Page 11 of Room Twenty-Eight: Her Beautiful Surrender

“What are you wearing?” She’s more alert now, and I can picture her standing in front of her mirror on the back of her bedroom door, imagining what I’m about to put on and how I’ll look.

“The ripped jean shorts we destroyed this summer and that cute light pink tank top we found in the thrift store last month.” Thrift store shopping is underrated as far as we’re concerned.

“The racer back?” She perks up again.

“Yes,” I sigh, already knowing what she’s going to say.

“Don’t you dare wear a bra!” And with her bossy instructions, I slip on my brother’s jersey and finish getting ready for the game before the car shows up.

FOUR

Major

Closing my eyes as the announcer begins calling us out, I’m the first on the ice to a loud cheer. Skating to the net, I start stretching and getting myself ready for the game. I ignore the crowd, the announcers, the noise, and other players and work at getting my head in the game.

Asta.

Unusual and unique, just like she is. I can’t get her out of my mind. She lodged inside my body from the first moment I touched her. Seeing her virgin blood on my cock after taking her for the first time has changed me. I’ve been edgy and furious at being away from her all fucking day, and I’ve bitten off more heads than I can chew. More so since we heard from her this afternoon.

Watching Colt and Dies skating around me with other teammates, I’m about to begin stretching when a flash of ebony hair catches my eye from behind the benches. Nothing is screaming ‘pay attention’, but the color calls to me, and it’s not until I pull my helmet up and get a clearer view that I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.

The person must feel me staring because her eyes move from the Rapids’ bench and find mine. A jolt of electricity bolts through my sternum as those beauties steal my breath.

“Son of a bitch.” I’d know this girl anywhere. Despite her eyes being covered last night, we’d snuck a peak at her face this morning, and she’s the most beautiful girl we’ve ever seen. “Colt! Diesel!” I shout, and they stop mid-stretch to come over to me.

“What’s up?” Colton glances at me, his eyes following my line of sight, and he stands taller when he recognizes her. “Holy shit.”

Diesel finally catches up, a sly grin on his face when he notices her. Her eyes move slowly between the three of us, and while she doesn’t know who we are, per se, she’s undoubtedly feeling something if that blush is anything to go by.

“She’s wearing the wrong fucking jersey.” Diesel skates off to speak to a trainer on the bench before pointing to her.

“Now what?” Colt asks, and I hear uneasiness in his voice. “She’s here with someone.”

“She’s ours.” There’s no way we’re giving her up. And given that I was the one fighting this initially, they’d better listen to me.

My eyes move to the other team, needing to know whose jersey she’s wearing and what the person means to her. “Who was she with yesterday? In the French Quarter.” I hadn’t been paying attention then; now, I wish I had.

“One of the rookies and a few other guys.” He’s now scanning the other side, as well.

“All settled. I had Jeff grab one of my jerseys and take it up to her.” Diesel grins, proud of himself.

“And if she doesn’t put it on?” Colton asks, still searching for the other men.

“I told him to tell her it’s from Diesel. She’ll put it on.”Cocky bastard.

Sure enough, by the time the National Anthem has ended, she’s slipped off the Rapids' jersey and is donning Diesel’s. We’ll have to have a special one made just for her, repping the three of us. A public claiming will be needed to ensure other men stay away from her.

It’s not until we’re halfway through the first period of the game that I begin to wonder if she lives in New York. If that’s the case, we’re going to have an issue.

Seeing Leon Broussard and Slater Mercy skating my way with the puck, our lines switch out, and Diesel comes rushing forward, taking out Slater just as Leon slaps the puck full force my way. Catching it in my glove, the arena explodes with excitement, and I watch Asta jump to her feet, cheering as loud as anyone else, an exhilarated expression on her face.

Tossing the puck to the ref, I lift my mask and grab a drink before shooting her a wink that has her furiously blushing. Leon notices the interaction, and when he glances over to our girl, a fierce protectiveness erupts within me.

“What the fuck?” he shouts, throwing his hands up as he faces her. She loses her smile and the sexy spark in her eyes. “Stay the fuck away from her!” He tosses a glove down and points in my face.

“Not a fucking chance.” Leon Broussard has been a pain in Diesel and Colton’s sides since their rookie days when Leon was drafted to the Rapids after their first professional season began, and they were drafted to the NHL that same year. Their enemy is my enemy, and now is no different.

“I fucking mean it, Reeves. She’s off-fucking-limits. Don’t touch her. Don’t look at her. Don’t fucking talk to her.” He’s in my face now, growing angrier by the minute.

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