Page 63 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

KODIE

“ S he’s wearing your number,” Linc shouts over to me where I’m warming up before our game against Seattle.

I know.

I know Casey has turned up to my game wearing my fucking number again.

There might be close to eighteen thousand people in this arena, but the second I stepped out onto the ice, I could only see one.

Well, two. It helped that they were together once again.

I swear, they’re colluding behind my back to torture me as much as possible.

I don’t remember them ever sitting close before. But then I guess, I never really noticed Casey before the masquerade.

Fuck knows how. She’s so beautiful she lights up the entire room.

I guess I was just following the rules before.

“I’m confused,” Linc states, making me roll my eyes. “She’s up there with your name on her back as if everything is okay, and yet you’re still a miserable motherfucker, so…”

“There’s nothing to sort out,” I mutter. “I fucked up. We…” I shake my head. “She’s not mine, and she can’t be mine. There’s nothing else to say.”

He laughs, but there isn’t much humor in it.

“Want to say that like you mean it?”

“Storm,” I warn.

“What?” he asks, skating up next to me where I’m stretching out my hips.

“I hate to fucking say this, but—” I scoff.

Linc doesn’t hate to say anything. He just says it how it is with zero fucks given.

He narrows his eyes at me, his signature smirk playing on his lips.

“You were a better person while you were fucking her.”

A spray of ice hits my face, and I groan when I look up to see Killer smiling down at me.

“Holy shit. You’re fucking someone?”

“Brilliant,” I mutter before turning my back on them.

I realize my mistake instantly, because that puts me directly in Casey’s line of sight.

Sutton waves at me with a beaming smile splitting her face.

I focus on her, using her excitement to fuel me.

Do not look at Casey.

Do not look at ? —

All the air comes rushing out of my lungs as my eyes shift to her.

She’s got her hair pulled back into a ponytail, her face looks flawless, and she’s wrapped in green and white. The beer in her hand is already half empty as she enjoys the beginning of her evening.

Just like at Sutton’s game on Sunday, she looks…normal.

A sharp pain cuts through my chest as I stare at the evidence that Casey isn’t suffering in the same way I am.

She might have been the one with the little fantasy and the slight obsession, but it seems only one of us lost a little more than they were willing to give during our short time together.

When she wasn’t here Monday night, I stupidly thought that it might have something to do with me. But seeing her now, I realize I was wrong.

She was probably just busy.

Maybe she was on a date.

My lungs deflate with disappointment.

What if she was on a date?

There’s nothing I can do about it.

Hell, she deserves to be.

She’s…fuck, she’s incredible. Any guy would be lucky to have her.

“You’re a fucking idiot, man,” Linc says, continuing our conversation.

I glare at him, hoping he’ll fucking drop it, but all he does is grin at me.

“Look, I might not want to settle for one woman for the rest of my life, but if I did, I can understand why she’d be a good one to choose.”

“Storm,” I warn.

“What are you really scared of?” he asks, holding my eyes.

My lips part to respond, but the music changes around us, and we’ve got no choice but to get off the ice, pausing our conversation.

As I follow him toward the dressing room, his question rattles around in my mind.

What am I scared of?

“ F UCK, YES,” Linc bellows as the final buzzer sounds, announcing us as the hard-fought winners against the Seattle Bandits.

Linc and Rett might be childhood friends, but you’d never know it when they’re on the ice together. They play like they hate each other.

We collide as we celebrate the end of a wild fucking game before the others dive on us. The arena is on its feet, shouting and screaming.

Breaking away from the crowd, I swallow my unease and skate toward the boards in front of Sutton and Casey.

Adrenaline buzzes through my veins, making it easy to forget reality.

Fuck, what I wouldn’t give for a celebratory photograph tonight.

Or a video call.

Hell, an in-person visit.

We’re both here.

I know how to get into her apartment. I could get there if I wanted to.

Fucking hell, I want to.

My eyes lock on Sutton as she shouts and screams like a madman.

I can’t hear her over the rest of the crowd, but her little voice is loud and clear in my mind.

I pause at the boards and press my gloved hands to the plexiglass.

She continues to scream at me, Mom standing at her side with a proud smile on her face.

‘Love you, Peanut,’ I mouth.

Pressing my weight against the screen, I push myself back, ready to get changed and take her home to bed, but before I can turn around, my eyes jump.

