Page 23 of Pucking Dirty

"Nash!" I hiss, fully aware that everyone in the vicinity is blatantly staring now. I hear them whispering. "You can't take your jersey off in the freaking box!"

He completely ignores me as he strips it off over his head and then straightens, crooking a finger at me.

I briefly consider ignoring him, but the look in his eyes tells me I'll pay for it if I do. I leap from my seat like the damn thing is on fire, stepping up against the Plexiglass off to the side so we have the semblance of privacy.

He skates over and tosses the jersey over the top to me. "Put it on, baby girl."

"You're out of control, do you know that?" I grumble, snatching the jersey as it falls over this side of the glass. "You're risking a frigging penalty just to get me in your jersey."

He smirks, the devil in his eyes. "Wouldn't be an issue if you'd worn the jersey I sent you. You going to put it on?"

"Maybe. Maybe I'll burn it to keep myself warm." I shrug, scowling at him. "Undecided."

His smirk grows. "You're cute when you're pissed, Emilia."

"And you're not cute when you're being ridiculous."

"Really? Is that why you're staring at me like you want to climb over here and climb me right now?"

"Am not," I lie.

"Yeah, you are." He places his palm against the glass between us, sighing. "You going to wait for me after the game?"

"Maybe. Maybe my dad will strangle you before it ends and I'll be attending your funeral instead." That's a very real possibility right now. There's no way he's not going to find out about this.

"Maybe I should climb over there and climb you." Nash arches a brow, glancing behind me. "Think there are any reporters in the audience right now willing to document the show, princess?"

"Probably. I bet you could even make a few dollars off it. I mean, since you'll need a job after you've finished destroying your career and everything," I say sweetly, batting my lashes. "But go ahead. Do your thing, big guy."

"Do not tempt me right now, Emilia," he growls, his gaze tangling with mine. "I haven't seen you in two days. I'm ready to snap."

I soften like melted freaking butter when I see the look in his eyes. He missed me.

"I'll wait for you, Nash," I say softly, unable to resist him. As if I ever stood a freaking chance. "Will you please go put a jersey on now before my dad sees you and there is bloodshed before the horn even sounds?"

"Fine." He smirks at me. "But just so you know…I like it a helluva lot better when you're trying to get me out of my clothes. You trying to get me back into them is not working for me."

"We can't all have what we want, Whatley."

"Oh, we can." He sends me a look hot enough to scorch the freaking earth. "All you gotta do is say the words." He winks and then turns and skates toward the tunnel, leaving me standing there, reeling.

"I should have brought extra panties to this game," I mumble, yanking his jersey on over my head before I turn to scurry back to my seat. I already need them.

The wives and girlfriends are completely silent as I squeeze past. Alice is not. As soon as I drop into my seat beside her, she turns to me, her grin reflecting in her hazel eyes.

"Girl," she says, drawing the word out.

"I know," I groan, scrubbing my hands down my face. "I am so screwed."

"By Nash Whatley from the looks of it." Her wicked laugh spills out around us…and I can't help but smile. She has no clue just how right she is.

"My dad is going to murder him when he ends up in the box for this."

"I'm already all over it."

I blink at her.

"I told everyone that you're the newest staff member, and this is your first game. The guys are trying to make sure you feel welcome, same as they do with everyone else." She shrugs, smiling brightly. "Can't do anything about him ending up in the box, but if you mix in enough truth while stretching it, it usually works for avoiding gossip."

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