Page 49 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

KODIE

T he hotel room door slams back against the wall a beat before my roommate saunters in with a smirk playing on his lips and mischief dancing in his eyes.

We’ve got less than an hour before we need to leave for the arena for tonight’s game. I don’t have the time or patience for his shit.

“What?” I grunt as I lie on my bed with my cell in hand.

I just got off a call with Sutton, and I’m tired of being away from her. I’m so ready to go home and be a dad again.

Just one more game. One more night. “I’ll give you one last chance,” he offers making my brows pinch.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

His smirk grows as he stands right at the end of my bed with his hands on his hips.

My pulse rate picks up as unwanted fears spin around my head.

“Casey Watson.”

The second her name rolls off his tongue, I swear my heart plummets so fast it actually leaves my body.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, my voice a little too rushed and an octave higher than usual, giving me away in a heartbeat.

“Oh, is that right?” Linc teases. “So…you’re telling me she’s no t the woman who took her father's place in the masquerade ball? She’s not the sexy masked brunette in the green dress you hooked up with that night?

She’s also not the woman you’ve been video-calling since the moment we left LA?

She isn’t the one you jerk off over every fucking?—”

“Stop,” I beg. “Please, just stop.”

One of his brows quirks as he waits for me to either confirm or deny the charges.

Fuck. Linc knows.

My heart rate is out of control as I stare at him, panic spreading through my veins, engulfing me and threatening to drag me under.

You’re going to fuck up your entire life because of a woman.

Is she worth it?

I could continue trying to lie.

But what’s the point?

He knows.

And if he knows…

“You can’t say anything,” I blurt.

“Holy fuck, you really are banging Casey Watson,” he announces as if he didn’t actually believe the accusation he walked in here with.

“Jesus Christ,” I groan, dragging my hand down my face.

“Kodie Rivers, the team’s good boy, the sensible single dad who never does anything wild, is fucking Coach’s off-limits daughter. Fucking hell, I didn’t see that coming.”

“Yeah, well, you and me both, asshole.”

“Careful who you’re insulting here,” he teases, trying to lighten the tension.

Fuck. It’s so thick, I can barely breathe.

Or that could be the band wrapping around my chest and getting tighter every second.

Fuck.

This can’t be happening.

I rub the heel of my hand against my chest, right above where I’m sure my heart is about to explode.

“Shit,” Linc says, pressing his knee to the mattress. “Are you okay?” His brows pinch as concern covers his face.

Swinging my legs from the bed, I begin pacing back and forth, my head spinning a mile a minute.

“Does anyone else know?” I ask, his eyes following my every move.

“I haven’t told anyone, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says sincerely. “To be honest, I don’t think anyone else really knows you’ve got a girl. I’ve made a few jokes about it, but I don’t think they’ve taken me seriously. No offense, but they’re used to you being a boring, celibate fuck, so…”

I shoot him a glare.

“Everyone gets it, man. Sutton is your priority. I know we tease you, but we fucking get it.”

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“You could have told me at the beginning. I’ve got your back, man.”

“I’m so fucked,” I interrupt, finally coming to a stop in front of him.

He blinks a few times as he looks up at me.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” I echo. “Did Coach not give you the speech about staying away from his daughter?”

“Well, yeah, but?—”

“There is no but, Linc. Casey is his little girl. He’s her Sutton. He doesn’t want any of us near her for a very good reason.”

“He doesn't want guys like me near her. You’re…you’re different.”

I shake my head. “W-what?”

“He doesn’t want her to be treated like a bunny. He doesn’t want her to be used and discarded when someone else comes along. But that’s not what you’re doing, are you?”

“What?” I ask again as if it’s the only word in my vocabulary.

“You’re not using her. You’re not fucking her because she’s available. You’re fucking her because you want her.”

“Is there a difference? ”

He chuckles, sending a wave of irritation rushing through me. “For a smart guy, you’re a fucking idiot, Rivers.”

My teeth grind as I stare at him sitting there on my bed, resting his elbows on his knees, staring up at me with mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Casey isn’t a bunny, is she?”

“Fuck no,” I state.

“Exactly,” he says, rising to his feet as if he just won something.

“If you wanted an easy fuck, you’d be screwing a bunny right now. But you’re not.”

“I didn’t want an easy fuck. I didn’t want a fuck, period.”

He laughs again, and my lips purse.

“You swore off women to focus on your game and your daughter. I fucking get it, man. But a guy still has needs, and our hands only get us so far.”

I glare at him.

“Casey isn’t an easy fuck you can just walk away from.”

Just hearing the suggestion sends a fire roaring through me.

“She’s endgame.”

“E-endgame?” I stutter like an idiot.

“Oh, come on, man. You can’t honestly stand there and tell me that you’re only in this for shits and giggles.

