Page 64 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

CASEY

T he alcohol flows just a little too easily. The buzz it gives is also just a little too addicting.

We started the night in The Fractured Compass. The Vipers refuse point-blank to go anywhere else. But seeing as they’re all headed out of town tomorrow, all but two of them disappeared early, leaving us to party with the Bandits.

Fueled by vodka and the need to put everything about that game behind me, I allowed Parker to take my hand and drag me around after the team.

We’re now in the VIP section of Club 52. The beat of the music thumps through the floor beneath me, vibrating through my bones as we dance.

My skin tingles with the attention of those around us, but I don’t open my eyes to look.

I’m not interested in anyone here tonight.

The only man I want is currently at home, probably tucked up in his bed, fast asleep.

The strength it took to look unfazed by him this evening was almost too much.

But after last weekend’s game, where I ended up freaking out in the bathrooms, I knew I needed to pull my mask on.

I can’t keep falling apart whenever I see him. At least, I can’t do it on the outside .

Whether we like it or not, our lives are entwined and will be for some time.

I don’t have any intention of changing my job. Either of them. And something tells me Kodie and Sutton won’t be going anywhere anytime soon either.

That means I’m going to have to find a way to be able to look at him and not feel like someone is shredding pieces of my heart, strip by strip.

“I needed this,” Parker shouts over the music.

Cracking an eye open, I watch Parker as she moves to the beat.

Her face is flushed, a few locks of dark hair sticking to her cheeks.

She’s taken her jersey off and now has it tied around her waist, leaving her in what is basically a bralette.

And one glance around lets me know that I’m not the only one who’s noticed.

She has the eyes of almost every man in the room on her.

I search the faces, looking for a familiar one who isn’t going to be impressed with almost every single member of his team checking out his sister. But when I find Everett at the bar, he’s more than a little distracted by two women.

I’m not sure why I’m surprised. Everett takes advantage of his position as a professional hockey player, leaving broken hearts in every city. LA is no different.

A breath gets caught in my throat when someone brushes behind me. I take a step forward to get out of their way, but I barely move before a large pair of hands grips my hips, dragging me back.

My back presses against a hot, hard chest before the man standing behind me begins moving his hips in time with the music.

“Relax,” he murmurs in my ear. “We’re all here for a good time.”

As he says the words, another guy steps up behind Parker.

I recognize him.

Anderson Westly, starting forward for the Bandits.

Once again, my eyes flick to Everett. It might have been a while since Parker was regularly around his teammates, but he’s too busy laughing at whatever the woman pressed against his left side is saying.

“What’s wrong? You Viper girls too good to dance with the likes of us?” my new dance partner says.

The Bandits have a bit of a reputation for being rough and violent on the ice.

While they might get some bad press for the way they play, as far as the bunnies are concerned, the Bandits are up there with the best players to snag.

Fight hard, fuck harder is one of the many terms I’ve heard used to describe them.

Unfortunately for the guy behind me, I’m not interested in finding out if the rumors are true.

“If you think I’m here because I’m a bunny, you really need to reconsider,” I shoot over my shoulder. Twisting a little farther, I try to figure out who I’m talking to.

Andrey Petrov.

I might not want him, but still, a little thrill shoots through me.

This man is a legend.

His stats are incredible. Top goal scorer the last two seasons running, and only a few games into this season and it’s likely he’s heading in the same direction again.

And he’s here, dancing with me.

What the actual hell?

But as shocked and awed as I might be,there isn’t an inch of my body that burns for him. Not a single flicker of interest.

His chuckle is dark and full of promise. I’m sure it works wonders on other women. But I’m not other women.

I’m Casey Watson, and there has only ever been one hockey player who’s wormed his way in. And not just to my body. Kodie is deeply rooted in my head, my heart, and quite possibly my soul.

I let out a sigh as we continue moving.

I’m sure if I were to twist out of his hold, he’d let me go. But I don’t.

I might not be interested in anything he has to offer, but I also can’t deny how good his hands feel holding me, and how comforting his presence behind me is.

This week has been awful. Hell, everything since the moment Kodie found me with Sutton and the Polar Bears has been torture.

The pain in my chest, the longing...all of it is just too much.

How can someone make such a huge impact on your life in such a short space of time?

I groan before leaning back into him. For a few minutes, I let my eyes close and embrace the moment.

