Page 2 of Puck You
In that moment, I felt as if the entire English language had abandoned me.She was a wet dream come to life, my perfect woman.Someone who, based on the way she skated so effortlessly, knew the ice as deeply as I did.But why was she here?Only the men's team practiced at DuLane.
“What areyoudoing here?”It wasn’t my intension to sound so accusatory.In truth, her appearance had caught me completely off guard.But before I could apologize, an unexpected thought struck me—don’t explain yourself.This girl was a stranger, one I didn’t owe anything.The mere sight of her had rendered me speechless, and for the first time in three years, I was unsettled—uncertain, even—within the walls of DuLane Arena; it was a feeling I didn’t like.
She raised a brow.“Isn’t that obvious?”
“You must be new, so I’m happy to clear up any confusion,” I said, trying not to sound as rattled as I felt.“DuLane Arena is the men’s hockey facility.The women have their own facility—McKinley Rink.You’re not supposed to practice here.”
The girl stilled at my response.If I hadn’t been watching her so closely, I would have missed the subtle movement of her fingers tightening around the hockey stick.
“I know,” she said, the playful note in her tone vanishing.
Then why the hell was she here carving upmyice?
Before I could voice my question, she continued, “The women’s facility is on the other side of campus, and I don’t have a car to get my equipment over there.This rink was closer.”
“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” I said with a shrug.“You’re chewing up my ice.”
“Yourice?”
“Male hockey player”—I pointed to myself, then to the rink—“men’s ice.”
“Is it illegal for someone with boobs to skate here?I didn’t think guys your age were still afraid of getting cooties.Or maybe you’re just scared of being shown up by a girl?”
“Scared of what, exactly?You might be good for a girl, but you have nothing on me.In fact, you couldn’t keep up with anyone on the men’s team.We’re bigger than you, faster than you, and more competitive.The women have their own facility for a reason,” I explained, a smug grin on my face.“Use it next time.”
Her lip curled up in an expression that could only be described as contempt before she sidestepped me to enter the player’s bench.She started removing her gear in haste, eventually stripping down to a dry-fit long sleeve and leggings.With a mind of their own, my eyes tracked her movements, taking in the shape of her toned body beneath the skintight clothing, lingering over her muscular legs and the distracting curve of her ass.When she glanced over at me again, her eyes were narrowed.“Don’t ogle me after that response.Assholes don’t get the right to look.”
I scoffed.“I wasn’toglingyou.Don’t think so highly of yourself.”
“Oh, my apologies,” she said, pulling her braid out from under the sweatshirt she’d tugged on.“I must have imagined you eye-fucking me.”
“Look, there’s no need for you to be snippy with me.I’m trying to be helpful by explaining the rules around here.”
She gave me a saccharine-looking smile that somehow felt as far away from sweet as possible.“Then understand I’m trying to be helpful when I say this—removing the stick lodged up your ass might make you a more bearable human being.”
My jaw clenched, but I chose to ignore her comment.“The women don’t play here, that’s a fact.You should learn it before your first day of school.”
“I’m not setting up camp here,” she hissed, cheeks turning a deep shade of red.“I only needed a little ice time.”
“Again, not my problem.”
Her eyes filled with a glimmer of something I couldn’t decipher, and the sight triggered a warning bell inside my head.Her next words made my muscles tense.
“I’m happy to make it your problem.”
Was this girl threatening me on my own ice?I searched my brain for an adequate response, but nothing came to mind; I was too caught off guard by her audacity.
“As delightful as this conversation has been,” she said, gathering her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, “I’d rather eat shit than spend one more second in your presence.”
I moved to stop her before I could even think about the implications, my fingers curling around the sliver of bared skin at her wrist.Unexpected heat surged up my arm and through mybody when our skin met, and I dropped her hand as if I’d been scalded.The girl stared down at the spot where I’d touched her as if she’d experienced the same strange sensation.
“What’s your name?”I asked after a beat of stunned silence.
Her brows pulled together at my question.Gone was the animosity behind her stare.In its place, something entirely foreign had taken root.I had no idea what to make of the expression.
“Please, tell me,” I commanded in a soft whisper.I couldn’t hide the desperation in my voice.Knowing her name was more important than my own pride.For whatever reason, I was convinced that the sound of it would put an end to this fiery feeling inside me.But rather than concede, she shook off her shock and offered up another vexing threat.
“You’ll know soon enough, asshole.”
