Page 23 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

CASEY

“ Y ou can work remotely tomorrow afternoon, right?” Parker asks the second I answer her call as I get out of my car on Thursday morning and head for the arena.

In the front office, it’s not always that obvious that the team is away, but I still feel their absence.

The atmosphere is different. It’s stupid, but I’m acutely aware of it.

No one else has ever mentioned it, so I figure I’m just being weird, or that I love the game more than them.

“Uhh…I guess so. Why?” I ask, curious.

“I booked us flights.”

My chest gets all light and hopeful.

Please, please say what I think you’re about to.

“Flights for…”

“Utah, duh.”

Oh my god.

“You want to go to the game, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“Perfect.”

“Have you booked a hotel?” I ask as I tap my security pass to allow me access to the building and walk inside.

“No, I thought you might want to sweet talk your dad to see if he can get us a room at the team’s hotel. ”

“I can try, but I’m happy to stay anywhere.”

“But you’d prefer to be close to him , right?”

“Parker.” I force a smile on my face as one of the women from the PR office passes me.

“What? Just imagine it. He has no idea that you’re coming, and he scores the winning goal, looks up, and there you are in his jersey, screaming his name from the top of your lungs. After, he could slip you his hotel room key and the two of you could spend the night celebrating. Swoon.”

There isn’t a single inch of my body that isn’t interested in the fantasy she paints.

I want it. I want it so bad, but I’m also a realist and I know it’s not going to happen.

“Unlikely, but I like your thought process.”

“There is always a chance.”

“And what about you? What would you be doing while I was living out my wildest fantasy?” I inquire before I step into my office.

“I’m sure I could find a way to entertain myself.”

“Careful, Park. I might start thinking you do actually want to spend the night with a hockey player.”

“Ugh, as if. No offense.”

I chuckle as I lower my ass to my chair and turn on my computer.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

“Dude, do not quote Shakespeare at me. I know what hockey players are like. I lived with my brother long enough to know the dirty truth.”

“They’re not all as bad as him,” I counter.

“Still not risking it. I will not spend the night or even an hour with a professional athlete. I want a man whose dick is bigger than his ego.”

“Well, I think you might find?—”

“Do not finish that sentence. I’ve read enough online about the size of my brother’s…ego. Ugh.”

I can’t help but laugh as I picture her shuddering.

She’s not wrong. Everett Donnelly has a reputation that rivals Linc’s.

When they were together, they were notorious. It’s a good thing that they play for different teams now.

“One day, someone will come along and change everything.”

“Not a chance,” she states firmly. “Shit, I need to go. My client just walked in.'“

“Okay. Send me the flight details. I’ll speak to Dad.”

“You got it. Eee, I’m so excited.”

She hangs up, leaving me buzzing.

Watching the game on the TV is great and all, but it’s nothing like being there in the flesh.

Parker and I have been to a Utah game before. Their fans are wild. It’s going to be a good night. And if Dad can get us into the team hotel, then…

I refuse to think too much about what comes at the end of that sentence.

All I know is that I need to see Kodie again.

Confident that Dad will already be up working on his plan of attack before their flight this afternoon, I hit call on his contact and see if I can make magic happen.

“ T his is the best idea you’ve ever had,” I tell Parker as we step off the plane the next afternoon.

It doesn’t matter that it’s raining. Nothing could dampen my spirits right now.

The second I told Dad that we were coming, he promised to secure us a room and tickets to the game.

He also said that he’d send a car to collect us from the airport.

Of course, we’re more than capable of doing that ourselves, but I appreciate the shit out of him trying to take care of me.

“Well, I don’t like to brag, but…”

We’re already three cocktails in, and I feel amazing about this little impromptu trip.

I’d been feeling a little off as this week went on. I haven’t heard anything about the assistant coaching job, and I’m getting antsy. Even a rejection at this point would be better than nothing.

I may still not believe I’ve got the skills they’ll be looking for, but the more I think about those two girls' teams I watched on Sunday, the more I want it.

Hell, I more than want it.

We climb into the back of the car and chat away as we’re escorted to the hotel.

Dad and the team are already at the arena, getting ready, but I message him to let him know we’ve landed safely and that we’ll see him later.

After checking in, we drag our luggage to the elevator and head toward our room.

I don’t know what floor the team is staying on, but secretly, I pray that we’re on the same one.

Images of sneaking out of our room and into another in the middle of the night flicker through my head.

Parker whistles appreciatively as we step inside our room.

“Daddy Watson did us good,” she praises as she looks around.

I groan. “Please don’t call him that,” I mutter as I follow her inside.

She isn’t wrong; the room is sweet, and it has an even better view of the city.

Parker chuckles wickedly.

“Let’s get ready, get food and more drinks, and then head to the arena,” she says before pulling her cell from her purse and reading a message.

A frown pulls at her brow.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yep,” she states before pushing it into her back pocket and unzipping her suitcase.

T he arena is buzzing with excitement when we enter, and it only adds to my anticipation.

We find our seats and watch as the Utah fans sing and chant for their team.

It’s weird going to a road game and not being in the majority in the stands.

The Vipers have a nice number of supporters here, though, so we’re in good company as we get swept up in the pregame excitement and sing along with beers in hand, waiting for the game to start.

Not much later, both teams hit the ice to furious rounds of applause. The entire stadium vibrates as everyone cheers and stomps their feet.

