Page 6 of Ice Bet

“That’s not true.”

My fingers stopped undoing the laces of my skates. I didn’t have to look up to see that it was Sully who argued. His voice was nails on a chalkboard.

“What isn’t true?” someone asked in between shutting a locker.

“Ry not liking hockey players. She used to date a hockey player.”

He calls her Ry? What are they, fucking besties?

I suppressed a growl. “And how exactly do you know that?”

Sully's chuckle rubbed me the wrong way. I cursed Coach for propositioning me and leaving me no choice but to agree to being Riley’s handler. If it weren’t for our covert conversation, I wouldn’t have cared. “Do any of you know where Riley used to go to school? Before transferring here?”

The answer was obvious by the haughty sound of his voice. “Rosewood.”

Of fucking course.

My teammates broke out into hushed conversations, but there was one question that snagged my ear. “So what? Have you tapped that or something?”

Suddenly, it felt like I was the prey and Sully was the predator. “No. But I know her type.”

The collective, “Ooh,” provoked an eye roll from me.A bunch of idiots who weren’t focused on hockey even in the slightest.

“So, it’s settled, then. She’s into hockey players.”

No, she isn’t. She better not be.

“Let’s see who can tap that first. Winner gets to fuck Leon’s mom.”

“What the fuck?” Leon came barreling out of the steamy showers like a wild animal. He took the towel off his hips and zeroed in on Nate. The sound of a wet towel on skin sliced through the stuffy locker room. My teammates laughed, and I walked away before I got too riled up by their talk.I was headed toward the door, rounding the last set of lockers when I paused. Their conversation was hushed, but I had excellent hearing.

“Winner getsher.There’s no need for anything else.”

For fuck’s sake.

“Let’s make an ice bet.”

I stayed hidden and cursed under my breath. Anice betwas the oldest trick in the book. It was an unwritten tradition that I had thought died down butapparentlynot. It was considered hazing, and not only did Coach have a no-hazing rule, but Bexley U itself had a zero-tolerance policy for it. My heart picked up speed the longer I listened.

“So it’s settled. Whoever gets to her first, wins.”

“But you have to do so without Coach finding out.”

“Obviously. We will all keep it on the down low.”

“Are we talkin’ sex or what?”

“We should do a point system.”

“The hotter the act, the more points you get.”

They laughed while I silently teetered between my choices. I listed them off quickly in my head and grew more irritated with each stupid remark from my teammates. Coach had no idea that putting a no-touch rule on his daughter would be like dangling a piece of steak in front of hound dogs. He also had no idea that I would quickly grow to resent her for taking up space in my head that wasn’t reserved for her.

The obvious choice would be to tell Coach about the little hazing activity,butthere was a problem with doing something like that:the team.

Bexley U was number one in our division. We were elite, and although there were leadplayers on every team, we all worked together on the ice to secure a win. We had a good relationship and an even better team dynamic. Tattling on my teammates—Sully in particular because he was the one who started it—would ruin that in a heartbeat, because if Coach didn’t kill him with his bare hands, he’d definitely kick him off the team for poor morals and hazing. Then I’d be the team pariah for fucking up our chances at the Frozen Four, thus ruining my future and everyone else’s. It was a snowball effect that I wanted no part in.

The other choice—and the one I was happily replaying in my head—was to knock Sully’s teeth out.

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