Page 11 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

CASEY

I ’ve been on edge at work all week.

Sure, there might be quite a bit of distance between my office and where the team usually is, but that doesn’t mean I don’t flinch every time someone walks in the office or cringe anytime anyone asks me to do them a favor.

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been asked to go down there.

I usually make my own excuses so I can see Dad and get a little hockey fix. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

I’ve spent the last five days trying to force my night with Kodie Rivers out of my head and focus on work.

It’s not just the guys with a new season to prepare for. The anticipation is here in the offices, too.

We have social media campaigns to finalize, and graphics for the next few months to check over.

All of our new season merchandise has already dropped in the store.

Seeing it—and seeing fans buying it—is so rewarding.

There is so much behind-the-scenes stuff that people overlook, and I fucking love being a part of it.

I love seeing what next season’s jerseys are going to look like before anyone else; I love getting involved with everything fans see on socials, on our website, and everywhere. Anytime I see a poster, or a t-shirt that I’ve had a hand in designing, a little thrill goes through me.

I might not be on the ice and wearing the pads, but I am still very much a part of this incredible hockey family.

No matter what, I always knew my future was going to be under this roof; it just took a few years for me to figure out my place.

The day I learned that I had secured an internship in the design department was one of the best days of my life.

Coming here every day, being surrounded by something I love so much...it’s everything.

Our first exhibition game is Monday, and I’m already buzzing for it.

It’s been a long few months without the excitement of a game after we failed to make the playoffs last year.

“Have a great weekend, Casey,” Bianca, my boss, says as she leaves the office for the weekend.

Aside from me, she’s the last to leave.

“You too,” I call before she disappears, leaving me alone in our office.

Silence falls around me as I save the design I’m working on and close my computer.

With a nervous sigh, I tidy up my desk and pull my purse from my bottom drawer.

I check my cell, but when I don’t see anything from Dad cancelling our plans for tonight, I stuff it back into my purse before making a pit stop in the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, I stare at my reflection.

I look like me again, and while it might be necessary, I can’t help but miss the woman I was last Friday night.

I’m a fairly confident person, but the dark hair and the mask allowed me to shed my insecurities and be the woman I know I can be.

I was fearless. I knew what I wanted, and I went for it.

Hell, did I go for it.

Running my fingers through my light locks, I let out a sigh as the butterflies in my belly get wilder.

I wouldn’t say that I’ve avoided going to the rink since, but…

Okay, I’ve avoided it.

I have no idea how I’m going to feel when I see him, and honestly, I’m quite happy to put off finding out.

But the time has come. Dad had to cancel our Wednesday breakfast again, but he promised to make it up to me tonight by taking me to my favorite restaurant.

I told him it’s not necessary, but he’s insistent, and if there is one thing I’ve learned over the years…you never say no to James Watson.

I touch up my lipstick, wipe some stray makeup from under my eyes, give myself a little pep talk, and take off.

He won’t even look twice at me. I have no idea why I’m so nervous.

I’ll just pick Dad up and we’ll be on our way. No stress; no drama.

The familiar scent of the rink helps to settle some of my nerves, but my knees are a little weak as I walk closer.

Dad is in his favorite spot, and there are only a couple of players doing drills.

I force myself to focus on Dad and not even attempt to identify who is on the ice.

As far as I know, we currently have a full roster, so it could be any of the twenty-three players getting ready for the season out there.

The chance of it being him is slim.

But despite telling myself this, my heart rate only increases as I get closer.

Dad spots me, and his face lights up. I relax as I walk up to him and accept his embrace.

“Here she is,” he muses. “Missed you this week, Care Bear.”

Guilt threatens to swallow me whole, but I force it down.

It won’t be the first week we’ve barely seen each other, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. But still, neither of us likes it.

“You too. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, the guys are putting in some extra hours. They don’t need me.”

“Aw, they always need you, old man. ”

“Hey now, enough of that.” He laughs. “Let me just grab my stuff and we’ll head out. You good here?”

