Page 68 of Dirty Pucker

God, he’s killing me with that quiet protectiveness he’s emanating.

The longer I look at him, the more that ache inside of me builds and builds.

I need to talk to him about what happened at the game tonight…

But I can’t. He doesn’t know that I know I’m the reason he went after Owen. And I don’t want to betray Sophie’s trust when she asked me not to say anything.

So I sit there, my entire body buzzing to grab Del so I can talk to him, so I can tell him how much it means that he stood up for me, that he made that jerk Owen pay for talking about me in such a gross way.

But before I can do or say anything, Del stands up.

“I’m tired. I’m gonna head back to the room,” he says, yanking his tie loose.

He walks out of the lounge and disappears into the hotel lobby.

Chapter 24

Del

When the elevator doors glide open, I step out and walk in the direction of the hotel room I’m sharing with Blomdahl.

I exhale sharply as I yank my tie all the way loose. I undo the top two buttons of my dress shirt.

My body tenses with each step I take. I didn’t want to leave the hotel lounge. But all I was doing while I was down there was staring at Ingrid. I probably looked like a fucking weirdo.

But I couldn’t help it. I needed to see that she was okay, that she was happy and didn’t know what Owen had said about her.

She looked like she was having a good time with Maya and Sophie. Plus, the guys on the team were there. No one would try and bother Ingrid, or any of them, while an entire team of hockey players was standing around them.

So I figured the best thing for me was to just leave and let them all have a good time.

I’m standing outside the door of my room, digging into my pocket for the key card when I hear someone call my name.

“Del! Wait!”

I look up, surprised to see Ingrid jogging toward me.

She stops, then bends down to take off the strappy black heels she’s wearing. She picks them up and walks over to me.

I glance down at her bare feet. “Shoe problems?”

She lets out a soft laugh. “They’re not the best to run in.” She bites her lip and hesitates for a second.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She takes a breath. “I know what Owen said about me on the ice. And I know that’s why you slammed him into the boards.”

My stomach churns. “Ingrid, I’m sorry.”

Her delicate brow furrows in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t want you to know what that asshole said about you. It was so awful.”

She grabs my hand in hers. “It was. And that’s why it means so much that you stood up for me. Thank you.”

I frown. “You don’t have to thank me, Ingrid.”

She bites her bottom lip. She’s quiet for a second. “Why’d you do it?”

---