Page 37 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

“Not a fucking chance,” he answered with a smirk, his attention glued to where Walker had just made a save.

As the game went on, we kept pressing. The intensity on the ice was ramping up, but my head was clearer than it had been in Game One. No stupid penalties, no getting sucked into Miller’s crap. I had one goal in mind—score again and make sure Sloane was impressed.

Late in the second period, we got another break. Lincoln passed it up the boards to Camden, who fired a stretch pass right to my tape. I broke free, flying down the wing with a Tampa defenseman on my heels. The goalie came out to challenge, but I snapped the puck over his blocker, top shelf, right where Grandma hides the cookies.

The horn blasted, and I felt that rush again.

I didn’t even think about it. I skated straight to where Sloane was sitting, banging on the glass again. The noise was deafening, but all I saw was her—her wide eyes, the way she couldn’t stop watching me now.

Another kiss blown through the air. Another blush from her. And another victory for me.

“Three more,” Lincoln yelled, his fist raised in the air.

Evidently, scoring goals was much more effective than fighting when it came to getting under Miller’s skin. I’d outscored him five to one in college, but he’d always had the misguided notion we were competitors. Currently, his face was beet red under that helmet, and I could tell he was just waiting for an excuse to snap.

I gave him one.

Late in the third, with the score still tight, I saw my chance. Miller had the puck and was skating up the ice, trying to make a move. I was on him in an instant, sticking close. He didn’t see it coming when I reached out, subtly clipping his skate with my stick, just enough to send him tumbling forward, arms flailing as he face-planted onto the ice. The crowd gasped, and I could feel the laughter bubbling up from the bench.

He looked like an absolute idiot.

I couldn’t help but laugh, catching the look of fury on his face as he scrambled to get up. His teammates were losing it.

“You’re not very good at this,” I chirped, smirking as I passed by him.

“Fuck you, York,” he spat, but I just waved him off.

Miller could hate me all he wanted. I’d already won. I didn’t need to throw punches tonight to get under his skin. This was better—way better.

As the clock wound down, I felt the satisfaction building inside me. I’d done my job. I’d scored twice, humiliated Miller, and, most importantly, I’d made sure Sloane couldn’t take her eyes off me. Every time I passed her section, I could see her watching, her expression torn between shock and something else.

Something that made my chest tighten in a way I wasn’t used to.

The final horn blew, and the game ended with a win for us. The arena roared in celebration, but I was already skating toward the glass, towardher. I banged my fist against the boards one last time, my eyes locked on hers, and blew her the biggest, most obnoxious kiss of the night.

This time, she smiled. She tried hiding it immediately behind her hand, but it didn’t matter. She’d definitely smiled.

And I swear, that smile was worth every second of the game.

As I celebrated with my teammates, I had a big grin on my face. One step closer to making that girl mine.

CHAPTER9

SLOANE

Tyler was supposed to be walking into the locker room, but instead he was gesturing for me to come over to where an employee was opening the door that led down to the ice again. Taking a deep breath, I quickly walked over, dread filtering through every step. As soon as I was at the entrance, Tyler’s hand gripped my arm tightly, pulling me toward him before I even realized what was happening. “Don’t forget who owns you this week,” he growled.

I barely had time to blink before his lips crashed down on mine.

The kiss was all wrong. His mouth was cold, his grip possessive. It wasn’t soft, it wasn’t tender—it was a claim, a message to the world.

A message to Logan.

I tried to pull back, but Tyler’s hand tightened around my waist, forcing me closer. My heart raced, panic threading through my veins as the crowd around us seemed to go still. I could feel them watching, the weight of their stares pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. Whispers started behind me.

Logan had already brought unwanted attention to me…and now Tyler was making it worse.

I could only imagine what everyone was thinking.

---