“Sure thing,” I say, taking a step back and allowing him to go and get what he needs.

With nothing else to distract me, I lift my gaze to the ice and watch as three players speed around before each taking a shot at the goal.

Tingles rush across my body.

He’s there. Number Fifty-Five. He’s one of them.

All three score, but one is significantly more impressive than the others.

The line of his body in the seconds before he shoots. The speed and strength of his shot. The way he follows through as the puck sails into the net.

Every muscle in my body pulls tight at the thought of that impressive body. He was so in control.

He knew exactly what he wanted, and he took it.

They continue for another couple of minutes before he turns and skates away from the goal.

My heart jumps into my throat as he lifts his head...

And his eyes lock on mine. I cringe.

His celebratory smirk lasts for another second before it falls, realization slamming into him.

My stomach twists.

He reaches up and rips his helmet from his head, but his eyes don’t leave mine.

“You,” he mouths, making acid rush up my throat.

“You fucking with us or not?” someone barks from behind him.

He blinks before shaking his head in disbelief.

“Ready, kid?” Dad calls, successfully stealing my attention.

That guilt I felt earlier returns full force, mixing with the nausea.

He wasn’t meant to recognize me.

No one was supposed to recognize me.

“Yes,” I say, mustering up as much confidence as I can before turning my back on Kodie and walking away at my dad’s side.

I want to think it has the same devastating effect that his walking away had on me, but something tells me we’re worlds apart in our opinions over that night right now.

Oh well. I got what I wanted.

#1 bucket list item checked off.

I’m ready for my next challenge.

“ A re you okay?” Dad asks after we’ve taken our seats and placed our order almost an hour later. “You barely said anything on the way here.”

“Of course,” I say with a forced smile. “It’s just been a long week.”

“Tell me about it,” he says, dragging his fingers through his too-long hair.

He needs a cut, but like always, it falls to the bottom of his to-do list. It’s not like he has anyone to impress.

“How have the guys been this week? Are they ready?”

He scoffs, pretending to be offended that I had the audacity to even ask.

“Of course they’re ready. We’re going all the way this year.”

I smile at him, hope seeping through my veins.

I want it for him—for all of them—so badly. It’s been too long since the Vipers lifted the Stanley Cup. They deserve it.

He loses himself talking about the guys’ performances this week and the upcoming exhibition games. I try really fucking hard to focus and say the right things. But it’s a challenge.

All I can think about is that moment back at the rink.

Kodie knows.

He knows he committed the ultimate sin and fucked the coach’s daughter.

Nausea hits me, and I press my hand to my stomach as I consider how he must be feeling.

I lied to him.

I played him.

I broke every fucking rule in Dad’s playbook to get what I wanted.

I might have won, but right now, it doesn’t feel like that.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re really pale.”

“Maybe I’m getting sick,” I say quietly.

“Should we go?” he offers, looking concerned.

“No,” I say firmly. His brows dip, and I force a smile on my face. “Life is about to get crazy; we don’t know when we’ll get this chance again.”

His eyes bounce between mine, searching for the truth. “Okay,” he finally concedes. “But once we’ve eaten, I’m taking you straight home.”

I nod. As much as I want to be with him right now, my guilt’s getting the better of me. I really need to lock myself in my apartment and attempt to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do now.

I force myself to eat as much as I can, but despite loving the food here, it’s like chewing on cardboard. Dad devours his steak like usual, so I know the issue is with me and not my meal. Before long, he’s paid the bill and is ushering me out of the restaurant to deliver me home.

“I’ll get your car dropped off,” he tells me as he pulls up outside my building a while later.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll?—”

“Casey,” he warns in his deep, don’t-mess-with-me tone.

“Okay, thank you.”

“Anytime. Go and get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Leaning over, I press a kiss on his cheek before climbing out of the car. Once I’m inside the building, I turn and give him a wave, letting him know that I’m safe.

The second he turns the car around and drives away, I press my hand to my stomach and breathe, “Oh my god.”