Page 22 of Player Problems

“I love my life, Grandma. School is going well, work is great. I enjoy tutoring and love being a server. I have friends there and we have a good time. You don’t need to worry about me.”

I turn my attention to my little brother who shifts uncomfortably behind my grandma. “How’s football, Kanyon?” I ask before he has the chance to offer up himself to help with bills. I don’t want him to sacrifice anything to ease my burdens.

His whole face brightens as my grandma hands him the phone. “It’s really good! I moved up to varsity and I got tokeep my starting position.” That’s impressive for his age and pride blooms in my chest and I’m even more convinced I’ve got everything under control. He’s got too much talent to walk away from it now.

We chat for a few more minutes as he updates me about all things school related before asking if I’ll be able to make it to his homecoming game. I haven’t been able to make it to the first few games yet.

“Of course, buddy. Text me the date and time and Isla and I will be there.”

I reach my car and lean against the side to talk to Rayne for a couple more minutes and listen to all her fifth grader woes. Who’s friends and who’s not anymore. Who has a crush on who. And all about the science fair she gets to participate in for the first time this year.

I promise to see them soon and remind Kanyon to text me the details about his game before saying goodbye. Throwing my phone in my bag, I unlock my car and pause as something on the windshield catches my eye.

A folded up white piece of paper is stuck under the windshield wiper. I grab it and throw it into my bag as my phone starts ringing again.

“Where are you?” Isla asks, a note of accusation in her tone as her eyes narrow on me through the screen.

I roll my eyes. “Just getting into my car now,” I answer.

“You’re late.”

I scoff. “We have hours before the game starts.”

Her grin turns lascivious. “We gotta get there early. Just trust me.”

“Shit.” I fan myself as Isla sits down next to me. “Why the fuck have we not come to the hockey games early before?”

The teams are already on the ice, stretching and warming up. There are no words for what is even happening on the ice right now. Isla giggles at my side, her eyes locked on one particular winger as he stretches out his muscles. “Groin injuries are really common in hockey,” she defends light-heartedly. “It’s important for them to warm up properly.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Told you to trust me.”

I hum in acknowledgement, but my eyes are drawn to number 89. Baylor is in a similar position to Wells, on his knees. I lick my lips as I watch the way his hips move up and down in a gentle bouncing movement. I know exactly how it feels when he does that.

Isla slaps my arm, breaking my daze. “You look like a creep,” she scolds.

The corners of my lips twitch and I wink at her. “I feel like a creep.” Who knew hockey warm ups were better than porn?

I turn back to the ice, ignoring her eyes rolling and my own eyes widen as they catch on Tate in full gear doing his own stretches. My mouth parts open in shock as he drops into the splits. “Tate has never looked so hot in my life.”

Isla burst out laughing at my side. “Oh my god! I can’t take you anywhere!”

My brows waggle and I give her a flirtatious look. “Think I can take Tate home with me?”

She snorts, throwing a handful of popcorn at my face. “Tate doesn’t go home with anyone.”

That can’t possibly be true. The man is far too attractive and flexible to not make use of those magnificent thrusting skills. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, popping some popcorn in her mouth. “He doesn’t hookup. Doesn’t take girls home. Doesn’t go home with girls. Don’t know how many other ways I can say it.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Maybe he’s just discreet.”

Isla pats my knee. “Then you wouldn’t be his first choice, hmm?” I flip her off but she just smiles. “Plus, I think you’ll be too busy to spare Tate much thought.”

It doesn’t take me long to figure out what she means when my gaze drifts back to Baylor. His helmet is off as he squirts water in his mouth, his eyes heated as they lock on me. Tingles rush down my spine, his gaze a hot caress over my skin. And when he winks? I think I might spontaneously combust.

Who said ice rinks were chilly?

nine

READY FOR IT

---