Page 20 of Her Puck Daddies (Game On Daddies #2)

ERIC

I have to admit, I love Sven’s attitude about being with Ava again.

Even Levi seems more cheerful, and that’s not easy.

Usually, it takes an act of Congress or a playoff win to get him like this.

We’re all laid out on Sven’s couch, eating takeout and watching Edmonton duke it out with Boston, while brainstorming ways to convince Ava to give us a shot.

Without her on board, our hopes will crash and burn like a sudden-death overtime where our opponents score first—quick and without warning.

The captain thinks I should be the one to bring it up to Ava since I have another session scheduled with her. I’m not exactly smooth when it comes to these kinds of conversations, but I agree. Now, I have to figure out how not to screw this up.

Levi watches me closely, his expression unreadable, but I know him too well. He cares about how this turns out—probably more than he’s letting on.

My next appointment with her isn’t until after we return from Chicago in four days, but something miraculous happens the very next morning at practice. Coach sets up a full scrimmage with everyone out on the ice.

That means Steiner’s tending our net while Levi’s guarding the one for the second line. If we were doing this for fun, shooting against Levi might be enjoyable, but we’re not. So, it mostly just feels wrong. But then, the miracle happens.

Levi blocks every single shot on goal.

It’s like one of those science fiction force fields went up in front of his net. Or like he has a magnet in his glove and the puck is made of steel. Because that goddamn hunk of plastic lands in his palm every single time. Without fail.

My little brother is back, baby!

The next practice is pretty much the same.

When we head out for our trip to Chicago, Coach watches us closely during the morning skate, his gaze narrowed.

We scrimmage again, and Steiner blocks one, then lets another slip through, while Levi gets a shutout.

I’m hoping that means Levi will get back in the game, but I’m disappointed.

Coach sticks with Steiner for the first period, and the very first challenge to the net ends with the Blackhawks getting one on the bo ard. The crowd erupts when the lamp lights up, but Coach just crosses his arms over his chest and frowns.

“Come on,” I mutter under my breath, the commotion in here drowning me out. “Come on…”

Sven and I are waiting for our turn to hit the ice when Coach bops Levi on the shoulder.

“Get out there, Corolla.”

Levi moves like a gust of wind, unstoppable.

The next two periods are a thing of beauty.

Not only does Levi pull off another shutout, but Sven and I each manage to get a goal in.

The captain even adds another assist to his tally.

The hometown fans may not like it, but we sure do. We fucking love it.

Levi’s grin doesn’t fade as we celebrate with fist bumps, wishing the other team a good game. It sticks with him through the whole routine—removing pads, showers, and getting dressed.

When he gets called to the publicists area, he doesn’t flinch.

“Care to explain what’s been different for you tonight? What got you out of your funk?” a reporter from the Chicago Sun-Times asks.

Levi smirks. “Just needed a bit of that gritty city Chicago air, I guess.”

Tha t smile says it all.

But as the celebrations buzz through Coach’s suite, I can’t shake the emptiness that comes with missing Ava.

I realize I haven’t seen her around, and the thought hits me harder than I expect.

Her massage schedule’s been packed lately—no surprise, considering our focus on beating Chicago and squeezing every bit of training in.

But still, the fact that she’s not here after such a big win leaves a hole I can’t ignore.

It stands out, sharp and painful, like something’s missing where it shouldn’t be.

Levi’s swamped with well-wishes from everyone, and Sven’s getting a pat on the back every few seconds. That leaves me with my other teammates.

“Hey, seen the masseuse around?” I ask, trying to keep it casual so I don’t raise any suspicions about how familiar I am with her.

“Nah, man, but she’s gotta be here somewhere,” the forward replies, grinning. “Great goal, by the way.”

“Thanks.” I move through similar conversations with a few other guys until I reach Cecille. “You seen our masseuse around?”

“She called it a night. Said she was tired,” the office manager says with a slight shrug. “You’re not having any pain, are you?”

“Oh, no. Just curious.”

I j ust need to let her know that the captain, the goalie, and I are all dying to have our wicked ways with her again. No big deal, right?

I join in the celebration for a bit, then start weighing whether I want to find her tonight or wait until the party’s over.

But I don’t like putting things off, especially not when it comes to stuff like this.

I’m nervous, sure, because I have high hopes, but the longer I wait, the worse I’ll feel if she says no. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid now.

If I’m lucky, we’ll have our next foursome sooner rather than later.

Now, it’s just a matter of finding her room. Cecille will have a list of room numbers, so all I need to do is track down Ava’s. The tricky part is doing it without making it obvious where I’m headed.

“Hey, Cecille, can you tell me which room Levi’s in? He told me to put in for a wake-up call for him tomorrow.”

“Oh, I can do that for him. What time?”

Well, shit.

“Uh, I need to drop by his room to shove something in there, too. I don’t know the number, though.” I remove my own credit card-looking key. “All he gave me was this.”

Cec ille raising a delicately plucked black eyebrow. “Eric Schwartz, you’re not pulling a prank right now, are you?”

