Page 55 of Playing the Pucking Game

“No, I’m just?—”

“Pissed?”

Finally, I pause, my eyes locked on the wall ahead as my heart continues to thump heavily in my chest and the knot in my stomach tightens.

It’s been the same since last night. Since I sat at my own dining room table with the dinner I painstakingly made in front of me. Alone.

I thought that I’d wake up this morning, forget all about the whole embarrassing event, and move on.

But I woke up with images of Parker on repeat in my head, and mortifyingly, a raging boner that I had no choice but to do something about.

And when I came…yeah, it was to an image of her laid out on my dining table as if she was going to be my next meal.

Heat surges through me now just from the memory alone.

It was nothing more than a fantasy, but it’s fucking me up.

The last thing I wanted to do was see her at the arena this morning. I knew without doubt that I’d end up on her table; I just didn’t think she’d have had me benched before that even happened.

I get it. I’ve been playing injured, lying to Lennon and Mitchell. I’ll only hurt myself more in the long run, but I told myself that if I can just get through the season, I’ll have the summer to rehab it, and everything will be good. It was a solid plan. I just had to hide the pain. It was working. Until she walked in.

Now I’m missing practice and our next game.

I’m angry at her, but if I’m being honest, I’m mostly angry with myself. And worst of all, I know that Dad would be ashamed of me.

If we weren’t playing our best season for decades, then I might have gone about it all differently. But that’s not the case. There are still a lot of games to play, but right now, we’re on track for the playoffs, and I refuse to do anything to lessen our chances.

I want it.

I want it so fucking badly.

“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed,” I hiss, finally letting it out.

He questioned me more than once on the flight here, but I kept my lips shut and pretended to sleep. I’m pretty sure he knew I didn’t sleep a wink. How could I when Parker was only a few rows away? What made it even worse was when Marilyn stood in the aisle and spent a good thirty minutes flirting with her. The need to go up there and drag his ass back was all-consuming. I fucking couldn’t, though.

Not only is she Rett’s little sister, but she’s now my trainer.

Off-limits has never been so tempting.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you know she’s doing the same thing. Really, you should be pissed that Lennon or Mitchell hasn’t benched you already.”

“They didn’t know I was carrying this.”

Kodie rolls his eyes.

“Don’t sit there trying to be the big man. You know for a fact that you’d do the same thing. We’re having our best season in forever. We need me.”

“We need you healthy. We’ll cope for a couple of games without you if it means we get the rest of the season with you in your best form.”

He’s right, but it doesn’t lessen my anger at all.

“Parker really gets under your skin, doesn’t she?” he asks, pulling his cell from his pocket before smiling at the screen. No doubt it’s Casey, and he’s going to request I leave the room any minute so they can have some time alone.

Of course, I don’t mind. The two of them are cute as fuck, and I’ve never seen Kodie happier. But there’s a selfish part of me that doesn’t want to share him tonight.

There’s also the risk of what I’ll do when I leave this room.

I may not know where hers is, but it wouldn’t take too much detective work to figure it out. And unlike us, she’ll have a room to herself.