Page 74 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
It doesn’t matter, though. I’ve got Sutton for that.
She makes me feel needed and worthy every day.
I don’t need any more than that.
Conversation continues around me, but it’s like time stops as we stare at each other.
Memories of that night flicker through my mind like a movie. No, not a movie. A porno…but better.
It was real.
So painfully fucking real.
“What do you think, Big D?” Fletcher’s voice floats around in my head, but it’s not strong enough to pull my attention to him. “Big D?”
Finally, I turn to look at Fletch and the rest of the guys at our table.
“Uh…yeah.”
“Excuse me,” Linc says, sliding from the booth and making a beeline for Casey and Parker.
“Fucking dog,” Fletch mutters as he tracks Linc’s movement toward the bar. Or, more specifically, Casey, after he clocks what’s on her jersey.
He waves to the bartender and orders drinks for both of them.
“You know who that is, right?” Cole Hansley, our goalie, or Handsy, as he’s fondly known, says, throwing his arm around our rookie’s shoulder.
“Uh…” Marilyn studies both of them.
There’s no way Coach hasn’t said anything to him. The rest of us have been warned more times than I’ve had hot dinners about staying away from his daughter.
Unless, of course, he isn’t concerned she’ll go for the baby of the team.
Something hot and uncomfortable rushes through me at the thought of her looking at him—or any of them—the way she did me that night.
“C-Coach’s daughter, right?” he asks, proving that he’s not as unaware as he often appears.
“The one on the left, yeah. She’s off-limits, unless you want to say goodbye to your career before it’s started.”
“What about her friend?”
“Parker Donnelly? I’d stay well clear of that one, too.”
“Why?”
“You’ve heard of Everett Donnelly, right?”
Monroe frowns for a second before realization hits.Everette Donnelly is not only the Seattle Bandits star defensemen, but he’s also Linc’s best friend and Parker’s big brother.
“Oh, shit. No way.”
“Rett’s little sister.”
Hayden huffs and slumps back with his hands folded over his chest. It’s a move I’m more used to seeing on Sutton than one of my teammates.
“Well, this fucking sucks. Who can I hit on in this bar?”
The guys look around. “Anyone but those two.”
