Page 11 of Major Penalty

“I have an appointment with the new PTA today,” Stone’s voice reaches me. “You think you can dislocate my shoulder or something so I can go see her more often?”

“Only if you fuck up my knee. Let’s see who gets to ask her out first.” Davidson laughs.

It takes a second for it to hit me. The heat is low in my chest, curling slow and tight. Irritation. I rip a strip of tape off my wrist. The sting barely registers. I keep my head turned and act like I don’t hear them, but my pulse is already hammering.

They’re talking about her again. She’s only been here a few days, and they’re already fucking drooling.

I have no right to feel this way. I don’t even know her. Yet, I know I do. I know that face has crossed my path, but the memory slips through my fingers every time I try to grab it.

The way the guys talk about her like she’s something for them to pass around, something to fantasize about in the showers, makes my fingers itch to grab the nearest hockey stick and bust it over their heads.

Rowan catches the shift in my face.

“What’s up with you?” He leans in, studying me.

“Nothing.” I shake my head.

But Damien’s smirking now. Because he sees it, too, and when he speaks, it’s like he’s testing me. Pushing buttons he knows he shouldn’t.

“All of us are gonna have to go through Mathews assistant for our physical exams.”

The words punch through me, straight to the gut. The image of the guys in her office, her small hands on their bodies, assessing their injuries, talking to them in that soft, warm voice. Something snaps tight in my chest.

I don’t react outwardly. I just exhale sharply and slam my locker shut. But my blood fucking boils.

Because they’re right. She’s cute. No, she’s fucking gorgeous. But that’s not the problem. The problem is the way I noticed the second she walked in. The problem is the way her scent lingered long after she was gone. The problem is that when I see her again, I already know I’ll want to rip her away from every single one of these motherfuckers before they get the chance to touch her.

Her beauty is blinding, but it’s the feeling that’s fucking killing me—this goddamn déjà vu. The more I look at her, the more I feel this pull, and I hate it. I need to know why her face looks like a fucking ghost from my past. And that’s a dangerous fucking problem to have.

I’m on the leather bench near the stretching rooms, pulling off a strip of tape to wrap around my knee. I usually shower and go home after practice, but I have more excess energy than usual today. It’s nothing an hour of boxing can’t get rid of.

I sense her before I see her, striding into the gym area with her tablet in her hands. She’s dressed in a baby-blue set today, and it takes a great deal of will not to drag my gaze over her.

“Hey! Do you have a minute?” she asks, her voice sweet and melodic.

I look up at her and straighten my back.

“I need to schedule your physical exam,” she says, her tone almost apologetic. “I already talked to the other guys, but I can work around your schedule. When are you available?”

I exhale sharply, my eyes drifting to an empty space in front of me. My hip’s fucked. Not enough to keep me off the ice, but enough that I don’t want anyone knowing. They’ll bench me for the rest of the regular season, and I can’t afford that. I can’t afford to disappoint Coach Brown. I have to be useful to him. It’s the least I can do. If I’m injured badly, he won’t need me. And if he doesn’t need me, he’ll…

“I’ll see,” I say flatly, shaking off the thought.

“You don’t need to be examined?” She shifts on her feet, raising a skeptical brow.

“Didn’t say that.” I keep my eyes on the tape in my hands.

I definitely need to be examined for the obscene thoughts running through my mind each time I look at you, little thing.

“Want help with that?” She shifts closer. Her scent hits me first, light and sweet.

“I can manage.” I don’t look up. I’ve been doing this myself for years.

She laughs softly—a quiet, sweet laugh. I hate how much I like the sound of it.

Then she snatches the tape from my hand. I go still, my eyes following her hand. Did she just take my tape from me? No one does that. What’s the deal with this girl? She wasn’t even able to look at me without shivering earlier, but now she’s taking my tape.

My jaw ticks as I look up at her. Big, bright eyes. Long, dark hair. Small upturned nose. Lips that belong somewhere far from this room, far from me.

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