Page 17 of Face Off
Her attention to detail is unmatched. I saw the way her eyes anticipated my defensive moves before I got into position, and I’m going to dream about the way she hits the puck until my dying days.
It’s effortless. Smooth like butter, and everything I adore about the sport.
I regret not watching those damn videos, because I would’ve shown them to my camp kids a few weeks ago. Given them a lesson on what hockey should look like, because she’s the gold fucking standard.
“Yeah.” I take a long pull from my beer. “She’s good.”
“Why is your face red?” Hudson asks. “Is Maverick Millerblushing?”
“I’m not blushing. I’m hungover, sore and tired. Leave me alone.”
I’m also distracted by the hot redhead who did, in fact, kick my ass on the ice. But I’m not going to tell him that. He’d give me shit, and I’ve taken enough punches today.
“The media is going to go wild when Coach makes the formal announcement after practice on Monday.”
“She’s feisty. She can hold her own.” I glance across the pool and watch my teammates. Six of them are playing chicken with women on their shoulders. The others are checking out Seymour’s new grill. They look like kids in a candy shop when he turns on a burner, and I hold back a laugh. “We’ll need to have a talk with the guys.”
“About what?”
“About not hitting on her and treating her with respect. Coach is going to be on our asses.”
“You hit on her,” Hudson points out. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”
“She rejected me.” I lift a shoulder and finish off my drink. “That was a first.”
He bursts out laughing and Millie startles, then howls along with him. “She did? Please tell me what she said.”
I groan and toss the empty beer bottle into a nearby recycling bucket. “‘The only thing I want to do with you, pretty boy, is kick your ass on the ice,’” I repeat, and I rub my hand across my chest. I can still feel the sting of embarrassment there. No one has ever turned me down before. “And then she did just that.”
“Oh,hell. I can already tell she’s going to be my new favorite person.”
“You’re not allowed to gang up on me.”
“Why not? It’s so much fun.”
I roll my eyes and scan the party, locking gazes with a woman. The yellow string bikini she’s wearing matches her hair, and she gives me a flirty crook of her finger. I know it’s an invitation, but that usual rush of adrenaline I get from interacting with a woman is noticeably absent.
“I’m going to head out,” I say.
“Are you taking that blonde with you? She hasn’t stopped checking you out since the minute you got here. I’m pretty sure she took a picture of your ass.”
“I have a nice ass.”
“As someone who’s forced to stare at it for significant stretches of time, I can confirm you do have a nice backside. Make sure to wrap it up,” he says, giving me the same lecture he gives all of us. “Be smart and don’t do anything that’s not consensual. You know the drill.”
“I do, but I’m out of whack. It’s not happening tonight.” I stand up and pat Millie’s head. She licks my hand, and I smile. “Besides, I told Dallas I’d babysit for him, and after today, nothing sounds better than watching a Disney movie with my niece.”
“Emerson did a number on you, didn’t she?” Hudson grins. “I’ve never seen you leave a party early, and especially not alone.”
“I don’t know what she did, but I don’t like it.” We knock knuckles, and I give him a nod. “Enjoy the weekend off, H. Come Monday, I think everything is going to change.”
“Honey, I’m home!” I call out when I walk into Dallas Lansfield’s apartment twenty minutes later.
“Uncle Mav!” June, Dallas’s daughter, shrieks as she runs down the hall. I lift her in my arms and spin her around. “I’m so glad you’re here. Can I paint your fingernails? Mommy got me a new polish.”
“Of course you can, June Bug.” I kiss the top of her head and hold her close to my chest. “How are you, princess? Did first grade treat you well today?”
“Lucas pushed me down at recess and Ms. Wilson put him in timeout.” June grins smugly. “When she wasn’t looking, I pushed him back.”
