Page 20 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

And then there was Miller. The fucker. Grinning at me like the absolute asshole that he was.

“What’s it like jacking off with those tiny hands, Miller,” I called out as the dipstick in question slid to a stop a foot away from me, showering me with a sheet of ice.

“Not a lot of that going on withheraround,” he said cockily—his inference clear, even though any woman who willingly got within five feet of him definitely had something wrong with her.

I rolled my eyes and glanced at the stands as I headed toward a puck…only to almost trip over my skates.

Holy fuck.

I watched as a literal goddess walked down the steps toward the glass. Blinking a few times, I wondered if I was having a hallucination.

Long brown hair with gold streaks in it, she was styled like she’d just walked out of a magazine. She wasn’t wearing a jersey or anything remotely related to hockey. Instead, she had on this sleek, fitted coat like she was at some ritzy event. Everything about her screamed sophistication.

I couldn’t stop staring, I didn’twantto.

“Nowthatgirl knows how to make an entrance,” I muttered, forgetting all about Miller as I stared at her as if I had been hypnotized.

“I’m sure you want to become very familiar with her entrances,” mused Ari, skating up next to me. I reluctantly glanced at him, because that was actually funny, but he wasn’t even paying attention to the goddess. He was staring at Blake, his wife, like usual.

“That was a good one,” said Camden right before he smacked a puck at the net.

Ari snarled, his eyes going wide as he stared at Camden in shock. “Why do you sound surprised at that, Hero? If anyone is funny in this group, it’s me.” He shoved past Lincoln who was staring at Monroe, and Lincoln growled at him.

See, that was why I aspired to be like Lincoln Daniels. He just had it.

“Golden Boy, tell them how funny I am,” demanded Ari as he started stretching.

“It seems like you’re doing a good job of that yourself,” Lincoln muttered, rubbing at where Ari had hit him.

As amusing as they were, I had to look at her again. It was like she had a beacon inside her that was pulling me in.

“I think I’m in love,” I murmured pitifully.

Camden laughed at me, but I wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t stop staring at his girl in the stands. He shouldn’t be laughing at my new obsession.

I’d heard Anastasia call him “Daddy.”

“Tell me I’m not seeing things,” I said, elbowing him so he had to pay attention. Was there a glow around her? It felt like there was, like she was literally shining out among the sea of people.

He ignored me, of course, grabbing a puck and sending a shot at Disney’s head in the goal.

I glanced back at the girl, almost tripping over my skates again.

Miller.

The all-consuming pussy magic around this girl had distracted me for a moment that he still existed.

Miller was standing near the boards, just below where she was now sitting. Like a fucking nightmare unfolding in slow motion, I watched as he leaned an arm against the glass, grinned that smug, shit-eating grin of his, and blew a kiss at her.

The world went silent for a moment and then an unhinged buzz filled my ears. I gripped my stick so tight that I heard a crack. My pulse was hammering, louder than the crowd, louder than the skates cutting across the ice.

“Fuck,” I snarled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I had to literally use all of my willpower not to go after him.

Okay then. So she had really bad taste in men.

I’d just have to fix that for her.

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