My breath catches. Casey’s face is flushed, and her eyes are wide as she chants along with the rest of the fans.

She’s drunk.

But the worst thing about it is that she’s acting like she hasn’t even seen me standing here.

Wow. I guess we really are done.

With my heart in my throat, I continue skating backward before I spin around to shake hands with the Bandits before they disappear off the ice, leaving us to soak up the rest of our celebration.

“Fletch, Linc, you’re both on press,” Coach says as we make our way to the dressing room a while later.

“You got it,” Linc agrees with a smile.

All the guys are in high spirits after the win, and despite flying out first thing in the morning for another game tomorrow night, they’re planning to head to The Fractured Compass once they’re showered.

“Rivers, you’re in tonight, right?” Handsy asks.

“We’ve got a seven-a.m. call time,” I mutter.

“Just one. You can be tucked up in bed by midnight, old man.”

“Watch it.”

“Come on, bro. First round is on Rett,” Linc announces, causing a round of cheers to go around the room.

“I promised Sutton,” I explain.

“What about Ca?—”

“I’m taking my girl home,” I state, cutting off Linc’s words. He might have been saying them quietly, but I don’t want her name so much as whispered in this room. Especially from someone else’s lips.

Hearing the warning in my tone, Linc holds his hands up and backs away.

When I went up to collect Sutton and Mom last Saturday, Casey wasn’t there.

I knew she watched the whole game. She was standing right next to my daughter the entire fucking time. But it seemed she bailed the second we left the ice.

At the time, I assumed it was because of me. Hell, I wanted to think it was; my ego and battered heart wanted her to be suffering, too.

But after what I saw tonight, I know I was wrong. And that is fully confirmed when I walk into the suite and find her sitting at the bar, looking right at the door as if she’s waiting for me.

But despite her eyes landing on me, she doesn’t so much as react.

Ouch.

Instead, she looks away, says something to Parker, and then lifts her drink to her lips and takes a sip.

“Daddy,” Sutton screams, dragging my attention to where it should be before she crashes into me.

Wrapping her up in a hug, I kiss the top of her head and breathe her in.

For years, I told myself that she was the only girl I needed.

But I’m pretty sure I was lying.

As I lower her, my eyes shoot back over to Casey.

She’s still ignoring me.

“Ready to go, Peanut?” I ask, dragging my attention away again.

“You know I’m not,” she sulks. She always wants to stay longer and mingle with the guys. I can only imagine what she’s going to be like as a teenager.

I can also fully understand why Coach warns every single player away from Casey.

“Come on, it’s getting late,” I say, earning myself a groan in response.

But despite wanting to stay, she takes my hand and walks beside me as we head for the door.

We’re a few feet away when it bursts open as Linc and Rett make their arrival known.

“Rett!” a familiar voice shrieks behind me, and I glance back in time to see both Parker and Casey slipping from their stools and racing over.

“Hey, sis,” Rett says, wrapping Parker in a hug.

I’m about to keep moving when he releases his sister and spins to Casey.

“Hey, Case. You’re looking good tonight,” he states, wrapping her in his arms.

I have to cough to cover the deep growl of possessiveness that rumbles in my throat.

My eyes follow his hands as he slides them low on her back. My fingers twitch with the need to reach out and rip him away from her.

“Would you prefer if I take Sutton home?” Mom asks softly behind me.

“No,” I grunt. “We’re leaving.”

Forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other, I walk away before I do something really fucking stupid.

In a few short minutes, we’re in the parking garage; Sutton is safely strapped in, and I drop into the driver’s seat.

Mom glances at me, but thankfully, she doesn’t say anything, instead allowing Sutton to do her game analysis from the back seat.

By the time we pull up at home, I feel like I’ve experienced the game for a second time tonight.

“Straight up to put your pajamas on,” I say as Sutton hops out of the car.

“Aw, Daddy,” she complains, but without another word, she races up the stairs to do exactly as she’s told.

I don’t follow. Instead, I make the mistake of marching to the kitchen for a drink, giving Mom a moment to say the words that have been on the tip of her tongue the whole ride home.

“Will you please talk to me, Kodie? I can see that you’re hurting, and it’s killing me.”

I swallow the mouthful of water and lower the bottle to the counter, squeezing my eyes closed.

I take a couple of seconds to collect my thoughts before I look up and into her eyes.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“How about at the beginning?”