Page 175 of Pucking Around

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I can’t think about him right now. I can’t think about Rachel…about losing her to him. Tonight, I have a job to do.

“You ready, boys?” our captain calls across the locker room. “Let’s go kick some Kraken ass!”

As one, the team gets to our feet. It’s time to play.

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“What if he doesn’t like that I’m here?” I murmur, standing in our spots two rows up behind the plexiglass. We’re slightly diagonal from the goal. If Ilmari turns his head to the left, he’ll likely spot us. “What if I distract him? Maybe I should go—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Caleb growls, grabbing my elbow. “You’re staying right here, Hurricane. We want both our boys to see you just like this.”

I glance to my left, but Poppy’s not paying attention. She’s in full social butterfly mode, laughing and chatting it up with the season ticket holders seated behind us. I swear, this woman could make friends with a parking meter.

“Why do you want them to see me like this?”

“Because they need the motivation,” he replies.

I laugh, taking a sip of his drink. Regular Coke, of course. Full sugar. I’ll be giving this man insulin shots in his toned ass cheek by the time he’s thirty-five. “Oh, yeah?”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Cut the shit, Hurricane. You know you look like a hockey wife. You look likehiswife,” he adds, his eye darting down to the number 31 on my shoulder.

I swallow, feeling suddenly breathless. I hand his soda back over to him. “Why do you think it matters that I’m wearing Ilmari’s number and not Jake’s tonight?”

“Because Mars will be motivated to win,” he replies. “He’s gonna be thinking about you all game. Every shot on goal, every save. He’ll be thinking about stripping you out of that jersey and fucking you senseless. If we try and lay a hand on you tonight, he’ll bite it off bear-man style.”

“Wearing a jersey is that big a deal?” I say with a raised brow.

“It’s that big a deal,” he replies solemnly. “If I still had a jersey, I’d want to see you in it too,” he admits. “Seeing you in another man’s jersey? Well, it’s a rare kind of torture. One look at you, and Jake is gonna play his best game of the season.”

Hidden in the press of other standing fans, I take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Yeah?”

He smirks. “You think our pampered little Taurus is all sweet and spoiled? Just wait until he doesn’t get what he wants. The Kraken forwards better have matador training.”

“Oh, god,” I mutter, just as the lights go out.

Next to me, Poppy is jumping up and down, grabbing my hand as she screams. The opening music starts and the lights come up, creating a super cool tropical reef look across the ice. It’s totally mesmerizing as the lights and the video displays work together to make a visual experience for the arena. It’s like we’re racing through a coral reef, darting like fish. The colors of rippling water dances across all our faces.

“This is so fuckin’ cool,” Cay mutters at my side, reluctantly impressed. Neither of us have ever gotten to see the pregame show from this angle.

I take his hand with a grin, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

By the time the intense music crescendos and the smoke machine starts, they have the crowd going wild as each player is announced. The Rays come shooting out onto the ice as their names are called, starting with the forwards. Langley, then Karlsson, then our captain, Sully. All three of us are losing our minds cheering as they announce Novikov and Compton on defense. Last to hit the ice is Ilmari. The crowd goes craziest for him as he skates slowly towards his goal, totally in the zone.

The lights come up and the Kraken skate out to a horde of ‘boos’ as both sides do their last moments of warmup before the puck drops.

“Let’s get their attention,” Caleb jeers. God, he is such a pot-stirrer! Why does he get off on this so much? His enthusiasm should be dissuading me, right?

Jake and Novy skate past and Caleb calls out.

“Don’t,” I cry, tugging on his arm. “I’ve changed my mind—”

“Hey, 42—you suck!” he shouts as loud as he can, his hands wrapped around his mouth.

Two things happen at once. The two guys standing in front of us duck down to grab their beers. At the same time, Jake’s head jerks around, triggered by the sound of Caleb’s voice. I stand there like a deer in the headlights as he slides to an effortless stop and takes us both in. The glare of the lights off his clear visor means I can’t quite make out his eyes, but I sure as heck can see the set of his jaw clench tight.

“Oh, shit,” Cay mutters, bracing a hand around my waist as Jake comes darting forward.

“Make it stop, make it stop,” I rasp, tugging on his arm.

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