Page 319 of Playing the Pucking Game

Oh Christ.

“I…uh…I should clean up first.”

“Why?” he asks from beneath the sheets. He opens me up with two fingers and blows a stream of air across me. “I know exactly where you’ve been.”

Before I’ve even had a chance to argue, his mouth is on me, my back is arching from the bed, and he’s going to town. And thankfully, this morning, we have the apartment to ourselves, so no one is going to be dragging him away until he’s done.

“Someone looks happy,”Handsy remarks when he arrives in the trainers’ room that afternoon for his session.

“Thanks. Things are good.”

“I’m happy for you. Are you really sure about Linc, though? He can be a real asshole when he wants to be.”

“I am right here,” the man in question barks from the other side of the room, where he’s stretching.

Handsy chuckles as he pulls his shirt off and lies face-down on my table, stating, “I won’t say anything about anyone that I wouldn’t say to their face.”

“Lucky us,” Linc teases before shooting me a wink.

I worked on him earlier, and by some miracle, he was the perfect patient. He didn’t try to touch me once, nor did he make a single inappropriate comment. For a few minutes, I thought I was living in an alternate universe. But then I remembered Esme’s words about being professional, and the bullshit that’sbeing spewed online about our conflict of interest and questions over my ability to do my job properly. Of course, that barely scratches the surface of the bad press we’ve received in the past few days. As predicted, everything about my life and my career has been brought up. Questions about whether I’m even qualified to treat their beloved players, if I’m only here to get closer to the players. I’ve tried my best not to read it, but it’s hard to avoid when it’s the only thing that seems to pop up on my cell.

As soon as I figured out what Linc was doing, I respected him a whole lot more than I already do. He’s trying, really fucking trying, to prove to everyone and anyone that I’m worthy of my position here.

Many of the guys have taken to the internet to fight in my corner, but quite honestly, they could stand out there naked and scream it until they’re blue in the face. The questions will still continue. The women are jealous, and the men don’t think I belong in their world. I get it. It’s something I’m sure I’m going to be fighting as long as my career lasts.

Hopefully, it’ll get easier. As more women step into roles like mine, the more normal it will become, but we’ve still got a way to go.

“Anyone invited you to the Valentine’s gala yet, Parker?” Handsy asks after I’ve warmed my hands and started working on loosening his shoulder.

“Uh…no, actually. No one has. I wonder if any of the guys still need a date.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Linc freeze.

“Any of them would be lucky to have you on their arm.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Linc growls.

“Do you mind?” Handsy mocks. “I’m having a private conversation with my trainer.”

“Parker will be coming to the gala with me.”

I smirk, loving the possessive tone in his voice.

“I might already have other plans. No one has asked me yet,” I taunt.

A chuckle rumbles through Handsy. “Parker, would you do me the honor of?—”

“Do not finish that fucking sentence, Cole,” Linc warns.

“Whoa, Storm is pulling out the big guns there with first names,” Handsy laughs.

“Will you two stop?”

“Hell no. No one hits on my girl in front of me.” Linc is on his feet now, glaring at Handsy—not that he can see; his head is shoved in the hole in the bed.

“I wasn’t hitting on anyone. I was simply inviting her on a night out, seeing as her boyfriend has failed to do so.”

“For the love of God,” I mutter, aware that I’m not going to be able to stop this.