Page 8 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

KODIE

“ D addy,” Sutton sings, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.

I sit upright on the couch, my eyes sore and tired, my vision blurry.

She races toward me with a wide smile and jumps into my arms.

All the air rushes out of my lungs as her small body collides with my larger one. But the second she wraps her arms around my body and squeezes me tight, everything feels that little bit better.

No sooner had I walked out of my stranger’s hotel room last night than I climbed into the back of an Uber.

I requested he drive me the long way home in the hope that the journey would help me clear my head.

It did fuck all.

By the time I silently slipped into my house, I was still a mess.

I stopped in the kitchen for a bottle of water, and instead of going up to bed, my ass hit the couch. And that’s where I stayed.

After turning my cell off, I finished the bottle of water and laid back.

Despite my exhaustion, I didn’t fall asleep for hours.

Instead, I tortured myself with memories of everything that happened last night.

From the moment the troublemaker in the pretty green dress ran into me, until she called my name just before I ripped the door open and marched away.

How could I have been so fucking stupid?

So fucking naive?

It’s not like I haven’t been there before, or witnessed it with my teammates time and time again.

I know exactly what happens next.

It was okay to have my private life splashed all over the internet when I was young and unattached—hell, it was even relatively safe while Sutton was a baby.

But now?

My little girl is seven.

She has access to the internet—albeit limited. She loves watching ESPN for hockey news; she finds all the things she can and soaks it all up like most little girls do about their favorite pop stars.

The thought of her seeing some woman run her mouth about the night she spent with me fucking terrifies me.

Sutton is already grown up for her age, seeing as she’s been forced to live this life with me. I want to at least try to keep her a kid for as long as possible.

The last thing she needs is to be reading about what I get up to behind closed doors.

“Why are you still in your suit, Daddy?” Sutton asks when she sits back and looks at me.

“I was tired when I got in. Fell asleep on the couch.”

“That won’t be very good for your performance,” she points out helpfully.

“I know,” I mumble, feeling like a child who’s been caught raiding the snack cupboard.

“Preseason is upon us. We need you in top form. We’re going to the playoffs this year. I can feel it.”

The smile she gives me makes my chest tighten.

“Yeah?” I force out, my voice rough with emotion .

“Yep,” she confirms confidently. “You have the best team not only in the conference but in the league this year.”

Pride for my girl swells within me.

“I know Henderson’s trade was controversial, but I think Coach knows what he’s doing.”

A laugh bursts out of me.

“I told him so as well. I think he was pleased with the feedback.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was.”

Her expression is hard and focused. “I also mentioned that he should consider Rodrigo from the Jets. I think he would bring something to the team.”

Reaching out, I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m sure he’s given it some serious thought, Peanut. Are you hungry?”

A smile brightens her previously serious face and she hops off my lap. “Starving,” she cries, running for the kitchen.

I shake my head, a grin playing on my lips.

“Still want pancakes?”

She rolls her eyes. “Obviously. With Nutella, and strawberries, and cream.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I say as I grab a mug from the cupboard and place it under the machine, grabbing another for my mom knowing she won’t be far away.

“Did I smell coffee?” the woman in question asks the second she walks into the kitchen.

“Yep, Daddy’s having coffee.”

I don’t turn around to see Mom’s expression, but her stare burns down my back.

“Is that right? Did Daddy have a good time last night?”

“He slept on the couch.”

“I am in the room, you know,” I bark.

“Oh, we know. We just also know that we don’t get any details out of you.”

“Oh, was there any chocolate?” Sutton suddenly remembers.

“Uh…” I think back to the night before, but I can barely even picture the table or the decorations, let alone if there were any chocolates. All I can see is her .

“Daddy,” Sutton complains at my lack of attention.

“It seems like Daddy might have been too distracted to search for chocolate, sweetie,” Mom says with a conspiratorial glint in her eyes before they drop to my neck.

Panic shoots through my veins.

Tell me she didn’t leave a mark.

“Would you also like pancakes, Mom?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

She studies me closely as she takes the stool at the island beside Sutton.

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

Sutton and Mom spend the next forty-five minutes grilling me about the night before. Mom’s eyes light up when Sutton asks if there were any pretty girls with beautiful dresses.

I mumble some kind of non-committal response that nowhere near satisfies Mom’s need for information.

“I’m going to look online when you’re at training,” Sutton announces.

My stomach tightens as fear shoots through me.

“That’s okay, isn’t it, Daddy?” she asks, letting me know that I failed at keeping my reaction from my face.

“Just make sure you do it with Gran,” I say, reminding her of the rules regarding internet use.

“Of course.”

“Granny is interested too,” Mom quips.

