Page 2 of On Thin Ice

He’s still looking at me like I’m his favourite snack, not saying a word and it’s making me want to reach over and slap the smug grin off his gorgeous face. He finally clears his throat and I realise that I’m staring at his mouth, the pink of his lips tempting me in accompanied by his deliciously sexy dimples and extremely arrogant grin. Absolutely not, I will never be seen dead going home with a guy like him, like I said I don’t do hook ups anyway and even if I did I’d have better taste than a walking ad for chlamydia like Sean Taylor.

“Hey,” He says, his swampy eyes trapping me for a split second before I remember who I’m sitting next to.

As tempting as it is to be rude to this giant hunk of arrogance, I decide to try and be civil, hoping his time in here with me goes quickly so I can go back to my scrolling and nail picking.

I sigh, full of boredom and indifference. “What you in for?”

“It’s not prison,” He snickers and I turn back to my phone. He has to be annoying the second he opens his mouth doesn’t he?

My obvious disinterest in him clearly has him confused. I don’t think a girl has ever been less interested in him than I am. Like I said, he’s painfully hot, but his ‘I’m the king of the rink’ attitude overrides his hotness the second he opens his mouth.

“It’s hockey prison.” I say, still not looking at him.

He barks a laugh. “I was sentenced to 5 minutes for tripping, which is bullshit because I didn’t even trip him.”

There’s the ‘I didn’t do it’ mantra that I was waiting for.

“Actually,” he says, twisting his whole body towards mine and I purposefully shuffle further away from him down the bench. “I did trip him, I tripped him on purpose so I could get sent in here.”

“You purposefully got a penalty?” I ask, his shit eating grin glowing back at me. “Wow, what a shitty captain you are leaving your boys a man down for 5 whole minutes.”

His smile widens further and my stomach does a backflip. “I wanted to talk to you.” He grins, caramel eyes flitting across my freckled cheek bones.

There he goes again with the arrogance, I’m sick of hockey boys thinking just because they’re tall, painfully handsome and sexy that girls will automatically drop their pants. I’m not denying that most of the hockey team are fine as hell, Sean Taylor being at least ten times hotter than the rest of them, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to dive into bed with him, begging him to give me the pleasure of his dick for one night. “Yeah, ok, look, the smooth talking isn’t going to work on me, so save your breath. Unfortunately for you I’m immune to your boyish charms.” I let out an aggravated sigh, letting my irritation for him get the better of me. His eyes float between mine, washing with a sparkle of excitement mixed with the absolute confusion that any girl couldn’t want him.

“There’s nothing boyish about what I want to do to you.” He smirks, a devilish grin spreading across his cheeks.

A flabbergasted scoff leaves my lips before I can stop it and Sean’s face changes. “You’re really living up to the whole fuck boy, sleaze bag, man whore image that I already have of you.”

I twist my body completely away from his and check the clock on the scoreboard. Still two and a half minutes of torture left in here with this buffoon of a man whilst he desperately tries to claw his way into my pants. I keep my eyes on the game for a few seconds, but Sean never takes his sparkling gaze off the side of my face. He’s so fucking annoying. “What?” I spit, catching him by surprise and watching as his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

“Woah tiger,” He laughs, the cocky smile never leaving his face. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that his eyes keep falling to my tits. I brush the uncontrollable mane of curls over my shoulder and cross one leg over the other with a huff, turning away from him again and ignoring him completely.

“So, are you enjoying the game? You don’t seem to be actually watching it.” He says and I continue to ignore him. I can hear the smile in his voice, like he’s enjoying this game of cat and mouse between us. Little does he know that this mouse is like a cheetah and can outrun his flirty pursuit no problem. “You must have paid a lot of money to sit here during a game like this.”

“Ha,” I scoff and reluctantly meet his cocky smile. “Pay for this? You must be joking.”

“Well, you must be a big fan to be sat in the penalty box, bet you’re starstruck meeting me aren’t you?”

Urgh, this man is insufferable.

“You’re not going to stop talking to me are you?”

A slow smile crosses his face. “No,”

I let out a loud, impatient sigh. “The fact you don’t know that I’m your coach’s daughter just proves how self absorbed you really are.” “There’s no way you’re Coach’s daughter, I would have seen you around before. And trust me, there’s not a chance in hell I would have laid eyes on you and not taken you home with me.” He coos, leaning closer. His woodsy aftershave is deliciously manly and I fight back the drool that wants to escape. No way is this asshole going to get to me that easily. “Wow, your head is so big we can barely fit in this box together.” I huff and he barks a laugh, leaning back against the bench, arms folded behind his head. “You know a lot of the guys on your team are hot, you’re not the only one.”

“Ha!” He sits up, pointing his finger at me playfully. “You think I’m hot.” I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m not blind Taylor.”

He laughs again. Why does this fuck head laugh at me constantly? It’s like he’s hating the fact that I have no interest in him, but revelling it in at the same time.

“So now that we’ve established that we’re both hot as fuck, are you coming home with me after the game?”

Now it's my turn to laugh, albeit dryly. “You don’t even know my name you pig!”

He stands to his feet, the seconds ticking by as his time in the sin bin comes to an end, thank god.

“Yes, I do Callie.” He sings, thirty-seconds left before he can go back on the ice and stop irritating the shit out of me.

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