Page 33 of The Worst Pucking Deal

Remus: Funny. That almost sounds like you’re accusing me of something. But that can’t be true, right, Lucia?

Even through texts, I can feel the chill emanating from him. I want to thank my cousin for the marriage certificate, but I don’t. I have no way of knowing who has access to his phone, and since he sent one of his trusted men to deliver the paper without a heads up, I have to assume there was a reason for that.

Besides, if I want to be on my own, I have to deal with this alone. I can’t ask for my freedom one minute, and then the next, ask for help. That’s not how this works.

When my phone rings again, I don’t bother looking at the caller before switching the damn thing off. I don’t have the patience to deal with anyone right now. After shutting the blinds in my bedroom, I undress and get into bed. Refusing to switch my phone on, I set my old-fashioned alarm clock, a present from Gail. She gave it to me seven or so years ago. It was a gag gift, but I can’t for the life of me remember the joke anymore.

Sawyer

I’m the first one on the ice the next morning, and I take full advantage of the quiet. The rink always seems bigger when I’m alone. It reminds me of when I was a kid. Back then, it felt like I was flying, like I was invincible, when I skated the length of the ice.

But of course my whore of a mom ruined that pretty fucking quickly. After dropping me off, she’d hide somewhere nearby with one of her many affairs. At first, I didn’t know exactly what she was doing. I just knew it was wrong. But when you hear your mom moan and beg for cock, you don’t remain oblivious for long.

Shaking my head, I push those thoughts away, and instead focus on turning faster, angling my stick one way, feigning another turn that never comes. I know unpredictability on the ice is my greatest advantage, and I’m not about to let bitter childhood memories take that away.

I pick up speed, skating the length of the rink when I sense movement out of the corner of my eye. But all I see when I turn my head is a perfect ass and red hair disappearing through the door. There’s no mistaking who it belongs to, and I’m not sure I like knowing Lucia is around. I’ve never thought much about her presence before. She’s always just been one of many people buzzing around the arena. But now… I fucking hate that I’m noticing her. Fuck, I even hate the way I discreetly look for her when she isn’t nearby.

Something happened with her yesterday, and at the most inconvenient fucking time as well. I was just about to bust a nut when she… I don’t fucking know. Froze up? No, the look on her face was pure, unadulterated panic. But what the fuck could make her act like that? All I did was ask how she tasted. Hmm, maybe she’s not as sexually open as she wants me to think.

I let out an annoyed breath when my dick stirs to life. “This isn’t the fucking time to wake up,” I mumble to myself.

“Dude, are you really talking to yourself right now?” Soren’s amused voice rings out as he comes onto the ice.

“What can I say? Sometimes I need to talk to someone intelligent.” I shrug and shoot him a shit-eating grin.

He chuckles. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel better.” He looks around, wanting to make sure we’re still alone. We are. “So…”

“So what?” I shoot back, already knowing what he’s fishing for.

He rolls his eyes. “You and Lucia. Don’t we get an update? Because it seems you’ve been busy since Friday.”

I should be happy it looks that way because that’s exactly what we want it to seem like. “We made a deal,” I smirk.

“What kind of deal?” Mickey asks, as he joins us.

This is why I’ve dodged their calls and made sure not to be alone with them for the past few days. It’s one thing to live the charade, another to talk about it. It sounds stupid when I say it all out loud, and believe me, I’ve tried.

“Dude.” Soren interrupts my thoughts. “What’s the deal?”

That’s a good fucking question, and I’m still not entirely sure. Sighing, I decide to start at the beginning. “She made it seem like she didn’t know Tom had already picked her. She wanted to convince me to make her case with our GM.”

Soren whistles and tilts his head to the side. “Really? So why did she chase off the blonde if she didn’t know?”

I shrug. “Fuck if I know. But I promised her I would talk to Tom if she blew me.”

“You fucking didn’t?” Mickey sounds equal parts surprised and impressed.

Nodding, I confirm, “I did. And I did call him after—”

“What are you three standing around gossiping like little girls for? Get fucking moving.” Coach’s voice rings out, sharp and impatient. “I want every one of you on the ice with your stick in your hand within the next ten seconds. Anyone who isn’t ready shouldn’t be on the fucking team. Go.” As soon as he blows his whistle, people start moving.

Fuck me, I hadn’t noticed that we’re no longer alone. Luckily, no one else was close enough to hear our conversation, which is a fucking relief. I still should have paid enough attention to notice everyone has arrived.

Practice is fucking brutal, but in the best way possible. It’s forcing my mind to stay on the puck, and not wonder why the hell Lucia is here this early. What is she doing? Was she serious about letting me use her body? Those are all things I’m definitely not considering.

Coach blows his whistle. “That’s what I’m talking about. You recovered nicely today, but next time, show up with this goddamn energy from the beginning instead of wasting my time. Now get the fuck off my ice. You’re dismissed.” He blows his whistle again, looking mighty satisfied with himself. Which is to say he isn’t scowling. The man only has two expressions; a big scowl and a smaller scowl. That’s it.

We all file into the locker room and hit the showers. While we’re getting dressed, Soren asks, “Are you bringing Lucia to the event this weekend?”

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