I try to ignore the constant ache in my chest and the disappointment that drips through my veins that the man behind me isn’t the one I want.

The beat of the song changes, making Andrey move a little faster behind me, and I gasp when I feel him hard against my ass.

Surely not.

I blink, confused.

This man could literally have any woman on the planet, and right now, he’s hard for me.

Talk about a headfuck.

But even still, I don’t feel a freaking thing.

That’s just how broken I am.

“Don’t worry, I know exactly who you are, Watson,” he groans in my ear, reminding me that I said something.

“Then why?—”

He releases my hip with one hand before he grips my ponytail, directing my line of sight.

“See that redhead?” he murmurs.

I scan the sea of women, all trying to steal any of the players’ attention.

“Yeah,” I confirm when I find her.

“I needed to get away from her.”

“Why? She looks more than willing,” I point out as she gropes one of his teammates, not giving a single fuck about who might be watching.

“Stage five,” he says simply.

“Ah.”

“I’m all for playing with bunnies, but I draw the line at the craziest ones. No one needs a stalker. ”

I shake my head. I know this kind of shit happens. It’s a real threat for all professional athletes. But hearing some of the lengths that women go through to try and bed a player blows my mind.

“Ah, so you’re using me,” I tease, wondering just how far my father’s warning reaches within the league.

For so long, I kept away from this scene as much as possible, so I wasn’t aware that anyone even knew I existed outside of the Vipers’ arena.

“I wouldn’t put it like that.”

Knowing I’m safe with him, I keep moving, my eyes returning to the two people in front of me.

For a girl who says she doesn’t want a hockey player, she’s doing a very good job of making it look otherwise.

“Everett is going to lose his shit when he sees them,” I muse. If they know who I am, there’s little doubt they also know who Parker is.

Andrey laughs again.

“Asshole deserves it.”

Spinning around, I put Parker behind me and focus on Andrey. His eyes are dark, his cheekbones strong and perfect, just like his jawline. There really is no denying the appeal.

“I would say good game tonight, but?—”

He chuckles. “It was a close game. Your guys did good.”

My chest puffs out with pride. “Yeah, they did.”

The music continues, but we mostly block it out as we talk hockey right in the middle of the dance floor.

Everything is going well until a shadow falls over me a beat before a familiar angry voice growls, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

A hand wraps around my upper arm, and I’m dragged away from Andrey at the same time as Parker is pulled away from her dance partner.

I stare up at Linc, my head spinning from the number of drinks I’ve had tonight. I don’t bother saying anything, because if I know my best friend at all, she’s about to rip him a new one.

And to prove me right, Parker steps into Linc’s space and shouts, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Stopping Rett from knocking Westie the fuck out,” Linc seethes, looming over her with his eyes boring into hers.

“Rett’s reaction to me dancing with a guy is not my issue.”

Linc’s jaw tics, his lips twitching like he wants to say something but is biting it back.

“Maybe it’s not your issue directly, but do you want that on your conscience when he’s out because of a broken fist?”

Parker rolls her eyes, a bitter laugh spilling from her lips.

“If Rett has an issue with my behavior, he can deal with it for himself instead of sending his minion.”

Linc nostrils flare with irritation. “I’m taking you home,” he states.

Parker’s nostrils flare, her hands landing on her hips as she stares him down.

“I don’t fucking think so. Case, let’s go.”

Before I know what’s happening, she’s got my hand in hers and she’s dragging me away.

“We’ll go downstairs. It stinks of over-inflated egos up here anyway,” she shoots over her shoulder.

Twisting back, I glance over at the three men we left behind.

I allow her to pull me along, and the second we hit the ground floor, she leads me toward the bar, where she orders us shots.Twisting around, I look back up at the VIP area to see Andrey standing at the railing. His lips twitch into a smile before he lifts his hand to wave.

I shake my head. Such a player.

Surprisingly Linc doesn’t follow, but something tells me it’s not going to be the last we see of him tonight.

No sooner have we swallowed them is Parker on the move again, with me right behind her.

She battles through the crowd on the dance floor before coming to a stop and turning me to face her.

“Hockey players are assholes,” she states.

I glance up at the VIP area and find one person leaning over the balcony, watching us closely.

But Linc isn’t watching me. His attention is purely focused on Parker.