Page 46 of One Good Puck (Denver Bashers #5)

Gavin

“ H ow about a round of tequila shots?” Xander asks. “Coach, you in?”

I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m heading out with Abby once she’s back from the bathroom.”

“Hey, Coach. What nickname did your teammates call you when you played?” Camden asks. He hiccups, clearly tipsy.

“I had a few. Can’t remember them,” I say.

“Gavvy Boy was the one you liked the most, right?” Sophie says sweetly.

I look at her and sigh. “Yeah.” I glance around at the guys, who are all fighting smiles. “And if any of you ever call me that, I’ll bench you for the rest of the season.”

The sound of glass shattering echoes from the middle of the bar. We all look over, but can’t see anything. It’s too crowded.

“Don’t touch me.”

Abby’s panicked voice sends a shiver down my spine.

I bolt up out of my chair and look in the direction of her voice. I see her standing by the bar, glaring at some guy who’s grabbing her arm. She tries to pull away, but he doesn’t let her go.

Anger and protectiveness blast through me. And then he turns, and I see his face.

That anger inside of me turns to raw, unfettered rage when I see Zach McCoy with his hands on Abby.

I don’t know if I’ve ever cleared twenty feet of space that quickly in my life.

It’s like my body is reacting on pure instinct. I don’t even have to think. In a split second, I’m grabbing McCoy by the back of his neck and pulling him away from Abby.

I throw him against the bar. “Don’t fucking touch her.”

McCoy’s eyes go wide when he sees me.

“What the…Coach Porter? What are you?—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I boom. “You put your hands on a woman when she tells you not to, you fucking scumbag?”

The confusion on his face melts away. His eyes narrow in anger.

“Screw you,” he bites.

I turn to Abby, my heart pounding in my chest. She’s staring at me, eyes wide with shock.

“Are you okay?”

She blinks and nods. “Yeah.”

I step over to her, glancing at her arm. “Did he hurt you?”

She shakes her head. I step toward her, but stop when McCoy speaks.

“You heard the news, right? I’m playing for Calgary now,” he says smugly.

Anger flashes through me even though I knew it was a possibility that another team in the league would pick him up. It’s beyond fucked up. What he did should disqualify him from ever playing again, but some teams just don’t care what their players do off the ice.

I ignore what he said. I touch my hand to the small of Abby’s back and lead her away from him.

“Can’t wait to play you guys next week.” I’m not facing him, but I can sense the smirk in his voice. “And I can’t wait to show you what a mistake it was to get rid of me. You’re gonna regret it.”

I walk off with Abby as he keeps talking.

“And you’re gonna regret choosing that washed-up loser instead of me, babe,” McCoy says to Abby.

I feel her tense under my touch.

“That’s why you’re so pissed, isn’t it, Porter? You know that the second she rides my cock, she’d pick me over you.”

My blood boils at the disgusting way he speaks to her.

“I could even take a few photos when I’m fucking her,” McCoy taunts. “I could share them with you—with everyone. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? The whole world seeing your girl’s tits and pussy.”

He laughs. That rage I’ve been shoving down explodes. It’s like a nuclear bomb going off inside of me. Every muscle in my body is aching to rip this piece of shit to shreds. Fine if he wants to shit talk me. I don’t care. But the second he brings up Abby, it’s game fucking over.

No one threatens her. No one disrespects her. Ever.

I turn around, walk up to him, and punch him in the face.

There’s a loud crunching noise, and his head flies back. He groans and mutters a curse, cupping his face in his hands as he falls against the bar top. Blood drips from his hands.

I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him up to me. His face is twisted in pain and covered in blood. When he looks up at me, his eyes widen the slightest bit. Probably out of surprise. I don’t think he was expecting me, a guy pushing fifty, to break his nose.

“What the fuck did you just say?” I bite out through gritted teeth. He glares at me.

“Say it again, motherfucker. Mention my girlfriend again. I fucking dare you.”

When he blinks, there’s a flash of terror in his eyes.

He swallows hard, then shakes his head slightly.

“If you ever talk about her again, I’ll kill you.”

I let go of his shirt, and he falls to the ground. And that’s when I finally notice that the entire bar has gone quiet. I look around and see every single person in this place staring at me.

Awareness hits. I just punched McCoy in front of a crowded bar. I’m probably going to get kicked out. And arrested.

A tough-looking woman in her sixties frowns at me. I remember the guys saying hi to her earlier. She’s the owner of this bar. Darlene is her name, I think.

I brace myself for her to tell me that she’s going to call the police, but then she looks at McCoy.

“Get the hell out of my bar,” she says to him.

He frowns like he’s never been more confused. “You’re kicking me out? I’m the one who got punched!”

“Yeah. Because you were groping and threatening this poor woman.” She nods to Abby, who’s standing off to the side, watching this all go down, her eyes wide as she watches us.

Darlene drops a washcloth on McCoy. “Clean yourself up and leave.”

He pulls himself up by the edge of the bar. “I’ll call the police on you.” He turns to me. “And you. ”

“Do it. I’ll tell them that you were harassing and groping her and threatening her, and that’s why you got hit,” Darlene says. “This whole bar will say you got hit in self-defense. Go ahead and try it.”

McCoy scans the bar, glaring. Everyone is glaring back at him.

“This is such bullshit,” he mutters before stomping out of the bar.

I look at Darlene. “Thank you.”

She shrugs. “Thank you for knocking him out. I was tempted to smash a beer bottle over his head. Little prick.” She turns to Abby. “You alright, hun?”

Abby nods and offers a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Sorry about everything,” I say to Darlene. I grab my wallet and hand her a bunch of cash. “I don’t think he paid his tab.”

She lets out a hoarse chuckle. “You pay other people’s tabs, and you punch out creeps. You’re always welcome in my bar.”

She walks off with the cash. I turn to Abby. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah.” A second later, her expression turns hesitant. “So, um, you called me your girlfriend…”

I replay what I said to McCoy a minute ago. Shit .

Abby’s probably freaked out at hearing me say that. We agreed that we’re just friends, but then I called her my girlfriend in the middle of a fight with that shithead McCoy.

“Abby, I’m sorry, I…”

“Can we maybe talk about this outside? In private?” she says in a soft voice.

I swallow back my nerves and nod.

We head to our table. “We’re taking off,” I say to everyone. I can feel the quiet tension skimming off of everyone as they look at me. They’re probably all still processing what the hell just happened between McCoy and me.

Abby and I head out of the bar. I follow her as she walks to the end of the block, then rounds the corner into a darkened alley.

She walks halfway toward the end and looks at me, eyes big, cheeks flushed.

I tug a hand through my hair. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I got caught up in the moment, and I wasn’t thinking when I called you my girlfriend.”

Her brow furrows slightly, and she shakes her head. “Gavin, it’s okay. I…” She trails off, swallowing hard. “I like that you called me your girlfriend.”

I go quiet for a second and stare at her. “You do?”

She starts to smile. “Yeah.”

It takes an embarrassingly long moment for my brain to process what she’s saying.

“Wait, does that mean…do you want to be my girlfriend, Abby?”

Her smile widens, reaching her eyes. “Yeah.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I let out a breath, relieved and happy all at once.

And then I step closer, cup her face in my hands, and kiss her.