Page 45 of Forbidden Hockey

“I’d love to catch up, but I’m gonna disappoint you. The love of my life wasn’t on the road.”

His indigo eyes flicked to me briefly. Did that mean what I think it meant? If Trav was planning on getting my hopes up only to crush them, I’d kill him this time.

“Okay.”

“But what about you? Stacey’s taking you out?”

“Not like that. Just for sushi, and so we have an excuse to be out of the house. Sutterchuck are like animals.”

“Sutterchuck?” he says. “What’s a Sutterchuck?”

“I’ll fill you in on the gossip later, Dad.”

Dash left, which meant it was just me and Trav. I leaned against the back of the bar, crossing my arms, not giving an inch. He could come to me.

And he did, his heavy boots drumming across the floor. Coming for me. When I say fire, I mean my whole world set ablaze in that moment. My knees wanted to buckle, but I used the last of my resolve to hold steady.

He slapped his hand on the copper bar top, patting it with expectation, and I looked around. No one was there, but there were cameras everywhere. Sometimes the others—especially Stacey—saw those cameras. Dash had only gone to get his stuff; it wasn’t guaranteed he’d leave out the back. But we’d reached our first fuck it moment, and I jumped to sit on that counter so fast.

Trav pushed the barstools out of the way and moved to stand between my legs. I could smell the carbon smoke from his bike as I placed my arms over his shoulders and let my forehead rest against his.

“I missed you, asshole. Apologize for bein’ a dick.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, pretty boy.”

My face heated as hot as the sun, I swear. He didn’t say the words “I’m sorry”, but they were in his voice, and that was enough for me. I knew then I was in so much trouble. If I waswilling to forgive him that easily, what else would I do for the man?

Answer? Anything. Absolutely fucking anything.

“Call me ‘kid’ again, Trav, and the first time I touch your dick, it’ll be to cut it off.”

He laughed against my neck. “Sounds counterproductive for you, but message received.”

Fuck, though, it was a nearly perfect reunion. A hello kiss was all that was missing. Dash did leave out the back. Trav could have kissed me senseless. I expected things to heat up after that—they didn’t. Instead, he felt guilty for what he’d done. Yeah, just for touching me. It was one step forward, two steps back with us.

I can’t take it anymore.

Wham!I send another puck flying toward the garage door. I hate it here. I hate that the only man I want is un-fucking-reachable.Whack!Another puck, another black mark on the white garage door. Hunter’ll know how to paint over that. Hopefully.

When I’m done taking out my frustrations on some hockey pucks, I check my phone. Speaking of Hunter, there he is. I’ve been putting off the whole “meet my fictional boyfriend” thing with all kinds of excuses, but I’m running out. Hunter’s busy schedule over the summer came in handy—construction’s always highest in Vancouver at this time of the year—but he’s hellbent on arranging something before I leave for training camp.

Know what? I’m just gonna pay a guy on Benduovr to be my date for a night and be done with it. Hunter will hate him, demand I break up with him, and this headache will be over. I pull up the app to find someone suitable.

Trav has his eyes on me all day. I work through a busy lunch rush, doing my best to ignore him, and not think about what I have planned for later.

It doesn’t mean anything. I won’t even hold the guy’s hand. It’s all business, nothing else. I do have to attempt to conjure up a smile like I had for Trav, but that’s easy. I’ll think about Trav. That way, I can tell him later that I was thinking about him the whole time.

He’s going to be pissed, I know I would be if he did this, but he’ll understand. He knows what Hunter’s like.

Trav doesn’t bother with stealth, which is a problem, and wanders over to the bar as if he knows I’m up to something. Does he know methatwell?

“I need you to stay late,” he says. “Hope that’s not a problem.”

Not this a-fucking-gain. “I have dinner at my brother’s.”

“No, you don’t. You’re not going.”

There’s only one reason he’d say that. Dash the fucking accidental rat. He caught me making the plans with Arthur, so I told him the truth—I was bringing Arthur to Boulder family dinner.