My heart races as we watch our boys warm up and get ready to hopefully annihilate Utah just like they did Chicago two days ago.

They struggled against both teams last year. I know how important it is to Dad that they turn things around with them, even in exhibition games.

“Start as we mean to go on,” he told me as if I was one of his players in the dressing room.

“Fuck, I love it when goalies do those warm-ups,” Parker sighs as Handsy drops to the ice and begins grinding his hips.

“You don’t want a hockey player, remember?”

“Never said I did. I’ll happily watch one, though.”

“Can’t beat a bit of hockey porn,” I laugh.

“How much do you think he’d charge to do that naked?”

“Parker,” I gasp.

“What? Handsy is hot.”

“Yeah, he’s also had his hands on almost every bunny in LA.” Hence the nickname.

She waves me off, finishing her beer as Linc skates around our side of the rink, his eyes on the crowd, riling us up.

He’s forever the showman. I’m pretty sure he’d be on stage if he weren’t a hockey player.

“Jesus, who does he think he is?” Parker mutters as Linc gestures for the Vipers fans to get on their feet.

Obviously, everyone does. We’re all powerless but to follow orders.

He begins clapping as we all chant excitedly, his eyes scanning the faces staring down at him.

He continues showing off and lapping up the fans’ attention until Fletch barks at him to get off the ice.

The players might momentarily leave the ice, but the excitement in the arena doesn’t wane as we wait for the game to start.

Not too long after, the starters are being announced, and they play the national anthem before the teams get into position.

Calm settles over the arena for a beat as we wait for the puck to drop, but the second Utah wins possession, a loud roar rips through the crowd.

It only lasts so long, though. Our rookie intercepts it and makes a killer pass to Kodie, who flies down the wing and sails it straight past their goalie.

I’m on my feet before the puck hits the net, my drink flying out of my hands and soaking the guy in front. Whoops.

The guy turns to look at me, a scowl set on his face, but thankfully, he’s a Vipers fan, and lets it go.

“FUCK YES,” I scream, jumping up and down as the lights around the stadium flash and the fans in Vipers’ green and white go wild.

Kodie and Linc collide in a celebration before Kodie turns to us and does his standard celly dance.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve seen it more times than I can count over the years; I still love every second of it.

The game resumes and Utah quickly levels the score.

And that is how the game continues.

We hit the back of the net, and then only minutes later, they do the same, bringing us even again.

It’s a fantastic game, but equally as frustrating, because just when we think we’re going to steam ahead, they catch up.

We head toward the end of the third period tied. The puck drops and Utah claims it and races toward their goal.

Their fans are on their feet, shouting and screaming for them to get the win.

But then, out of nowhere, Monroe appears and steals the puck.

A roar of frustration erupts as I watch him fly down the left side of the ice and head toward Kodie.

He’s battling to get free, and at the very last minute, he breaks away—just in time for Monroe to pass him the puck. He spins and takes the shot with a second left on the clock.

My heart is in my throat. I swear every single Vipers fan around me sucks in a breath as the puck sails through the air.

And then it happens. It hits the back of the net and chaos erupts as the final whistle blows.

Kodie flies in front of us before he’s engulfed by every single Vipers player as they celebrate his last-minute goal.

They jostle him so much, his helmet falls off and he ends up on his back on the ice.

He’s laughing with a wide smile lighting up his face when he finally gets to his feet again—until he looks up and his eyes lock with mine.

His smile falters and his expression—hell, his entire demeanor—completely changes.

My heart sinks, hating that my presence is ruining what should be an epic moment for him.

“Shit,” Parker hisses next to me. Clearly, every single person around me is witnessing his unfiltered reaction to seeing me here.

“I need to leave,” I mutter, bending down to pick up my trash.

No sooner have I ripped my eyes away from Kodie does Parker reach for me. “Wait,” she shouts. “Look.”

With my heart in the pit of my stomach, I follow her command and look back at the ice.

Kodie’s eyes are still on me, but the shock has lessened.

“He’s…he’s smiling, Case. At you.”

My knees buckle.

Thankfully, I catch myself on the seat in front of me.

But by the time I’ve steadied myself, he’s gone.

“He wants you,” Parker states.

“It was shock,” I mutter, trying desperately not to obsess over how close he was to kissing me last weekend.

My stomach clenches with anticipation; my eyes still locked on him as he continues to celebrate the win with his teammates.

“We need to find what room he’s in tonight. You need to go to him.”

“I-I can’t do that,” I stutter.

But while I might argue, I can’t deny that I don’t clench my thighs in anticipation of doing just that.

If I were to knock on his hotel room door, would he open up? And if he did, would he let me in?

The thought of him sending me away hurts. I can only imagine how bad it would be if it were to happen.

I can’t risk that. Can I?

As the team begins to leave the ice, I lose myself in thoughts of what the night could hold.

Kodie is about to step off the ice just behind Linc when he turns around and looks up. But it isn’t any of the other fans he searches out.

It’s me.

His eyes drop to my jersey, and one side of his mouth kicks up.

“Oh my god, Casey,” Parker squeals.

His gaze lifts again, and something powerful crackles between us.

Right there and then I decide that I’ll risk being turned away from his hotel room.

Anything to do with Kodie Rivers is a risk worth taking.