Page 39 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

KODIE

W e have two days before we get on a flight for our first road games of the season.

We won’t be back for two weeks.

My heart aches just thinking about the time away from my girl.

I hate leaving her, but there’s no other option.

She spins back around on the playground and waves, a beaming smile on her face.

I wave back, but my smile is nowhere near as genuine as hers.

It’s the same at the beginning of every season. It’s like I’m being ripped in two.

Sutton is my life. So is hockey.

This is how it needs to be.

I sit there long after she’s disappeared into her classroom, my thoughts running at a mile a minute. Just like they were last night.

I’ve barely slept, and I have no doubt it’s going to affect my performance today.

The guilt I’ve been battling to keep down threatens to explode.

Not only did I disrespect Coach last night, but I’m going to disappoint him today as well.

I’m a fucking embarrassment.

I fucked his daughter under his own roof.

The need to confess my sins burns through me.

But what good will it do?

I’ll find myself traded before I’ve even left his office.

He won’t want me around if he knows the kinds of thoughts I’m having about his little girl.

My stomach turns over. The thought of Sutton having to deal with men—players—in her future makes me want to give it all up and move to the middle of nowhere so it can be just the two of us.

I never really thought about how players treat the bunnies at the beginning of my career, when I was living the high life and fucking as many as I could.

It was a part of the job. Work hard, play harder, and have the fucking stories plastered all over the internet.

But then Sutton came along, and I took a good hard look at reality.

And I really didn’t like what I saw.

Closing my eyes, I rest my head back and take a breath.

I need to get to the arena. Cromwell, one of our PTs, is waiting on me.

You took her bare, you fucking idiot , a little voice pops up as I continue to sit there.

It’s been a constant in my head since the moment I realized.

It was so fucking stupid. A risk I should not be taking.

My life is already hard enough. I don’t need to be adding anything else to it.

Sure, Casey assured me that if she wasn’t already on birth control, she would have dealt with it. But…would she?

I might have fucked her a handful of times now, but I don’t know her. Not really. And saying things like that in the moment are very different from the reality of having to actually do it.

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter before starting the engine again and finally pulling out of the space.

A laugh erupts from me as I think back to only a few weeks ago, when I told myself I was going into this season with a clear head and focus.

Wishful thinking at its finest.

How was I to know a woman in a green dress would crash into me and turn my life upside down?

“ W hoa, you look like shit,” Linc says when I join him in the gym after PT.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“Thought you’d have slept like a baby after all the fun and games yesterday.”

Refusing to let his words affect me, I climb onto the bike beside him and start moving to expel some of the pent-up energy surging through my veins.

“What’s wrong? Cromwell poke all your sore spots?” he asks, glancing back at the door to the PT office.

“Something like that,” I mutter, putting my ear buds in and drowning him out.

I want to say it helps, but it doesn’t. Without his constant voice, my mind wanders back to her. To last night. To watching my cum run out of her pussy.

Mine.

My jaw tightens, and my grip on the handlebars becomes painful.

Fuck.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I refuse to let the vivid images of her distract me. Instead, I make them fuel me.

My legs pump harder and harder, my heart pounding as I fight to drag in the air I need. Sweat pours from me, soaking my shirt, but I don’t stop. I can’t. If Linc notices, he doesn’t say anything. Or at least, not loud enough for me to hear over my music.

Eventually, though, I run out of steam. My legs slow and I lean forward, resting my head on my arms as I suck in breath after breath.

I have no idea how long I stay there—although it’s not fucking long enough—before a hand clamps down on my shoulder, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.

I glance up and find Linc standing beside me with a deep frown.

“Let’s go shower and eat,” he says simply before stalking off.

Unable to argue, I follow on shaky legs.

The rest of the guys are in here working out, but most of them are too lost in their own heads themselves to notice us.

Fletch and Handsy do, though, and not two minutes after I’ve hit the shower do I hear them join us in the dressing room.

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter under my breath. I know where this is going.

They keep the conversation light and focused on hockey as we clean up and dress. But the second we’re sitting down with food in front of us, they change tack.

“What’s going on, Rivers?” Linc asks, his eyes boring into mine.

I shrug one shoulder and drop my gaze to my plate.

I’ve played hockey all my life, been surrounded by teammates, some of which I’ve been closer to than others, but never have any of them actively sat me down to discuss feelings and shit.

Even when I discovered I was going to be a father and all the fucking bullshit that followed, everyone mostly just left me to do my thing. Hockey was my solace then. Being at the arena, on the ice, was the only time I was able to push reality aside.

Despite what’s going on right now being less life-changing than becoming a parent, I’m struggling to find any relief from it.

Casey…she’s in my head twenty-four-fucking-seven.

It doesn’t matter how hard I push, how fast I skate; she’s always there.

Taunting me. Tempting me. Reminding me what a fucking awful human being I am.

I’ve disrespected the one man I admire more than any other.

James Watson is a hockey god. A fucking legend.