If this was Coach, I’d deny this tooth and nail. But our office manager has one hell of a sense of humor. I should be able to get away with some subtle sarcasm.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I deadpan, and beside me, she stifles a giggle. Gotcha.

She takes her phone out of her pocket and pulls up the screen she needs. I lean in, faking that I’m not looking. She scrolls to Levi’s room, and right before she zips past it, I notice that Ava’s room is 1098. Score.

“It’s 1089,” she says aloud because Cecille really is a gem. She helps me out with reading whenever she can.

“You’re awesome, you know that, right?” I offer her my most charming grin.

She grins back. “I’m aware.”

From there, it’s a matter of sneaking off without being caught. Now’s the perfect time since everyone’s so distracted by the party.

So I don’t fuck this up, I say the number of the room to myself. “1098. 1098. 1098…” I murmur as I ride the elevator down a couple o f floors to the one most of us are staying on. The hotel has a narrower configuration than most, so half of us are on one floor while the rest are on another.

Her room should be down at the end, but since I’m not the best with numbers, I count the entire way. With evens on one side and odds on the other, I mumble them under my breath, keeping my voice low.

“1090, 1092, 1094, 1096, and yeah, 1098.” Then, I knock.

But no one comes to answer. Could Ava be in the shower? Or maybe she’s playing her TV loud. I press my ear to the door but hear nothing. Not a sound. Maybe she has earbuds in. I knock with more force, this time chancing to call out her name.

“Ava? Ava, you hear me?”

Nothing.

I go from knocking to banging on the door with my fist. “Ava?”

“Eric,” comes a voice from behind me several doors down. It’s her. But what’s she doing over there in room 1089?

1089. Of course.

Annoyed at myself, I rush over before I can fuck anything else up. “Hey, can I come in?”

She ’s in yoga pants and a T-shirt—dressed, technically. Not that I’d mind if she wasn’t, except I need to keep my blood from rushing south. The memory of that lace lingerie she wore in Newark flashes through my mind, and my cock stirs in response, straining against my trousers.

Sorry, buddy. Not tonight. Gotta focus.

“Why?” Her hesitation is obvious. And now that I’m paying attention to the way she keeps glancing up and down the corridor, I start to wonder if she’s expecting someone else.

“Waiting on company?”

“No.” But she’s still scanning the hallway, eyes flicking to the generic hotel artwork and the soft glow of the overhead lights.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she snaps, lips pressing together.

I’ve tasted those lips, and my pants grow even tighter.

Maybe it’s the hotel setting messing with my head, but my dick refuses to get the memo that nothing’s happening tonight.

Normally, I can keep things in check when I’m on her table.

Sure, I get a bit of a boner, but it’s manageable.

Closing my eyes and pretending she’s Greg usually does the trick.

“ I need to ask you a question. A personal question. But it doesn’t have to take very long.”

I watch as she strokes along the column of her throat. Now that I know she recently swallowed Levi down that same throat, my dick rises before I can stop it.

Knock it off. Not happening tonight.

“Fine.” She steps back to let me in, and I notice her TV is on but muted. “I’m glad Levi’s doing better,” she says.

“Yeah, me too.” I’m pretty sure everyone is.

As she closes the door and locks it, I move past her bathroom and bed, keeping my focus anywhere but on her. To avoid temptation, I make a point of parting the two layers of blinds and staring out at the Chicago skyline. The blinking lights of Willis Tower give me something to fixate on.

Then, it hits me—the last time we were on the road, Sven spent the night fucking her.

Dammit.

Tower. Focus on the tower.

Might as well rip this thing off like a band-aid.

“ So… Doggie, Spandex and I all know that you’ve been with each of us. You know, separately.”

Ava stiffens, her arms curling around her torso. “What? You guys talked about that?”

“Yeah, we did.” I take a slow step closer, watching the way her chest rises and falls. “But don’t be embarrassed.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. Something Sven or Levi might say. Something that won’t spook her. “We’d like to suggest something.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “We, or you?”

“We,” I repeat. “All three of us.”

She exhales slowly, her lips parting just enough to make me think about how good they feel under mine. “And what exactly are the three of you suggesting?”

Well, here goes everything. I clear my throat, forcing control. “We know it’s not right. But at this point, that line’s already been crossed. And while there’s still a lot to lose… we want you to be ours again.” I take another step, closing the space between us. “Especially me.”

Her expression is unreadable, but her body tells me everything I need to know—the way she stills, the way her breath catches. I lean in, reading the signs.

I k eep moving until she inches back, eventually pressing into the wall with nowhere left to go. I brace one hand on the wall beside her head, caging her in. My other hand lifts, fingers grazing her chin, tilting her face up until her eyes meet mine.

“You see,” I whisper, my thumb brushing over her jaw, “I’m holding back right now. But if I had my way?” My lips hover just inches from hers, my body pulsing with restraint. “I’d rip these clothes off and taste every inch of you all over again.”

She blinks up at me with those doe-like eyes that I love so much.

“We want you, Ava.”