Page 20

ERIK

W hen I make up my mind, I stick to it. There’s no in-between. Kayden didn’t understand that, but he would need to become a quick learner if he expected to get anywhere with me.

You’re probably wondering if he said anything more about sex or a first date after our little interlude behind La Nova Pizza. This is Kayden Preston we’re talking about. He never shuts up, ergo he said plenty.

He made little comments and dropped hints—always about sex itself, but not about our smoking hot hookup, and never about going on a date.

Anything he could do to approach the subject without tackling it head-on.

That didn’t surprise me. I know guys like him far too well.

They hear, but they don’t listen. They reject the usual rules because they only apply to other people.

And they act like they’ll always get whatever they want, even if you’ve made your position abundantly clear.

But he was all-business on the ice, right? Right?

Sorry to disappoint you. He stayed exactly the same with the skates on as when they were off.

He eyed me when our teammates weren’t looking.

He whispered little comments when I was close enough to hear him, but never loud enough for the guys to notice.

He acted like he was joking, but I could tell he was dead serious.

In other words, he got away with anything he could.

I didn’t respond to the comments. You can’t give guys like him any satisfaction.

The moment you do, you’re playing their game, which is totally bad news.

But I knew Kayden was as determined to win me over as I was to reject him.

Wait, rejection is the wrong word. That implies I wanted nothing to do with him no matter the circumstances.

No, I wanted to keep him in check and control the narrative.

Soon, he turned his aggression back to hockey, slipping in front of me, and stealing every puck.

He’d grown even more competitive than before.

I could deal with that. It was hockey. What I couldn’t deal with was how he handled it. When Kayden stole the puck yet again, he grinned at me widely before racing up the ice. I chased him, determined to steal it back but also wipe that smile off his face.

“You’ve got to make a point, don’t you?” I asked.

“Don’t like it? Come stop me.”

He wasn’t wrong. That’s hockey. You never want your opponent stealing the puck from you, but it’s your job to stop him. If you can’t stop him, you’ve got to chase him up the ice to reclaim it.

But the edge in his voice…it went way beyond hockey.

I’m not stupid. I knew what routine he was putting on.

He was pissed that I’d rebuffed every one of his not-so-subtle advances.

He totally wasn’t used to that. He wouldn’t let me keep doing it either.

Think of it as his way of saying No More Mister Nice Guy.

But I wouldn’t back down.

“Maybe I will,” I said.

“Okay, come on, bro. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

That sounded like a challenge to me. I was game.

Before I could do anything, he pushed me. It wasn’t hard enough to qualify as a shove, but he used enough force to cancel out an accident. He was sending a message, saying he didn’t need to spend much energy to push me out of the way. He considered me that much of a lightweight.

That I was nothing.

So, that was how he wanted to play. I would show him I was no wimp.

When he stole the puck from me yet again, I chased him up the ice.

When I advanced on the puck, he escaped, and I slammed into the boards.

Totally a bad look, I know, but I had no quit in me.

I came back with a vengeance, speeding up beside him and elbowing my teammate in the side.

Then I jammed my stick in front of his, trying to sweep the puck away but failed.

I wouldn’t stop until I had it. If Kayden wanted competition, I would give it to him.

When I checked him into the boards, the puck came loose, and I swiped it away.

God, that felt like such a triumph. I even laughed a little from the excitement. Maybe that sounds crazy, but it really isn’t. No matter what you could say about Kayden Preston, he really was an amazing hockey player. You’ve got to celebrate the little victories any time you get an edge over him.

Still, you have to keep your focus, and I’m not in the business of looking back while on the ice.

Normally. When you have the puck, you ride that head of steam all the way to the net.

Except I couldn’t help myself when it was Kayden, especially after seeing that stupid smile.

Checking him into the boards wasn’t enough for me. I had to show him up once and for all.

Kayden would be pissed about the shot I’d given him alone.

That wasn’t all bad. I liked to keep a cool head even in practice, but you’ve got to play the game with emotion.

I played with joy, savoring every moment of playing the greatest game on earth.

Kayden played angry, especially when anyone—particularly the guy who refused to give him more sex until he met certain demands—got a leg up on him.

Kayden’s eyes burned. He wasn’t screwing around any more than I was.

He charged at me, but I fired the puck into the net before he could do anything.

That stopped the action, at least for the moment.

Once my engines were running, I couldn’t shut them down.

I smiled at Kayden as a reminder that I was his equal.

No, no, wait. I reminded my teammate that I would always get the best of him.

His face reddened. Look, my smile was totally innocent, an expression of pride in my play.

