Page 122 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

“Your brother never gives me problems, and he’s just like you. Fuck. Don’t think I’m afraid of bringing him to this small shithole to take your place, boy, because I’m not,” he reminds me as if I’ve forgotten the power he has in the palm of his hand.

I sometimes wonder why he hasn’t pulled that trigger yet.

“All because your brother loves Moscow. If not, realize he’d be in your spot, doing shit right so we can be the champions we deserve.”

Ouch.

“Remember that the next time you pull stupid stunts to give you the ‘thrill’ or whatever nonsense you’re chasing in life.”

“Dad. I’m not chasing anything.”

“You’re chasing a high that’s gonna get you killed instead of pucks on the fucking ice. Ever since Johnson’s girl broke up with you, that’s all you care about. The high of doing something dangerous and stupid. Don’t think I can’t see shit!”

I bite my lip to stop myself from arguing with him.

He’s wrong.

It wasn’t because of Mickey.

I moved on from her.

Life was less problematic without her.

I don’t know what my dad is trying to say but fuck it.

Never had anything to do with Mikayla.

The sound of the line going dead only proves my dad has had enough of me and hung up to be important elsewhere.

Covering my ass from disgrace and mayhem.

“We’re nurses!”

My heart skips a few beats as I scrunch my face in confusion. A mere lift of my head confirms I’m not hallucinating.

How did my girl get here?

As if she senses me, those striking blue eyes meet my shocked ones from afar. She’s in bright red scrubs with a navy-blue stethoscope hanging along her neck. Her red curly locks are down, making her heart shape face look more alluring in beauty with her doe eyes and plump lips. Her cheeks are flush, the look reminding me of those steamy nights when I had her pinned beneath me.

Calling my name.

Sometimes, I feel like we were destined to fail, yet fate kept doing this shit to me.

Letting my girl come out of the woodwork when I look like a villain and not a knight in shining armor.

Not in comparison to Maddox.

“Jayce?” Those lips mouth my name as confusion filters through her expression.

That gothic nurse is next to her, looking less goth and actually like a normal dude. He’s actually a bit more attractive versus his regular appearance, which reminds me of walking death.

I wouldn’t talk to him. He’s a walking freak in my books.

I’m sure Mickey is only tolerating his existence because they’re both team nurses on the Strattonville Vipers team.

She glances at the gothic dude, who nods and encourages her to do what she wants while he rushes to the crying mother to get a feel of what’s going on.

I hope they’re not the actual medical professionals assigned to this shit or things will get messy.

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