effort to protect himself.

“Who is that?” I ask Bash.

“Rookie. I don’t remember his name. Weighs about a buck sixty.”

Lucien doesn’t unleash his worst on the kid; after about half a dozen punches, he skates over to the penalty box. The refs congregate to discuss the penalties.

I grab my water bottle and squeeze a shot of water into my mouth.

“What does Suki think about the pig?” Bash asks me.

“She says we can’t get rid of it.”

“You’re stuck with it, then.”

I sigh and shake my head. “I thought we’d be stuck with a twenty-five pound one. This fucker could crush me in my sleep. Or one of the girls.”

“Maybe he needs his own room.”

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