Page 37 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)

Bella

BELLA

holy shit!

you’re on fire tonight!

doing me proud, Crawford, and earning me immense bragging rights

thank you for your service

H e’s about to kiss me.

This drunk buffoon of a man who won’t take no for an answer is about to kiss me. And all I can think about is how disappointed I am it’s not Grayson.

“Camera or not, I’m not kissing you!” I declare for the millionth time. At first, I was being polite, the small buzz of wine making me giggle at the guy, but now I’m not laughing.

The drunk twat’s eyes are so hooded I question if he can see me or not. “It’s the rules, baby girl. You have to follow the rules,” he slurs.

“No, she doesn’t. Get back before I shove my foot down your throat,” Cindy growls beside me.

“Rules are rules,” he sing-songs for the millionth time.

His meaty hand comes down on my chair’s arm as he lifts off his and bends all the way over. I make the mistake of trying to shove his chest. His free hand clutches my hand and keeps it in a firm grip. He’s leaning so far forward I’m surprised he hasn’t toppled into my lap.

Cindy stands behind me as I practically fall across her chair trying to get away.

“Are you going to do anything or just sit there like idiots?” Cindy sneers, no doubt to his other drunk friends.

Other girls and drunk patrons murmur behind me but still no one interferes. Isn’t security watching the screens? How can anyone see this and think I want him to kiss me?

“No means no!” I scoff in his face. “Clearly you never went to fucking school if you don’t know basic English.”

His eyes suddenly take on a hard glint. “Bitch.”

“If I’m such a bitch, stop trying to kiss me,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

He makes a move for me, his other hand cupping my cheek with such force I cry out. “Just shut your fucking mouth and kiss me or I’ll muzzle you like the?—”

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

The sudden jolt from the plexiglass makes us both pause. Him in his pursuit and mine in my retreat.

Grayson stands on the other side, his gloves and helmet off as he heaves wildly, his neck flushed crimson. “Get your fucking hands off her before I break every bone in your body!” he roars.

The drunk above me freezes, his body locking up like it’s made of stone.

I’ve never felt gratitude like I do now.

He smiles. “Crawford! Dude, you’re amazing. That?—”

Grayson points a menacing finger at him as he spits through gritted teeth, “Get. The. Fuck. Off. Her.”

Each word is punctuated with steely resolve, matching his hardened eyes. The blue eyes that usually look at me with such softness.

The drunk wobbles as he pushes himself off me. Huffing and puffing like a child about to throw a tantrum. He throws his hands in the direction of the Jumbotron that is now showing Grayson’s stony face filled with rage. “I was just doing what it told me to.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter. She said no .” He throws his hands in the air too. “Why the fuck do I have to keep teaching imbeciles like you that lesson? No means fucking no!”

The crowd begins to cheer Grayson’s last name, the buzz of the arena heightening for him despite the scene happening before us.

Cindy snickers beside me. “Figures they get turned on by his anger.”

“Why?”

“They want a fight.”

Grayson now points at someone behind me. “Do your fucking job and kick them out!”

Following his line of sight, I find a sheepish security guard hurrying down the steps. When I turn back to Grayson, his eyes are locked on mine.

Are you okay? he mouths.

Nodding, I mouth back, Pissed off.

I’m not sure why but it makes him smile, the tension from earlier leaving him. Despite how much the fierce protectiveness that was pouring off him turned me on, this is the version of Grayson I look forward to.

The sweet man with kind blue eyes.

The drunk and all his stupid friends start swearing at the security guard, the group making a scene that requires several more guards to rush into the area and pull them up and out of the arena kicking and screaming.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Grayson winks before turning to a camera off to the side and calling out, “She’s mine!” Using his hockey stick, he points directly to me.

Cindy’s hand slaps down on my wrist as she squeals, and all I can do is laugh as Grayson continues to tap the plexiglass with his stick in my direction. “Don’t pan to me, pan to her. I want everyone to know Bella Stratford is my girlfriend! ”

The camera suddenly wooshes toward me, my face filling the Jumbotron once again as the crowd coos and awes around me.

It picks up on every microdetail. The flush to my cheeks, my slightly widened eyes, and the smile that I can’t stop from blooming. I shake my head with laughter at Grayson as he stands on the other side of the plexiglass, looking smug.

“You’re a menace!” I call out.

He winks. “I may be a menace but I’m all yours, Blaze.”

And suddenly, that is the statement that catches in my mind as it screams at me to make it true.

But I can’t…for a plethora of reasons. Ones which I spend the rest of the game reminding myself of.

