Page 27 of The Forbidden Freshman

My skates cut through the ice as I whip around the rink, building up speed when I round the back of the goal and hurl my puck at Baxter. He blocks, kicking it away to Asher, who slaps it back toward me.

We've been doing this drill for the last ten minutes, giving Baxter a decent goalie workout. Practice has been running for over an hour, and I'm damn tired. Sweat has been pouring down the back of my neck, and I'm itching for a scalding-hot shower. For reasons I don't even understand, I've been irritable ever since walking away from Mikayla. I don't get why she keeps plaguing me.

We had a fun flirt this morning, and that was it.

I can't pursue anything more.

And maybe that's it. I can usually get chicks out of my system pretty fast. Any attraction is acted on, and then I'm good to walk away.

But I can't hook up with Mikayla. I can't hook up withanyoneuntil this damn month is over.

Shit.

Can't believe I lost at fucking darts. I was so damn cocky last night. Asher goaded me right into a corner, and now I'm lumped with this punishment that is a fresh type of torture.

But I refuse to complain to anyone on the team because I'm not some whiny baby. I'm a man who can complete a bet. A month doesn't have to be that long.

I slap another shot at goal and make it between Baxter's legs.

“Aw, shit!” He gathers it up, firing it back onto the ice, where Asher and I tussle for possession. It's a quick win for me, and I skate away from him, laughing, until I get blindsided by Jason, who checks me into the wall with a loud thud.

“What the fuck, man!” I push him off, and his hyena laugh scrapes down my spine as he skates backward with a whoop.

I want to down the guy so bad, but Coach blows his whistle and we're forced to skate to the side of the rink for our post-practice wrap-up.

We stand there puffing while he runs through what we did right, what we need to work on, and when our exhibition game is.

“I’m expecting a win, boys. Should be a guarantee against the Tigers as long as we can keep our defensive line strong.” He points at Liam and Connor. “I’m expecting your best.” Then he turns to Jason and me. “And no screwing around in the offense. I have you two on the same line, and I want to see efficient, coordinated play. No showboating.”

I give Jason a quick side-eye. The coach is most definitely talking about him, but of course he has to lump us together, because apparently the sun shines out Jason's ass when it comes to Coach Bergeron… or whoever is pulling the hockey budget strings.

“All right, shower up. Get your butts out of here.” He flicks a thumb over his shoulder, and we skate off the ice, trailing into the locker room.

Asher's right behind me, picking up where he left off before practice began.

“Seriously, where did you meet that little sassy mouth?”

“I told you already,” I growl.

“Damn, bro. Must be killing you right now.” I glance over my shoulder in time to see his eyebrows wiggle. “Knowing you can't tap that for a whole month. She'll have moved on by then, dude.”

“Shut your mouth,” I mutter. “I don't want to bang her.”

“Shit, man, I sure as hell do. What I wouldn't give to shut up that sassy little mouth with my tongue. She was a firecracker. Bet she's a wildcat in the sack too.” He makes a cat noise, scraping his “claws” through the air and causing a ripple of laughter to float through the locker room.

“Who are we talkin' about?” Jason calls from the corner.

“No one,” I shout back, then throw a warning glare at Asher.

Thankfully, my roommate can't stand the new captain and seals his lips without a fight. I stalk to the showers, stripping off and soaking in that hot spray, trying to chase off my frustration with shampoo and soap.

It doesn't work.

I'm still riled as I grab my stuff and walk out of the rink.

Liam's leaning against my truck waiting for me. “We going home, or do you need to hit up Offside?”

Our local sports bar is a favorite—big-screen TVs dominate one end, along with pool tables, while the other side of the barn-sized establishment is a stage and dance floor. You can go there to hang with your bros or dance with some hos. That's not my saying, by the way, but it's damn catchy and hard not to think whenever Offside is mentioned.

---