He holds onto it, looking in my eyes. “I like you, Compton.”
I blink, glancing down at Rachel and back to the giant Finn. “I like you too, Mars.”
“I like you for Rachel,” he adds.
“Same,” I reply, unsure of where this is going.
“Good,” he says in that deep voice. “Please take this as the only warning I will give: Fuck our girl against one of my nets again, and I’ll cut off your pretty little cock. Understood?”
Aaaand, there he is.
“Sure thing, Mars,” I reply with a cheeky salute.
He rolls his eyes and turns away.
“Hey, does that rule apply to your stall in the locker room too?”
He growls, not turning around.
“Okay, wait. Hear me out,” I say, knowing I’m gonna get punched. “What about on the ice mid-game? Do you think we could work around it? Or have like, some kind of hand signal for you to scoot over?”
The door slams shut behind him.
Rachel snorts, pushing up off the crossbar. “You’re so ridiculous. He’s going to punch you if you don’t cool it with the teasing.”
“Worth it,” I reply with a grin, stepping forward to wrap her in my arms again. “Don’t pretend like you don’t love my stupid ass.”
“I do,” she replies, her gaze sobering a bit as she brushes my hair off my brow with a flick of her fingers. “Jake, I really do.”
75
I’m a nervous wreck. This is the first time I’ve been off for a game since the season started. It feels so strange not to be down in the tunnels with the guys, running around like a crazy lady shouting for more tape and bandages.
For a hip and knee specialist, I sure have spent a lot of time performing basic first aid. You’d think some of these guys were made of glass for how quickly they bruise and bleed. And the old stereotype about hockey players and their missing teeth? Yeah, not just a stereotype. Between practice and games, I’ve had to personally deal with no less than four chipped teeth and three knocked straight out.
“Hey, honey,” Poppy calls with a wave. She’s pushing through the crowd carrying a big tub of popcorn and a soda. “Oh, girl, you look amazing! Kinnunen is just gonna die that you’re wearing his jersey tonight.”
I can’t help but smile. It’s meant to be a little surprise for him for his first night back on the ice. Jake is probably going to pout for a month when he finds out, but it’s not every day you have Olympic scouts come to watch you play. Ilmari has worked hard for this. He’s earned himself a piece of eye candy tonight.
“This is so exciting,” Poppy says. “You know, this is my first game I’ve gotten to watch as a spectator? I’ve been running myself ragged this season.”
“Same,” I reply, snagging a few pieces of popcorn off the top of her bucket.
“I felt like I wanted the whole game day experience,” she explains. “So, after popcorn and soda, we’ll switch to hotdogs and beer!”
I laugh. “Sounds good.”
“You ready? Leo in the ticket office snagged us some great seats right on the ice.”
“Yeah, hold on,” I reply. “We’re just waiting for one more.” I pop up on my toes, glancing all around. He’s late, of course. I bet anything he got dragged below to deal with a crisis. A familiar shout from behind me has me turning. When I see him, I can’t help but smile wider.
Caleb comes weaving through the crowd balancing a tray of nachos and a big soda. He looks like any other Rays fan—backwards cap, Rays jersey, jeans, flip-flops. He catches sight of me and stills, his gaze sweeping down from my curled hair to my Kinnunen jersey to my tight jeans and knee-high boots. His mouth opens slightly in shock.
I can’t help but do the same, seeing as there are big 42’s emblazoned on his shoulders. If he thinks I won’t tease him for wearing Jake’s jersey, he’s got another thing coming.
Recovering his wits, he hurries over to us.
“Hey, Caleb,” Poppy calls in greeting. “Ooo, nachos! Why didn’t I think of that?”