Page 26 of Her Puck Daddies

We didn’t have sex, yet what she did to me was definitely sexual. No gray area, no way to spin it otherwise. And fuck—if it wasn’t wrong, if it wasn’t risky, then why the hell have I replayed it every damn night in the shower since?

I should take her out—just the two of us—reassure her or something. Let her know Imeantwhat I said about keeping my mouth shut. I’d never rat us out.

So, after eating with the guys, I try to track her down at the opposing team’s stadium, scanning every hallway, every corner.But she’s nowhere to be found. Likely buried in back-to-back appointments.

Later that evening, I step out of my hotel room, ice bucket in hand, heading for the alcove by the bank of elevators. The machine is slow as molasses, plinking the cubes against the plastic by only a handful at a time, when I catch Ava stepping past the automatic sliding doors.

“Hey,” I greet her, my bucket only halfway full. At the sound of my voice, her shoulders shoot up around her ears.

Holy shit. Did she just cringe?

As if hesitant to talk to me, she gradually pivots in place. “Yes?”

“Want to grab some dinner or something?”

“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

“But you have to eat,” I remind her.

“Already have.”

I don’t buy it. Not for a second. She takes forever just to push her hair behind her ear, and she still won’t meet my eyes. Instead, her focus stays locked on the swirling pattern of the carpet, like it suddenly holds the meaning of life.

“Did you uh… Did you still want that appointment two hours before the game tomorrow?”

Wouldn’t have made it if I didn’t. The snide response rolls through my head, but I bite it back, keeping my tone neutral. No point in making this more awkward than it already is.

“Yeah, if you can swing it.”

She glances down the hall one way, then the other, like she’s mapping out the fastest escape route. Like just standing here with me is unbearable.

I glance around, too, but not because I’m looking for a way out. I just need to make sure no one else is around. Then, before she can bolt, I reach out and catch her arm. Not rough, not forceful—gentle. Just enough to make her stop. To make her listen.

Because all she’s done since our last appointment isfreak out. At least around me. And I need her tonotdo that right now.

“Ava, I…”

Before I can say another word, the elevator dings, and Jax and Ryan step out, pizza boxes in hand. They nod as they pass, the smell alone enough to make my mouth water any other time.

Right now, I don’t care.

Ava’s still tense beneath my touch, and I need to talk to her before she slips away again.

“I’ve equipped the room next to the gym for appointments,” she blurts out, yanking free of my grip like my touch burns her. She barely takes two steps before the other elevator pings open.

Levi troops out.

“There you are,” he says, his focus locked on me—until he notices that I’m reaching for Ava.

His steps slow and his expression changes. His gaze flicks between us, sharp and assessing, taking in the tension thick enough to choke on.

Ava freezes mid-step and I lower my arm, aware of how this looks.

For five long, charged seconds, none of us move or say anything. Levi is trying to piece the situation together just by looking at us. His jaw ticks.

Then, Ava backs away as if as uncomfortable around Levi as she is around me.

What’s that all about?I don’t ask, though.