Page 56 of Puck to the Heart
Until a crashing sound sent my heart pounding out of my chest. Ash, enormous and imposing in his full hockey gear, banged his stick against the plexiglass.
“Hell yeah! Asher the Basher!” Brad jumped out of his seat and went to bang on the glass as Ash stood there, staring, his face like thunder.
All the rage keeping me in place turned to ice in my limbs as I slowly rose, shoving Brad’s arm away when he grabbed at my hand to pull me up. The look on Ash’s face flickered, unreadable as he stared.
Then he turned and skated away, leaving me standing there staring.
Except, what else could he do? It wasn’t like we could have a full-blown conversation before the game started.
“What the hell?” Brad yelled, bounding up beside me. “Wait, are you sleeping withAsher the Basher? Is that how you got such good seats?”
A creak sounded in my head with the grinding of my jaw. “This is wildly inappropriate, Bradley. His name isAsh.And we’re… together.”
“There’s no fucking way.”
Every comment over the past months, every time he touched me, every idiotic thing he’d done pinpointed into laser focus to fuel my wrath. And if I had an infinitesimally smaller amount of self-control, I would’ve lost it. At least the thought of my career held my tongue in check.
“I’m sure it’s impossible to believe someone would want to date me,” I spat, “but we are.”
I left before I said something I’d regret.
* * *
When Ash steppedout of the press room, a million feelings washed over me at once. Happiness at seeing him, apprehension over the conversation to come, concern over a slight limp. Anger at his display, embarrassment over the whole Brad situation, and the list went on.
My eyes burned and we hadn’t even begun to argue. Instinctively my shoulders rose, preparing for the fight.
Ash let out a sigh.
Fuck, this was bad. A single puff of air conveyed so much but I couldn’t interpret its meaning.
Of course, I had zero control over when I cried, even if it was at the most inconvenient time, like, oh, right now? Why the fuck couldn’t I keep my face from leaking?
“Ash.”
He blinked, looking up from where he stared at his fancy sneakers.
It caught me off guard, him wearing sneakers with a fancy suit. You could take the athlete off his field, but you couldn’t take the field off the athlete, I supposed.
Shit, I wasn’t even close to the correct terminology. God, I couldn’t even make a metaphor the right way.
I took a moment to take him in. He wore another well-fitted suit, this time with a collared shirt in Knights blue beneath the jacket, and the color brought out the intensity in his black eyes.
“Olivia.” He was hoarse, the grating in his voice making an unfamiliar rasp to break me out of my thoughts.
He walked past me, making a gesture to follow, so I did. In painful silence, we made our way to the parking lot where he stopped in front of a vintage teal car. It was gorgeous, with long, classic lines.
“Are you okay? I saw the fight.”
“It’s fine. Happens all the fucking time. Job hazard.” He spoke in clipped sentences.
Before I even voiced my confusion and dismay to him, he scowled.
“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you, but Allen keeps making bad calls and starting shit. At least this time we weren’t fighting each other, but if we’re on the same line, we fight together.”
What did I even say to that? “I guess there’s something to be said for loyalty?”
Ash scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’m pretty sure Allen is just shooting his shot for captain to tell us all what to do.”