“Okay, great. I’m going to shower. I need to be at the arena in thirty.”

I rush out of the room, leaving them talking about what color dress Sutton would wear if she were allowed to go last night.

“Fucking hell,” I groan, scrubbing my hand down my face as I take the stairs two at a time.

The second I kick my bedroom door closed, I undo my shirt buttons and shrug it from my shoulders. My slacks and boxers go next, and I walk into the bathroom wearing nothing but the ink that covers my skin.

Without overthinking it, I stand in front of the mirror, my eyes going to my throat.

“Thank fuck,” I hiss when I don’t find any evidence of the night before.

I lean a little closer to double-check that she didn’t leave her mark on me, but there’s nothing.

Shaking my head, I step into the shower and turn it on, letting myself get hit with ice-cold water in the hope it might wash away the memories of last night.

Who was she?

And why did she refuse to remove her mask?

“ R ivers.” I wince as his deep voice booms down the hallway. “Wait up.”

Our captain’s footsteps ring out around me, getting closer with each one he takes.

“Hey,” I say when he finally catches up to me a few feet from the dressing room door.

“Whoa, you look like a man who had a good night,” he announces the second he gets a look at my face.

“Can we not?” I groan as he pushes the door open and steps inside.

The dressing room is quiet, but then I guess that’s to be expected seeing as I’m early.

Our training session doesn’t officially start for almost an hour.

“Oh, shit,” he gasps. “Didn’t it happen?”

“Fletch,” I groan.

“She looked so fucking into you. I can’t believe?—”

“Good morning, lights of my life,” Lincoln sings as he bursts into the dressing room like it’s his personal stage. “How the fuck are we all after a fan-fucking-tastic night?”

“Jesus,” Fletch mutters, scrubbing his hand down his face.

“Aw, Cap, was the ball and chain too exhausted after her big night to celebrate?”

“Fuck you,” he scoffs.

It’s a well-known fact that Fletcher Ferguson doesn’t talk about sex with Reese.

I admire the hell out of him for it. I’ve played with plenty of guys who did the opposite; it’s disrespectful as fuck, if you ask me.

Your relationship with your wife—hell, even your serious girlfriend—should be sacred, not locker-room gossip.

“One day, man. One day we’re going to discover what Reese does to keep you in a perpetual good mood.”

Fletch chuckles but doesn’t agree to anything.

“But while we wait for that day to come, I think we need to discuss last night with Rivers.”

Turning my back on both of them, I pretend to look busy. It’s never going to work, but I try nonetheless.

“Yeah, she was banging,” Linc says, trying to bait me.

I clench my jaw as an image of her dancing with him flickers through my mind.

I have no doubt he’d have tried his luck with her if I hadn’t gotten there first.

Linc is a player in every sense of the word. A woman as beautiful as my troublemaker wouldn’t stand a chance.

She’s not yours , a little voice pipes up.

It was a one-night thing. She said so herself…

My cell burns a hole in my pocket.

I still haven’t turned it on for fear of what might be written about me this morning.

“Not often I miss my chance with the hottest girl at a party because of Rivers.”

Irritation burns through my veins, but I refuse to take the bait.

“Of course, it’s not too late. I’m sure she’d appreciate experiencing a real man after spending the night with him. Something tells me he’s better at scoring on the ice than he is in bed. And she looked like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.”

My shoulders tighten with my need to say something, but I swallow my words.

Doing so will give me away.

“Storm,” Fletch warns.

“What was her name, Rivers? ”

“Shut the fuck up,” I seethe before pulling my hoodie over my head and throwing it onto the bench.

“Unless, of course, I’m wrong. Unless you are seeing her again,” he taunts.

Pulling my water bottle from my bag, I squirt some into my mouth before spinning around to glare at Storm.

“None of your fucking business,” I state, my eyes locked on Linc’s.

His fucking smirk is so cocky, my fist curls with the need to wipe it from his face.

“Come on, bro,” he teases. “Who is she? And was she as banging in bed as she was in that dress? That was where you slipped off to, right?”

“She is none of your fucking business,” I repeat.

“Oh, you totally banged her,” Linc states smugly. “Dude, I’m seriously delighted for you. Although, I would have hoped it would have chilled you out a bit. You’re tense as fuck.”

“I’m tired,” I mutter.

“Fucking knew she’d be a wild one. It was in her eyes.”

“How the fuck would you know anything about her eyes when she was staring into mine all night?”

I regret the words when accomplishment glitters in his eyes.

“And if you want to know the details, I’m sure she’s already blasted it over the internet for everyone and their wife to read.”

Slamming my palms against his chest to force him out of the way, I storm out of the dressing room and head toward the gym to get my session started early.