Page 17 of Puck of the Irish

“Well, hell, maybe I’ll call float guy then. Maybe he’ll get my mind off Rizzo and his giant co?—”

“Ok, ok, come on, you,” she cuts me off with a laugh. “Let’s go grab Bobby and head down to the game.” It's a big one tonight, sure to be a total gongshow, and I'm excited to get down there. Maybe watching Rizzo be an absolute menace on the ice will distract me from thoughts of him in other places…but I know deep down it'll just make me want him more. He's sexy when he plays, plain and simple. The cocky confidence, the buttery smooth way he flies over the ice, the way he handles the puck…It's hot, ok?

Hattie laces her arm through mine and we head out of her office. She leans in and adds in a low voice, “But, uh, explain exactly what you mean bygiant...”

I huff out a laugh as Bobby joins us.

“What are we laughing about?”

“Hattie here wanted all the dirty details about a certain star center’s, uh, equipment.”

His brows fly upward but then his lips curl into a slow smile.

“Well, get on with it then. Share with the class, Natalie.”

I probably shouldn’t kiss and tell, but I give in and hold out my hands a good bit apart, palms facing each other to show them a measurement.

“You’re shittin’ me,” Hattie says, eyes wide and mouth open in shock and horror—and definitely some intrigue.

“You know, I’d heard rumors, but having them confirmed by a reputable source…” I punch Bobby in the arm and he grins.

“Would you two hurry up? We’re going to miss the best part of the entire night: pre-game stretching.”

Ten

RIZZO

I don’t knowif I’m happy that Nat turned me down, annoyed that she turned me down, or horrified that I’d even asked her out at all. A combination of all three, I guess. I try to push thoughts of Nat and dating and everything else out of my head and focus on the upcoming game. This one is always a rough one. Once upon a time, a baby-faced Rizzo and Shep both got recruited by the Kodiaks out of college—and then proceeded to both leave them for the Vipers at the same time a few years later. Some of the guys decided to take it personally and ever since then have made a point to make this game as violent and bloody as possible. It’s stupid really, but hockey players—all athletes actually—are nothing if not dramatic.

My phone buzzes and I pull it out, hoping to see a text from Nat, but smile all the same when I see it’s from my mom. I open up the message and snort.

Mom: Good luck tonight! Go Vipers!

lol thanks, ma. Love you.

Mom: Light the lamp. Be safe. Love you.

“You ready?” Shep asks, punching me in the shoulder. I toss my phone in my locker and turn to face him.

“Hell yeah. I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”

He grins. “Does that have anything to do with you leaving the bar last night with Nat?”

“For the last time, nothing happened.” Nothing much, anyway. Apparently Mac had spilled the beans that Nat and I were the last to leave the bar and was conjecturing her little southern heart out. “I drove her home. She went inside. I went to my place and passed out—alone. End of story.” He gives me a skeptical look, but I’m saved from further conversation by coach calling for our attention. He gives us our pre-game speech and then I put in my ear buds, cranking my Game Day Playlist and getting in the zone.

It’s fucking go time.

The game is more brutal than usual, emotions running extra high for some reason. Fights break out every few minutes, the penalty box pretty much stays occupied, and I’ve already scattered Figgy’s chicklets across the fucking ice. Well worth the time in the box for that one—Martin Figueroa was a prick a decade ago and he’s an even bigger one now, getting in cheap shots and talking so much trash it’s insane, and not just the typical stuff. Real vile, uncool shit. Not to mention there arerumors he doesn’t like to take no for an answer from women, so honestly he deserves a lot worse than having his teeth knocked out.

It's back and forth all night, blueline to blueline and back again. Shep is doing damn work in the net to keep us up by four, but the game is intense as hell. Another fight breaks out and while they get it broken up, I skate by the glass where Nat, Mac, and Bobby are sitting. I smile at Nat and I swear she bites her fucking lip as she watches me go by. And now my cock is trying to join the game.Damn this woman…

I shake myself, focusing back on the game. If we can just hold them a bit longer, we’ll be golden.

“Ah fuck!” I yell as a couple of Kodiaks make a break towards our goal. Jules and Roman are hot on their heels though, skating like bats out of hell, and I’m not far behind. Shep is ready, waiting with that intense, almost scary focus he has. He’s like a big cat or a snake waiting to pounce on their prey, sitting so silent and still until the last possible second, and then it’s all over.

And then someone goes down, causing a massive five-guy dog pile that careens towards Shep at top speed. I tense as they get closer, knowing it’s going to be one hell of a collision. They slam into Shep and there’s a tangle of bodies shoving the goal backwards across the ice. I wince at the hit, knowing that it has to hurt…but then I see a helmet fly across the ice and my heart clenches, sending spikes of fear through me.

It’s Shep’s helmet…and he’s not moving.

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