Page 48 of Faking It with the Forward

From the minute we hit the ice Coach works us during practice in a way that you’d think we lost by four instead of won. “Now isn’t the time to get content. That was one game. We have three preseason games left and then an entire season. I don’t want you just to win. I want you flawless.” He slams his fist on his clipboard. “Let’s get on the ice and set the tone that gets us to the playoffs!”

While Coach busts our balls on the ice, I’m aware of Twyler behind the bench the whole time. She’s busy, splitting her time between basic tasks like handing out water or ice packs and assessing any injuries from the first game. Pete’s still paranoid about his ankle and Kirby’s nose is a fucking disaster. His whole face is purplish-green, and Coach Green makes him sit out, adhering to concussion protocol.

I try my best not to focus on her.

Tryandfail.

If she’s aware of me, it’s impossible to tell. Not once does she look up from her work to find me on the ice. That doesn’t stop me from obsessing over how her dark hair is pulled up and she’s got on her ratty old hoodie and joggers. Now that I know what she looks like half-naked—smooth skin, nice sized tits, a pussy that cradles perfectly between my thighs—I want to peel off the rest of the layers and explore what’s underneath.

“Cain!” A puck skitters a foot away, snapping me out of my daydream. “Get your head out of your ass and start the play!”

By the time Coach has us skating lines, I’m dripping with sweat and my entire body aches. I rest my hand on my back as we skate off the ice and head down the tunnel.

“Is your back still bothering you?” she asks, finally acknowledging me when I lumber past. I don’t miss the wrinkle of ill-placed guilt in her eye. “Do you need me to check on it?”

“Maybe later, Sunshine,” I say quietly, giving her a wink that elicits that pretty shade of pink I’m starting to imagine running down every inch of her body. She doesn’t bother responding, but I see the small curve on her lips as she turns away.

Yeah, later is when I’m going to kiss the hell out of that mouth again.

Except ‘later’ is cockblocked, or maybe mouthblocked?, by Coach Bryant. He has us hit the showers and then orders us into the media room, the film from the prior game already queued up. There’s a collective groan, no one wanting to spend their Sunday afternoon replaying mistakes. Coach Bryant is on fire, going on and on, like he’s channeling a preacher in the front of a packed church. We’re held captive, going through replays of the video, until Kirby’s stomach churns so loud the whole room hears it.

“Alright,” Coach says, annoyed that we require things like food and have homework to do, “we’ll call it a day. See everyone here tomorrow afternoon. On time. No excuses.”

“Dinner?” Jeff asks, hitching his bag over his shoulder. “Dining hall is still open.”

“Uh…” I’m distracted by the text I’m attempting to compose for Twyler. “Give me a minute.”

He peers over the screen. “Still trying to figure out why you woke up in an empty bed?”

“Shut up.”

But yeah.

He just laughs and shakes his head, grabbing Reid and heading out of the arena.

The locker room empties out and I sit on the bench, wavering over the message. How desperate is too desperate? Is thirsty hot or a turn off? Never in my life have I spent this much time on a simple text. What’s wrong with me?

I settle on,“Can we meet up?”and have my thumb over the send button when a loud, slow-moving crash sounds from down the hall.

Stashing my phone, I run down the hall. A low curse comes from behind the storage closet door.

Jerking open the door, I find Twyler crumpled on the floor, surrounded by hundreds of tiny square packets of antiseptic wipes.

She looks so pissed off and annoyed that I know better than to laugh, although it’s really fucking hard not to. Thrusting out my hand, I ask, “Need some help, Sunshine?”

15

Twyler

I stare at Reese’s big, manly hands and try not to remember how incredible they felt against my bare skin.

How needy and hungry they were, even after he pulled back and put some much needed distance between us. He’d held onto me like he didn’t want to let go.

So obviously, in typical Twyler Perkins fashion, I snuck out under the cover of dark. I’d barely made it to the sidewalk before I texted Ruby:“I just spent the night in Reese Cain’s bed,”because someone had to know even if she wouldn’t get it until she woke up.

Even though I’m still angry with her, I would’ve caved and told Nadia too, but she wasn’t at the house when I got there. Her bed empty and bag gone. Guess I wasn’t the only one running away.

“Afraid I’m going to bite?” he asks, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Because if I’m remembering correctly, you were the one gnawing on my lip last night.”

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