A chant forms in my mind.

This is all fake.

You are doing this to save your mom.

Men always leave. You can’t trust them.

Except with every chant, there’s a smaller voice rising to the occasion, filling my mind with his sweet words, heated gazes, and most of all, the name he’s suddenly decided to bestow upon me.

Blaze.

C indy and I are nestled into a booth at the back of O’Malley’s, giggling our tipsy heads off as we relay the highlight of the night and the moment that apparently is circulating around the internet.

Layla was right, there was bound to be something that would go viral. I probably have a thousand text messages burning a hole in my pocket from her. I wish she didn’t have to pack tonight and could have been with me to see it all firsthand. Her little romantic heart would have exploded.

Cindy’s blonde hair flares out as she throws her head back on a deep belly laugh. “He claimed you like a caveman. ”

“More like a gorilla! Have you ever seen the memes of the gorillas pointing at their food?”

“No.”

“Well, you don’t need to. Just picture Grayson in a monkey suit and it’s identical.”

“I’ve never seen such a public claiming before.” She fans her face. “Damn, that was hot. I’m going to ask Asher to do something similar.”

I snicker. “Oh, I bet he’s going to love that.”

“Being compared to another man?” She winks. “Men love that, don’t they?”

“You’re evil!” I tease.

She shrugs innocently. “I certainly keep him on his toes.”

The bar suddenly fills with loud laughter and cheers, announcing the arrival of the team. Grayson, Asher, and Kieran come into view, the first locking eyes on me instantly. Asher’s gaze is laser-focused as well, lingering over my shoulder on Cindy who is about to give him hell.

Matteo and Caleb trail behind the trio, lost in conversation and wholly unaware of the females staring at them. Although maybe they aren’t oblivious, just ignoring the attention, because at the last second Matteo turns his gaze on someone.

Asher slides his large frame into the booth with grace, his wet blond hair dripping. A smirk tips up the corner of his lips as he kisses Cindy with abandon.

Everyone is in high spirits from the win. The bar’s energy is palpable tonight, packed to the brim with fans, locals, and of course, Colorado IceHawks players.

Grayson’s grinning from ear to ear as he makes his way toward me.

Until he freezes on the spot, his grin morphing into a frown. “What is that?”

Mirroring his frown, I ask, “What is what?”

His nose scrunches up like he smelled something bad. Pointing to my chest, he says, “That.”

I look down at myself. “A jersey?” I guess. I hope he’s pointing to it and not my body .

His eyes narrow as Matteo and Caleb slide into the booth, bickering back and forth like siblings. Until they fall into silence at Grayson’s look too.

“Whose jersey are you wearing?”

“Oh boy,” Kieran mutters as he steps into view.

Matteo snickers. “I hope it’s mine.”

Grayson cuts a glare in his direction, halting Matteo and Caleb’s deep chuckles.

“Whose jersey number are you wearing?” he repeats.

Now my furrow is turning into a full-blown scowl. “Jersey number?”

Cindy bursts into a fit of giggles, alongside the men seated at the booth.

“Cindy,” Grayson groans.

“Yes?” she says innocently.

“Is this your doing?”

She clicks her tongue. “Nope, this one is solely on Bella.”

I roll my eyes and huff. “Just get on with whatever I’ve done.”

“Stand up.”

“No, I’m not a dog.”

Kieran howls beside Grayson, tears lining his eyes at how hard he laughs.

Grayson steps forward, lowering his head closer to mine. As he does, his cologne brushes along my senses, melting some of the coldness that captured my heart. “Please stand up. I want to see whose jersey you’re wearing.”

“I’m wearing my jersey. I bought it at the stands,” I explain, standing, because I find I can’t tell him no when he speaks so softly.

He opens his mouth to speak, but then his jaw practically unhinges. The table bursts into laughter so loud I hide whatever is on my back by leaning against the booth and locking my eyes on Grayson, somehow feeling as if he’s my safe space in all this despite him starting it.

Kieran slides into the booth where I was seated a second ago with a wink. “I’m flattered, B, but I think Grayson is better suited. ”

My cheeks are flaming. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

“How long have you been walking around with that on?” Grayson asks, his voice dangerously low.

Shrugging, I say, “Since the game ended. I got it as a victory jersey.”

Grayson pinches the bridge of his nose as another round of laughter starts up. Inhaling a deep breath, he spins me, placing my back against his front as he wraps his thick arms around my torso. For a moment, my breath catches, the ruckus of the bar fading as Grayson’s warmth seeps into my core.