His smile had been arrogant. If he couldn’t handle that then he shouldn’t have been on the ice.

Coach Hardison blew the whistle and announced a short break.

We all exited the ice, but Kayden didn’t sit beside me on the bench like before.

He sat at the very end as far from me as possible, like I was driving him nuts.

Gee, whatever happened to reclaiming the puck if I didn’t like him stealing it?

If this was his way of sulking, he was doing a terrible job.

Besides, it wouldn’t make me back down—on the ice or in the bedroom.

In fact, it would only make him look worse.

I had this idea that this would be enough to convince Kayden to see things my way. A real date before we shed our clothes again would be perfect. Like I said, it was an idea. Reality had other plans.

When Coach Hardison blew his whistle to summon us back to the ice, I felt determined to show him up again. I shouldn’t have been thinking about dates and sex right now. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Kayden and I faced off again at center ice.

I saw the fire in his eyes, knowing what he wanted from me.

I returned the stare, reminding him of what he had to do to get it.

When the puck dropped, I snatched it right away, but kept it for only a second.

Ryan Detenbeck slipped in and showed the rest of the Larkin Lions what he could do.

I chased him up the ice and Kayden followed, but out of nowhere I felt Kayden’s shoulder strike me.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Kayden said nothing.

Of course not. I was supposed to just figure it out.

After how he’d already behaved in practice, I knew why. Forget that he’d hit me seriously hard. This was more than showing me and our teammates how tough he was, more than showing his worth as team captain. He’d gotten rough to punish me for rejecting him.

I slipped away from Kayden and chased after Detenbeck, trying and failing to steal the puck from him. And then it happened. Kayden charged, nailing me to the boards. I didn’t even have the puck. This shot would’ve made Trevor Trombley hurl.

It probably looked a lot worse than it really was. Like, it didn’t knock me out the way Trombley’s shot did. Still, it was stiff, brutal, and total bullshit. I landed on the ice, feeling like the asshole of the universe, even though Kayden had been in the wrong.

Fire consumed me. I almost didn’t know what that level of anger really felt like, but that shot flipped a switch inside me. That fire grew hotter and hotter the longer I stayed down.

I couldn’t just stay down, couldn’t do nothing. I had to act.

“You little son of a bitch!” I said through gritted teeth as I pulled myself up from the ice.

Look, I might be cool-headed…usually, but even I have my limits. No way would I take this shit. If I didn’t do something right now, Kayden would think he could walk all over me—and he would’ve been right.

I heard Coach Hardison’s whistle blow, stopping the play, but that didn’t mean shit to me. My engine was revving up, ready for overdrive. Yeah, I’ve always been taught to play smart, but I’ve also learned to defend myself any time someone pulls some serious bullshit on me.

At that moment, I didn’t care that my feelings for Kayden had changed. I didn’t care that our tongues had entered each other’s mouths. That we’d had the hottest sex in the universe felt like a distant memory now. After that cheap shot, Kayden Preston became public enemy number one.

When I climbed to my feet, I panned the ice until I found Kayden. He wore a deer-in-headlights look, like he honestly hadn’t expected a wimp like me to retaliate. But I would show him. I charged at Kayden, drove my shoulder into his chest, and slammed him down onto the ice.

Then I stood up, dropped my gloves, daring him to come at me.

“How do you like that, motherfucker?” I asked. “ Huh? ”

Kayden sat up, head wobbling. He didn’t bother to clear the cobwebs before hurrying back to his feet. He teetered a little but steadied himself short of falling on his ass.

I was ready for him.

When he darted at me, I threw a fist, but missed.

He’d ducked his head, driving his shoulder into my chest like I’d done to him, but he couldn’t drop me onto the ice.

I grabbed at his jersey, meaning to pull it over his head, but our teammates had crowded around us.

A different teammate hooked each arm and another had thrown his arms around Kayden’s waist, trying to pull us apart.

Where the hell were these guys when Kayden had delivered his cheap shot?

I heard a cacophony of teammates’ voices, shouting, “Break it up!” and, “Come on, guys, time to chill the fuck out!”.

But I didn’t care. I told you that I couldn’t shut my engine down once it’d revved up.

I continued the fight anyway, straining against my teammates’ arms, but could do nothing.

When they finally pulled us apart, Coach Hardison himself grabbed me and pushed me back to the penalty box, as if in a real game.

The coach had to know this wasn’t normal for me. I had my own way of taking a stand, but this one called for stronger measures.

Just one problem: What would I tell the coach when he asked what really started this?