Page 67 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

When I stepped outside, a sleek black car idled at the curb, the driver standing beside it in a crisp suit. He opened the door for me without a word, and I slipped inside, the smell of leather and fresh pine greeting me.

The drive to the arena passed in silence, except for the sound of my shoes tapping nervously against the floor as I crossed and uncrossed my legs, fidgeting. Every few minutes, I glanced at my phone, then out the window, then back to my phone. The knot in my stomach tightened the closer we got.

When the car finally pulled up to the arena, the driver stepped out and opened my door. I thanked him quietly and climbed out.

Logan had already sent me my ticket, and I pulled it up on my phone, skimming over the section and seat number. As I walked through the maze of the arena, I slowed when I caught sight of the section I was heading toward.

My steps faltered as I realized where I was sitting—and more importantly,whoI’d be sitting with.

I recognized the women immediately. I’d seen them at the previous games, noticing them because some of the Dallas Knights players were always flirting with them through the glass. I was pretty sure they were wives or girlfriends of Logan’s teammates.

Of course, he would have me sitting by them.

My fingers tightened around my phone as I stepped into the row. One of the women, a gorgeous redhead who looked really familiar, looked up and smiled, her hazel eyes bright. “Oh, hi! You must be Sloane, right?”

I hesitated, my throat dry, that unfamiliar warmth flooding my insides—he’d told them about me…in detail apparently since she’d known what I looked like. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

She patted the seat next to her. “Come on, we don’t bite. I’m Olivia.”

I forced a smile, sliding into the chair…trying not to look like I was freaking out.

“Hi,” a beautiful blonde said from the other side. “I’m Blake. I’m married to that one,” she said, wrinkling her nose as a tall, black-haired—very gorgeous—Dallas player stopped at the glass in front of us. He turned around and started shaking his ass at her, glancing over his shoulder to watch her reaction.

“Go warm up, Lancaster.” She grinned.

“You’re eye-fucking me while I skate, ma’am. A guy is only so strong when the most beautiful girl in the world is giving him the eyes.”

Blake giggled, almost hysterically, as he blew her a kiss before skating away.

“I’d just like to know when you aren’t ‘giving him the eyes,’” a raven-haired woman on Blake’s other side mused.

“You’re probably right,” Blake said, still watching him with a dreamy look on her face.

My gaze went to Logan, who was talking to the Dallas goalie. A weird pang of longing hitting me hard.

Because I wanted that kind of flirty ease with someone—I wanted that withhim.

“That’s mine over there talking to Rookie—sorry, Logan,” Olivia said, distracting me from the thoughts I was not supposed to be having as she pointed to the Dallas goalie.

“I wish you’d brought Isabella,” the ebony-haired woman said, her lips pressed into a pretty pout.

Olivia snorted. “It’s too loud in here, even with those noise-canceling earmuff things. Walker wouldn’t be able to concentrate. He’d be looking over here every few seconds, making sure she was all right. You can come over tomorrow to play.”

“Fine, I’ll try and live without her for a day.” The girl huffed before shooting me a dazzling grin. “Hi, I’m Monroe. I’m married to…” She scanned the ice, her lips turning into a soft smile as a tall, golden-haired, very hot man skated to a stop in front of her and stared at her intensely while he made a heart sign with his hands and pointed to her. “That one,” she whispered, a flush hitting her cheeks as they stared at each other.

I actually knew that player. People had been talking about Lincoln Daniels almost constantly the first three games. Being this close to him…were they feeding the Dallas team something different than everyone else? I’d never seen so many hot guys in one place.

“I think I’m pregnantagainjust from watching you two,” huffed Olivia to Monroe. “I don’t know how you aren’t.”

Monroe giggled and shook her head. “Don’t give him any ideas. Just think of how he’d be if I got pregnant. I’d be sitting here in a full-on bubble with armed guards around me that would be instructed to shoot first, ask questions later.”

A tan beauty with light blond hair giggled next to her. “I think Elaine would be offended if he added more guards,” she said, nodding her head to an intimidatingly strong-looking woman who looked like she could bench-press half the arena…with one hand. “And hi, I’m Anastasia. I’m with number sixty-three, Camden,” she said, pointing to another very attractive guy who was talking to Ari out on the ice.

“Hi,” I said. I bit down on my lip…having so many questions. “You guys have bodyguards?” I finally asked, unable to keep in that one.

“Well, originally the guards were for this one,” Anastasia said, nodding to Olivia. “She’s kind of a big deal.”

Olivia snorted and shook her head. “It was only a matter of time until the others cracked and got some. Did you see how Lincoln was glaring at the popcorn boy the other game? I thought he was going to leap over and grab him!”

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