Page 18 of Desperate Pucker (Denver Bashers #6)

Maddy

My phone buzzes with a text. I pause the movie I’m watching and reach over to grab my phone from the coffee table. Bruce, who’s napping on my lap, gives me a sleepy-eyed, annoyed look for daring to move before closing his eyes again.

I scratch under his chin and read Ingrid’s text.

Hey! Did you watch tonight’s game? Your star skating student is back in action and better than ever! He also raved about you during post-game press ;)

I pull up the Basher’s game highlights on my phone. I watch Ryker fly across the ice. Wow.

I knew he would play well after recovering from injury. He’s in great shape and has been doing well in our skating lessons. But to see just how fast and powerful he is on the ice is impressive.

He checks a player from the opposing team. The guy goes flying while Ryker takes off with the puck across the ice. He weaves around another player before passing the puck to his teammate.

I stare at my phone screen, mesmerized. Ryker is huge, but he moves with the speed of someone half his size. His transitions are quicker, and his edge work is stellar. He has better balance and posture than everyone else on the ice too.

I watch as he gains control of the puck and speeds ahead, way faster than his opponent. He’s far enough ahead that no one can catch him. And then he winds up for a slap shot, smacking the puck into the net.

He pumps his fist in celebration as the home crowd goes nuts. I catch him smiling as the guys on the team surround him.

I can’t help but smile too at how well he played. All that work he put in paid off.

When I finish watching the rest of the highlights, I watch Ryker’s interview during post-game press.

I swallow hard. He looks really, really sexy after a game.

The dark gray undershirt he’s wearing is soaked in sweat and shows off his sculpted arms and shoulders.

His shaggy dark hair is messy in that super hot, just-fucked way.

“You moved a lot faster on the ice than you did even before your injury. How did you manage that?” one of the reporters asks.

“All credit goes to my skating coach, Madeline Macer. She’s incredible.”

Warmth blooms through me unexpectedly. I wasn’t expecting him to say that.

“She’s a former figure skater, right?” that same reporter asks.

“Yes. And an Olympic medalist,” Ryker says. “I wouldn’t have been able to play the way I did tonight if I hadn’t been training with her.”

“Sounds like she’s your secret weapon.”

“She definitely is.”

My tummy does a somersault at the way the corner of Ryker’s mouth tilts up when he talks about me. I never thought I’d ever hear him compliment me as a coach.

I text Ingrid back.

Me: This was really cool to see, thank you!

Ingrid: You should come to a game so you can watch the guys up close. See how all the training you’re doing with them is paying off :)

Me: Yeah, maybe

I hadn’t thought about attending a Bashers game. I’ve never paid much attention to any sport other than figure skating. But maybe Ingrid’s right. Maybe I should start attending Bashers home games. It would show the team that I’m invested in their performance.

Ingrid: Hey, what are you up to tonight? If you’re not busy, you should come out to Spanky’s with us! The guys want to celebrate their win.

Me: You sure it’s okay for me to join? I’m not dating anyone on the team lol

Ingrid: Of course it’s okay! We love hanging out with you, Madeline. You’re our friend

That warm feeling inside of me deepens. Ever since Ingrid and the girls took me out for drinks to console me the day I found out that my ex got engaged, they added me to their group text chat. I’m usually pretty quiet. I mostly just skim the messages they share and reply with emojis.

After spending most of my life friendless while I made figure skating my sole focus, it means a lot to know that my new friends want to include me in so much.

Me: Okay :) I’ll join you guys

“Madeline! You made it!” Ingrid hops up from their usual big table at Spanky’s and pulls me into a hug.

Sophie hugs me. Dakota, Maya, and Bella greet me too, along with the guys on the team.

Coach Porter is there too and nods at me. He’s sitting next to a pretty blonde woman who looks like she’s in her thirties.

“Madeline, this is my girlfriend, Abby,” he says.

She flashes a warm smile and reaches across the table to shake my hand. “Hey! It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I say.

Abby gestures to the empty chair next to her. “We saved you a seat.”

I sit down next to her.

“Gavin tells me that you’re the skating coach for some of the guys on the team, including Ryker,” Abby says.

“Yeah, he and Camden are the first guys I trained.”

“You’ve done an amazing job. Ryker was incredible tonight.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

“I heard what he said about you during post-game press. He’s clearly in awe of you.”

“I don’t know about that. We didn’t really get along when I started training him.”

Still smiling, she quirks an eyebrow. “Really?”

I nod. “This is my first time working as a skating coach. He wasn’t comfortable working with someone with so little experience.”

She waves a hand. “You’re an incredible figure skater. Obviously you know what you’re doing.”

I smile again, heartened by her praise.

“I’ve heard Ryker can be a little grumpy when it comes to hockey and training,” Abby says.

I chuckle. “That’s definitely true.”