You’re different—and in a good way, I might add.

She’s changed you. I swear to fucking God, I’ve seen you smile more in the last few weeks than I did all of last year.

You’re still just as focused, but it’s different.

It’s like you’ve got more to fight for. And you’re more fucking fun. ”

I’m not sure I believe that last point, but I’m not going to argue.

“What are you saying exactly?”

His smile grows, and I smother a groan.

“You’re so fucking gone for her. It’s cute, really.”

“I-I’m not?—”

“Dude, argue with me all you like. I see you. I see those heart eyes you get every time you receive a message from her. I see your excitement after every game because you know you’re closer to talking to her. You’ve got it fucking bad, and you know it.”

I comb my fingers through my hair, dragging it back until it stings.

Silence falls between us as he allows me space to gather my thoughts.

“What the fuck am I going to do?”

“ R eady for this?” Linc says, clapping me on the shoulder before we leave the dressing room, ready to hit the ice.

We’re playing Vancouver again tonight, and I need my head in the game more than ever.

Cooper fucking Nash is going to be waiting for me.

If I’m lost in thoughts of Casey and what our future might hold, he’s going to see—and he’s going to use it to his advantage.

“Yeah,” I say as we make our way to the ice.

The air around us vibrates with Vancouver fans' excitement, but, I don’t feel it.

All I feel is dread.

I’m distracted. All I can think about is the fact that Linc knows. And all I want to do is go home and see her.

Basically, I’m a fucking mess who shouldn’t be allowed to face off against anyone tonight, let alone Cooper Nash.

The buzzer sounds a beat before we’re announced, and one by one, we shoot out onto the ice.

Lights flash, music plays, and the Vancouver fans cheer, excited for what’s to come.

“Long time, no see,” Nash mutters as I pass him.

I shake my head, trying to remember a time when it wasn’t like this between us. The memories get hazier each time we meet and he proves to me what an asshole he grew into.

Whatever.

He’s not important.

I need to focus on the win and the private celebration that will follow.

Shut her out .

She’ll be waiting for you after. Right now, you have to focus.

“ M otherfucker,” I grunt as I collide with the boards, Nash’s weight following a beat later.

“You’re playing like a pussy, Rivers,” he says in my ear. “Bet your daughter is more of a man than you on the ice.”

We’re almost halfway through the third period, and this asshole has been getting under my skin all fucking game.

So far, I’ve managed to keep a lid on it. But the second he brought Sutton into it, my grip slips.

Pushing from the boards, I spin on him.

“The fuck did you just say to me?” I bellow, my fist curling in his jersey, dragging him so close our helmets collide.

“I said you’re a bigger pussy that Sutton.”

The red haze descends, and before I manage a conscious thought, I throw my stick to the ice and rip my gloves off.

“Get her name out of your fucking mouth,” I roar before my fist collides with him, knocking his helmet to the ice and sending him rearing back.

Blood gushes from his nose and the ref blows the whistle, but I’m beyond listening—and so is Nash as he flies at me.

My helmet is next to go as he lands a solid hit on my jaw.

There’s a little voice in the back of my head screaming to stop. Sutton is watching. Casey is watching.

But I can’t. This asshole has had this coming for a long fucking time.

Our fight continues until I’m finally dragged away by Linc, Killer, and Brit, my breath heaving, my adrenaline pumping.

“Enough, Rivers,” Killer barks as Nash is shoved away by his own teammates.

“The fuck were you thinking?” Handsy demands, skating over and stopping in front of me.

They’re right— it’s been a fucking battle to keep the score even to this point. Having me in the penalty box isn’t going to help things.

With little choice but to leave the ice, I lift my hand to wipe the blood trickling down my chin before collecting my stick and helmet and skating toward the box.

Nash shouts something at me, but the blood rushing past my ears thankfully means I don’t hear it.

I’m forced to sit there as Vancouver lines up for a power play.

Guilt rages inside me, and it only gets worse when the puck hits the back of our net and the goal horn sounds.

Nash glares at me from his spot on the bench the whole time.

One of their team doctors tries to patch up his split brow, but he keeps knocking her hand away.

Sure, I’m the better player out of the two of us? not because of skill, but because of focus and dedication—and I got drafted first, but it’s time to fucking get over it.

The game ends in a loss, and I feel its weight pressing down on my shoulders as we return to the dressing room.

“That guy was a fucking asshole tonight,” Fletch says, stepping up to me.

I grunt a response. It doesn’t matter how much of an asshole he was; I shouldn’t have let him get to me like he did.

Falling into my stall, I tip my head back and close my eyes.

Everything fucking hurts, thanks to Nash’s attacks tonight, but nowhere is as tender as my fucking heart.

I’m done being away. Now that we’ve finished our final road game, I just want to be home.

I need my girl…

Both of them.