Page 2 of Puck Me Sideways

Cute, Hallie. Real smart, right there.

Solace smirked, though something impossibly dark flickered behind his eyes as he leaned in closer. “You really don’t pay attention to the bullshit out there, do you?” he murmured, sweeping a hand almost triple the size of mine out to encompass the rest of the room where I still refused to look.

I didn’t want to see the faces that wouldn’t look down at me, anyway. Or worse, gawk back at the shitshow that was about to go down.

Heat climbed my throat, heading for my cheeks. I didn’t want to know where it originated, especially when this man had been the centre of too many late night fantasies that should never have been a part of my spank bank repertoire.

Because Solace Hunter was so far out of my league it wasn’t funny. We shouldn’t share the same building, let alone the same breathing space. My fingers shook the tiniest fraction as I pushed my glasses back up my nose where they drooped.

“I don't really fit in over there.” I matched his soft tone, unwilling to bring more attention my way, and doubly unsure why I bothered to engage him.

This conversation wouldn't end well. For me, at least.

For Solace…I was just another girl he’d shrug off. He must have puck bunnies flying out every orifice on a daily basis. Those shoulders could lift a small planet, and he had abs to support everything above that, plus all the accompanying pucking bits…I should know. I got to stare at all the promo shots on a daily basis and make sure everyone’s other bits—titles, names, and stats—were presented correctly.

If perving was a perk, I would rank out in the next employee satisfaction survey on that topic alone. Hell, I probably knew their numbers better than half the players did themselves.

“You’re right.” He didn’t straighten, still invading my space and continued this Godforsaken conversation that headed exactly nowhere. “You don’t fit in there.”

“Exactly. So. Work.” I let out a controlled breath and dropped my gaze back to my desk, shuffling my proofs—yet again—out of order to give myself something to do because whatdida fangirl do when a hulking behemoth mountain of hockey sex god leaned over one’s desk?

Answer: shuffle the proofs like a Vegas card counter, and pray for absolution.

“Like I said, you’re sexier than all of them. Any one of them.” He refused to budge.

I bit my lip, squeezing my eyes shut. “I know you get whoever you want, Solace. I know you have loads of time in the middle of the day between training sessions, and Iknowyou work your ass off. Maybe you could, you know…let me do some of that last right now, too?” I bit back thepleasethat teetered on the tip of my tongue, because begging with this man seemed wrong. Dangerous, even.

His breath huffed against the back of my neck when he laughed softly. “This is what makes you sexy, Hallie. Unlike them, you understand what a work ethic is. It’s fucking beautiful.” His fingers trailed lightly along my spine to my nape beneath my shoulder length dark hair and rested there, the touch hidden from sight to anyone else.Intimate.“Like you. This brain is the prettiest damn thing in here.”

I swallowed hard and pushed my chair back, but his bulk blocked me in. “Let me up,” I breathed, my heart hammering in my chest as the room shrank on me. “We— I’m just the marketing pleb. I can’t do this. I’ll lose my job.”

“You can’t be told you’re beautiful?” He massaged my neck in gentle circles. The callouses and strength in his massive fingers belied by the sweetness of his touch.

My body ached for that touch. Craved it. I hadn’t had contact with another person, anyone actually, apart from my cat, since?—

Nope. Not going there.

“I have an aversion to puck bunnies.” That’s what fell out of my mouth as one of the WAGS headed in our direction. One without a flashy diamond ring on her finger, which, in my limited experience, was the most dangerous sort.

A black Chimera branded coffee mug stamped with her name that I forgot the moment I read it slammed down on my desk along with a few loose strands of bleached, split hair. “Coffee, honey. Black. Nothing in it. Just give me the dregs today. It’s all in the effort of…you know.” She shimmied at my desk while I tried not to look at her.

My chin dipped down in an effort to hide. My camouflage. It’s how I’d survived in the months since I started.Don’t talk to anyone, don’t make eye contact. Pretend you’re not one of them.Because I wasn’t. I made that mistake in my first week on the job, starting out friendly. Hell, did I get an education in all the things I wasnotin those first five working days that made me question my sanity, my entire career plan and my life choices. But I returned the following Monday with a new plan, and I’d stuck to it ever since.

Hence, my survival in my role as not-a-WAG and bottom-line marketing pleb. I sighed, pushed my proofs into an incomprehensible pile that would take half an hour after they all departed to sort back out, and grabbed the Chimeras mug presented to me.

“Sure, Cindy.”

The WAG flared mid-shimmy. “Mynameis–”

“She doesn’t care what your goddamn name is, Mindy,” Solace snapped, corded arms straining beneath his shirt as he braced his fists knuckle first on my desk and towered over both of us.

Now that is a sexy sight.

I mentally added to my spank bank as Cindy-Mindy preened while I cowered. If I played dead, he’d forget I existed, right?

Nope. One inked hand returned to its place on the back of my neck. The fingers tightened when Cindy-Mindy didn’t move from her place before my desk. I stared at the mug, willing everyone to leave. Well, maybe not quiteeveryone. Tension emanated from the Chimera who held me pinned to my desk chair and drew me out of my camouflage-slump.

“Don’t you dare get up,” he growled at me darkly when I trembled like a freaking victim.

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