Page 11 of My Virgin Puck

“You’re wrong.” I down the last of my red wine and smile to Chloe. “So, soccer, huh?”

Chloe raises a single brow and cocks her head. Before I can react, she’s slid down her barstool and she’s gripped me by the arm and leading me over to the VIP area. A bouncer is holding the red rope that separates the hockey team from the rest of us plebs, and before he says anything I break free from Chloe’s grasp.

“What are you doing?” I spin Chloe and whisper yell right in her face.

“We’re going to talk to these guys…” Chloe says, her voice singing as if it’s not a big deal.

Panic runs through my body and comes out through my hands as I clasp onto Chloe’s top. “We can’t just go in there. It’s for hockey players only.”

Just as I see Chloe’s shoulders relax into a defeated stance, I feel a hand curl over my shoulder. I spin around and see the handsome smile of Noah Edwards looking down at me.

“Madison! Nice to see you. Are you girls coming in?” Noah’s deep voice overpowers the blaring music.

Chloe steps in front of me and holds her hand out for Noah. She flutters her lashes and twists her hips but when I nudge her in the side and shake my head, she backs down.

“Girlfriend,” I cough.

“Bless you,” Noah says. He flashes a look to the bouncer and gives him a nod. The red belt is lifted and Noah holds his arm out, showing Chloe the way. “We’re hanging out just over there. They’ve just finished a game of pool.” Noah flashes a look to me before saying, “Mason won. Maybe you can go and say congratulations?”

My brows furrow as Noah spins and heads off for more drinks. Chloe is racing ahead of me and dammit I wish I had her confidence. I’ve missed my best friend and I can’t help but wonder whether I would be as shy as I am if I had her to lead me into these situations for the past five years.

There’s no fear with anything she does, and as I ponder across to a vacant seat, she’s already twisting her hair through her finger and flirting with one of the hockey players.

I sink down in the chair and try my best to relax. It’s stupid that my body reacts this way – seriously, I work with most of these people – but I guess that’s part of being shy.

“Mason! Hey, Mason!”

And being in such close proximity to Mason Miller is never good for my nerves.

“How about we play again? Best of three? Same rules.”

It’s Jamie Fisher doing the yelling. With the way he’s swishing on his feet, swaying so the beer in his glass is spilling over the edges, I’d be surprised if he makes it on the ice for practice tomorrow.

I follow his gaze and see Mason sitting in the far corner, shaking his head at his teammate. His broad arms are folded across his chest and the cocky smirk he’s wearing is one like I’ve never seen on Mason before.

He walks into the reception most days of the week, delivering treats with humility and grace. He’s not like the other guys, and he’s definitely not like Jamie Fisher who’s now bouncing across to Mason and poking him in the ribs, spilling beer all over his jeans.

“Come on! Another game!”

Noah breezes past me and sinks down in the chair beside me. He passes me a glass of wine and glances across at Jamie who’s poking and prodding Mason so much that Mason’s cheeks are beginning to glow red for completely different reasons to Jamie’s.

“Shit…” Noah groans, eyeballing the situation. “This could get interesting…”

Mason’s leg is bouncing on the spot and he’s doing everything he can not to look at Jamie. I look around the secluded part of the bar and Chloe has disappeared already. It’s as easy as that for her, but for now, I’m more worried about Mason’s temper which could blow at any second.

“Fine,” Jamie throws his hands up in the air, sending a gushing wave of beer to the roof from the glass in his grasp. “I guess I’ll just have-”

Just as Jamie turns to walk away, I’m surprised to see Mason launch from his chair. His huge body makes a thump across the ground as he rounds the pool table, a determined stride making short work of the distance between me and him.

I look up and as quickly as it happened, I’m shocked to see Mason’s violet-coloured gaze staring down at me. His chest is heaving, his nostrils flaring with the deep, rushed breaths he’s drawing in.

“Ah… Um…” I hesitate, my eyes unsure where to look.

Mason drops to his knees and grabs my hand, catching me completely off guard. His large hands cover mine, enveloping them with his warmth. Every single set of eyes, including the joyous look of Jamie, is latched onto Mason.

He clears his throat and drops his other leg so he’s kneeling on the floor in front of my chair.

“Madi, I… I… W-would…” Mason chokes on his words, but when he clenches his eyes shut, sucks a harsh breath and reopens them, there’s a renewed determination there. Holy shit, is he shy, too? “Madi, how would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

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