And I’ve done the one thing he asks us not to.

I’ve touched his daughter.

No, it’s worse than that. I haven’t just touched her, I’ve?—

“Come on, man. We’re worried about you.” Fletch’s words rattle around in my head, banishing my previous thoughts.

I’ve never had teammates who care like this. I’ve never had them fighting this hard to be my friends, despite having my walls built so high they’re impossible to scale.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it?” Handsy says with a knowing smirk.

“Yeah,” I confess. “It is. I’ve spent all fucking summer with Sutton, and we’re about to leave for a two-week stretch. I fucking hate it.”

“That’s tough, man,” Handsy says, although considering he’s chronically single, I’m not sure he really stands a chance of empathizing.

“I get it,” Fletch says. He’s the closest here to understanding, seeing as he leaves his wife behind almost every time we go.

Sure, she flies out to join us for some games, but she’s got a job and a life here.

I can’t help but wonder if it’s why they don’t have kids yet.

Leaving is really fucking hard. “It fucking sucks, man.”

“Yeah,” I muse, spearing a carrot with my fork and pushing it into my mouth.

Linc remains quiet, his eyes still on me, I fear looking for a lie.

He won’t find one. Leaving Sutton is a huge part of my issue right now. It’s just not all of it.

“Is she coming to any of our road games?” Handsy asks, forcing me to look over at him.

I shake my head. “She’s desperate to come to Boston, but it’s too far. She’s got school and her own team to think about.”

“We need to go to one of her games,” Fletch announces.

I can’t help but laugh at the image of them all in the stands, watching Sutton and her team chase the puck around. It’s not the kind of game they’re used to.

“Yeah, we should,” Linc agrees.

“You can’t go just to hit on the moms, moron,” Handsy mutters as he reaches out and slaps Linc upside the head.

“That’s not what I meant. The girls’ and women’s leagues are growing. We should show our support.”

We stare at him, seeing right through his bullshit.

“And if there just so happens to be a hot hockey mom, then…”

“Fucking hell,” Fletch mutters.

Fletch is right, though; we should go. Sutton would love that.

“We should surprise her,” Linc adds before pulling his cell out. “When’s her next game?”

My heart swells to the point it hurts. They’re right. She would love it if they turned up to support her.

Sliding my own cell from my pocket, I pull up her game schedule and make a plan with the guys. It’s not fucking easy. With our own games and training, we don’t have a lot of time to play with.

“That’s perfect,” Fletch says as we finally agree on a Sunday game later in the season. “I’ll see if any of the others want to come. We can take her out to celebrate her win after.”

“I like your confidence,” Linc teases.

“Hell yeah, she’s a Rivers,” I agree.

“Are we inviting any of her friends to join us? Maybe those with single moms.”

Laughter erupts at our table, earning a few curious glances from the others around us.

Vipers staff litter the arena restaurant, but Casey isn’t here. I can’t decide if I’m disappointed or relieved that I don’t have to try to act normal while she sits only a few feet away.

We might work for the same franchise, but thankfully, our paths hardly ever cross.

I’m more likely to see her when she comes down to visit her dad.

If I’m up in the offices, it means I’m doing PR, and I try to avoid that as much as possible.

The less I’m in the spotlight, the more chance Sutton has at a normal life.

It’s wishful thinking, but I try my best.

Thankfully the conversation soon turns to our upcoming games. I want to say it’s enough to distract me, but it’s not.

My cell burns a hole in my pocket, just like it has done from the moment I left her.

I wanted to message her. I was fucking desperate to. But I stopped myself.

What the hell would I even say?

I can’t apologize again.

I already said more than I should have. I told her way too many truths that I can’t take back.

“Oh shit,” Handsy teases as Coach walks in with a stern expression on his face. “Someone is in for a kicking.”

My heart jumps into my throat as I watch James Watson march through the restaurant like a man on a mission.

I swear, I don’t breathe, convinced he’s about to come over here and announce to the entire restaurant that my time as a Viper is over.

But he doesn’t, and I have to fight not to let the relief show on my face. Instead, he turns toward a table of medical staff and begins talking animatedly with our team doctor.

“Ohhh, someone is getting benched,” Linc sings like an asshole.

Fletch immediately begins chastising him, but my attention is dragged away from them when a familiar body appears at the entrance, her eyes scanning the room for someone.

I wait frozen, my heart racing, to see if her eyes will find mine.

But they don’t. Instead, they lock on someone else, and she races excitedly through the room to get to him.

I sink in my chair, disappointment pulling at my muscles.

I want her to run to me like that.

Coach notices her a beat before Casey bounces up to the table. She says something, and his face instantly lights up. His arms open, and she falls into the embrace.

“Oh shit. Looks like someone got some good news,” Handsy says, watching the same scene play out.

My teeth grind as jealousy drips through my veins.

“I’ll see you guys back downstairs,” I mutter before shoving my chair back and marching toward the exit.