Page 176 of Pucking Around

He just laughs, holding me still.

Jake skates right up to the boards, slamming both hands against the plexiglass. The guys in front of us cry out in surprise as one spills his beer all down his front while his friend laughs.

“What thefuck, Seattle?” Jake shouts as he glares at me.

Next to me, Poppy shrieks. “Compton, what are you doing—”

“Take it off!” he barks at me.

The crowd around us is noticing, all eyes drawn to us. Oh, this is bad, bad. Such a bad idea.Stupid, Rachel!

“Maybe if you playreallywell tonight, she’ll wear your jersey on Saturday,” Caleb teases, living for this moment of supreme assholery.

The group around us laughs as Jake gives us a look like he just popped his spleen.

“I’m sorry,” I call through the glass, suddenly regretting every single decision of my stupid life. The look of torture on his pretty face is that gutting for me. I want to climb the plexiglass and make him hold me.

But Caleb’s having none of it. “She’s totally not sorry,” he jabs. “Go skate, douche canoe! Try not to embarrass her!”

If it were possible for Jake to spontaneously combust, this would be the moment. Instead, he slowly turns and skates away, shoulders set in determination.

“I’m going to murder you,” I hiss in Caleb’s ear, elbowing him in the side.

“Not yet you won’t,” he says, clearly living for this moment. “Smile for the goalie.”

I gasp, turning my attention to the net where Ilmari is standing. He’s staring right at me through the cage in his mask, his eyes lost to the shadows. Slowly, he lifts it up and back, wanting to see me without any impediment.

The guys in front of us laugh and point at me, ducking away so he gets a clean shot. They might not know exactly what they’ve stumbled into here, but they’re more than happy to help Caleb stir this big ole pot of shit.

The look on Ilmari’s face has me ready to turn into a puddle. “Oh, god,” I whisper breathlessly.

That’s when Caleb raises his arm from my waist to my shoulders, tugging me closer into his side to give me a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. Mars watches the whole thing, slowly lowering the mask back over his face, burying himself deep inside his armor.

“You reallydowanna get murdered tonight, don’t you?” I mutter.

“Worth it,” he replies.

The guys in front of us laugh as I push him off and Poppy shrieks. “Oh my goodness, what is happening right now? We don’t want our boys upset before a big game!”

Caleb laughs too, dropping his hand away from me. “Don’t worry, Pop. It’s just a little team-building exercise.” He gives me a wink, his hand dropping back down between us to take mine. We’re the only two who know the truth: the Rays aren’t theteamhe’s talking about. Not at all.

78

I’m gonna kill him. Caleb Sanford is a dead man. He put her up to this, I know it. I bet he bought her the damn jersey. Withmydamn credit card! He thinks he’s so fucking funny, spinning me up like this. I can hardly see straight as I skate into position.

I was already in a shit mood because of Mars. Right when I think I’m making progress with that asshole, he shoves me away hard. I know Rachel loves the guy, but if he doesn’t cool it with his Mr. Freeze routine, I’m gonna have to stage an intervention.

We’ll see if he can maintain the freeze-out after a week-long Amy Compton hot yoga retreat. I don’t even care anymore. I’m that ready to force him open. I’ll fly us all out to Japan and trap us at an onsen for a week. We won’t leave the damn steam room until Mars learns to unclench those stupid buns of steel. Sake, stretching, and steam. That’s the magic combo to uncork this surly Finn.

I can’t believe she’s wearinghisjersey! I mean, I know they trauma-bonded over his injury. And now the Finnish Olympic scouts are here. ButIwas here first. She should be inmyjersey!

I swear to fuck, Caleb is behind this. And shit, why does he look so good in my jersey? He’s who I saw first, and I swear to god, my dick twitched a little in my jock. He’s never worn one of my jerseys before.Never.

He’s up to something. Well, that sneaky shit is gonna get what’s coming to him. But it’ll have to wait. Right now, there’s a job to do. And since I can’t rip that jersey off Seattle—or punch Cay in the nuts—every Kraken on this ice better watch the fuck out. I intend to make someone bleed.

79

“Ohmygod!” I cry out, clutching Caleb’s arm. My voice is echoed by the gasps and cheers of half the arena as Jake makes another brutal check of a Kraken forward, sending him spinning down onto the ice.

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