Page 188 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
Trouble: Mmm…tell me more, Big D.
“Fucking hell.”
Kodie: I’d prefer to show you…
Trouble: What day and time are you back?
Bending over, I rest my head on my forearm on the railing.
“Not fucking soon enough.”
Another win, and I’m flying high from a goal and two assists tonight.
We’re on fucking fire, starting the season as we mean to go on.
We have a long way to go, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was feeling confident about the playoffs already.
Something is clicking. Our synergy is on point, and I really fucking hope we can keep it that way.
Two games of this seven-road-game stretch, and we’re bossing it.
Once again, I’m sitting in the bar with the guys celebrating, but while they’re all laughing and joking, I’m anxiously awaiting a message.
There’s been nothing since her pre-game message where she wished me good luck, told me that she was wearing my jersey, and promised to celebrate our win with me later.
It’s been hours. The high of the win is buzzing through my veins, and so is my need for her. My patience is running out fast.
It’s another thirty minutes of attempting to look like I want to be here when my cell eventually buzzes.
The second I feel it, I’m out of my seat and saying goodbye to the guys.
I don’t even bother checking to see that it’s her.
I know it is.
Excitement shoots through my veins as ideas of what she could have sent to celebrate tonight's win run through my head.
My foot taps impatiently as the elevator moves to our floor at a snail's pace.
I burst through the door, shed my clothes, and dive into bed in record time with my cell in my hand.
I wake my cell up with more enthusiasm than I’ve ever had in my life, and the second my eyes land on the notification waiting for me, my heart sinks.
It’s an Uber Eats offer.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I groan.
I thought I’d turned off all my notifications. I didn’t want to be teased with the prospect of it being her every time my cell buzzed.
I glance down at my tented boxers and sigh.
Needing my fix, I open Instagram. Unsurprisingly, her name is at the top of my search bar. The second I tap it, her account appears, and my eyes eat her up.
There’s a new image from this morning before she started work. She’s smiling into the camera, looking as beautiful as ever. Her eyes are twinkling, and I like to think I know why…
Just like I have done a million times since I figured out who my mystery girl was, I scroll through her photos, my eyes lingering on my favorite ones.
She told me she’d message me if we won. I trust that she will.