“Would you believe he’s my seven-year-old daughter’s favorite player on the team?” Abby laughs when my brow hits my hairline.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s so sweet. Whenever Emma and I go to a game, Ryker will skate over and say hi. He’ll sign a puck for her or take a photo with her. And when we all get together, she always wants to hang out with him. They even have their own little fist bump handshake. It’s really cute.”

The center of my chest goes gooey imagining Ryker acting so soft and playful around kids.

Ingrid hands me a glass of champagne. I thank her and hold up my glass as she toasts the team.

“Congrats on the win, guys!” she says. They all whistle and cheer. Her fiance, Del, kisses her.

I visit with Abby and learn that she’s a kindergarten teacher at the same school that Dakota teaches at. She’s also an artist in her spare time.

“Abby just opened up an online store to sell her paintings,” Dakota says. She pulls up her phone and shows me the site.

I scan the gorgeous oil pastel works. “Wow. Abby, these are beautiful. You’re so talented.”

Coach Porter looks at her, the hint of a smile on his face. “She is, isn’t she?”

Abby kisses his cheek. I smile. It’s cute to see Coach Porter, who’s always so serious and no-nonsense, be so affectionate with his girlfriend.

“St. George! You made it!” Xander hollers.

I look up and see Ryker walking toward our table. Xander slaps him on the back when he sits in the chair next to him.

“We gotta do shots in honor of this guy.” Xander waves down a server and orders a round of tequila shots.

“None for me. I’m not drinking tonight,” Ryker says.

“Oh, come on. You gotta,” Xander says.

“Yeah, come on, man,” Camden says.

Ryker sighs. “Fine.”

His gaze catches mine across the table. My tummy flips. The air between us feels different tonight. Not sure why.

I clear my throat. “I saw the point you scored. Well done.”

“Thanks.” He’s not smiling, but the look in his eyes is soft.

The server comes back with a tray of tequila shots and a bunch of lime wedges. Xander thanks him and hands them out to everyone.

“To St. George for the most badass slap shot in the league!” Xander hollers. Ryker rolls his eyes, but he’s fighting a smile.

Everyone cheers and downs their shots. I drink half of mine and wince at the burn in my throat before sucking on the lime wedge. When I look up, Ryker’s staring at me.

“It doesn’t go down as smoothly as Coke, does it?” he says.

I chuckle and shake my head. “Nope.”

This is nice, joking around with him. Whatever awkwardness and tension between us the last time we talked has dissipated. Thank god. I just want us to be cool with each other.

Coach Porter and Abby stand up. “We’re calling it a night,” he says.

I smile up at Abby and tell her bye. When they leave, Ryker stands up and sits in the empty seat next to me.

He nods at my half-finished shot. “You gonna finish that?”

I shake my head.

He swipes the salt shaker from the table, licks the back of his hand, then sprinkles salt on it.

My eyes go wide at the sight of his tongue. I’m instantly reminded of our kiss in the elevator, the way he teased his tongue against mine.

Heat climbs up my chest as I watch him down the tequila and lick the salt off his massive hand.

I focus on his thick fingers, remembering how good they felt inside of me…how full I felt…

Heat gathers between my legs, and my clit starts to ache. When he looks at me, I clear my throat and look down at my napkin, pretending to fuss with it.

“What?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Just distracted by your tattoo,” I lie. I’m relieved at how steady my voice is, despite the flustered feeling swooping through me.

I nod at the menacing skull within the silhouette of a falcon in black ink on the back of his left hand.

“Does it have some special meaning?” I ask.

“Nope. I was a dumbass twenty-one-year-old who thought it would be cool to have a tattoo on the back of my hand.”

I snort out a laugh. His eyes brighten, like he’s enjoying this.

“I thought you didn’t want to drink tonight,” I say.

“A little bit of tequila isn’t gonna hurt.” He grabs a glass of water and takes a long pull. I glance at his neck, mesmerized by the long lines of his thick throat and the way it pulses when he swallows.

The bartender stops by and asks if anyone wants another drink. The guys ask for another pitcher of beer, and the ladies ask for more sparkling wine.

“Could I get a non-alcoholic beer, please?” Ryker asks, then raises an eyebrow at me. “What about you?”

I shake my head. “I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I already had a glass of wine and a shot of tequila.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Half a shot.” He narrows his gaze at me. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to watch your calories.”

I hesitate. “I’m not, but it’s a hard habit to break.”

He holds my gaze. “Maddy. Do you want a drink?”

I nod.

“Then order a damn drink.”

My cheeks flush at the low growl of his voice…at how much I like it when he’s bossy.

I turn to the server. “I’ll take a whiskey and Coke, please.”

Ryker runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “Good girl.”

My skin tingles at hearing him call me that. I don’t know what it is about this guy. Half the time, I can’t stand him. Half the time, just hearing his voice makes me hot all over.

And now I know what an incredible kisser he is, how good he is with his hands, how hard he can make me come.

Invisible flames creep up my neck and cheeks. I down all the water in my glass.

“If I get drunk, it’s going to be your fault,” I say.

“It’s okay. I’ll look out for you.”