Page 21 of Pucking Dirty

"Whatley."

I glance up from lacing my skates to see Archer dropping onto the bench beside me, his expression somber. Fuck my life. I've only been on the team for a season, and I already know that look on sight.

He wants to talk.

"You got a minute?" he says right on cue, shaking his gloves off.

"Yep," I sigh, leaning back against the boards behind me. I look out at the ice to see Coach standing on the far side of the practice arena, reaming Logan and Diego for fucking around on the ice. "If you're here to tell me to keep my hands off Emilia…"

Archer glances at me, genuine surprise in his eyes. "Is that what you think?"

"Saw the way you were looking at us when we left the bar," I mutter. "Figured we'd be having this conversation sooner or later."

He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. "You don't know me nearly as well as you think you do, Whatley. I don't give a fuck what the two of you do. It's your business. I'm just here to do my job as Captain and tell you to be careful." He nods at Coach. "There's a reason he guards info about her so closely. That girl isthe center of his world. If things go badly between the two of you, it'll be you who suffers. And if you suffer, we all suffer."

I grit my teeth, resisting the instinctive urge to tell him to fuck off with his warnings and advice. It's not him I'm irritated with anyway. He's just doing what a good captain should do—looking out for his team. I'm not in the right headspace to think about shit ending badly between me and Emilia right now. Not after last night. Not after this morning.

All I've thought about since I climbed out her bedroom window was that look on her face and the way she said she was afraid of losing this, as if it's a foregone conclusion that it'll happen. Is that what she thinks? Clearly, it's what Archer thinks. That Coach will find out, and I'll be forced to choose between her and the team.

Like a good little team player, I'm supposed to choose the team. I'm supposed to choose hockey. That's what I've always done. Choose hockey, put it above everything else. Never let anyone close so I never had to split my focus. Except for after my parents were killed, I've always been all in on this sport.

It doesn't feel right this time. Emilia is in my head in a major way, shifting my priorities in a way that's foreign to me. Now that I've had her, I'm not letting her go. Not for Coach, not for the team, not for any goddamn reason. I'm all in on her, even knowing what I'm risking.

But I can't explain that shit to Archer when I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself. Falling in love wasn't ever on my agenda. My whole life has been hockey and taking care of Aspen. That's what I always wanted.

Until now. Until Emilia.

I'm falling. Like a fucking meteor crashing through the atmosphere.

The fact that she's Lariat's daughter should stop me. The fact that the team is counting on me should be all the deterrent I need to pull back and let it ride. Yet neither is doing the trick.

I want every piece of her, and I don't want to stop.

"It's not going to go badly between us," I mutter to Archer. "In fact, it isn't going to end at all."

His eyes widen before he shakes his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. "So it's like that, huh?"

"Yeah. I think it's exactly like that."

He holds his fist out for me to bump, laughing quietly. "It's your funeral, brother. Just…be smart about it, will you? With you and Logan, we have a real shot at the Cup this year. Don't burn it all down."

"Don't plan on it." I haul myself to my feet, and then pause, glancing down at him. "You ready to hear my advice now?"

He glances up at me with furrowed brows. "Advice about what?"

"You can only pretend you don't feel it for so long," I say. "Eventually, you gotta deal with it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." I cut my eyes at Micah. "Everyone knows how you feel about his sister except him."

"Fuck." Archer goes rigid, scrubbing a hand down his face. "It's not like that, Whatley."

"Yeah, it is." I hop over the boards onto the ice, glancing back at him. "If you don't get off your ass and do something about it, it won't be him you gotta worry about. It'll be some other motherfucker swooping in and putting a ring on her finger when you know damn well it should be yours."

"Jesus Christ," he growls, his jaw clenching.

"Just saying. If it were me, there's no goddamn way I'd be cool watching some other man love her because I was too worriedabout what her brother would say." I glance across the ice at Coach. "Why the fuck do you think I'm willing to risk his wrath for his daughter?"

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