Page 15 of Knot Your Rebel

Logging into the app I downloaded onto her computer, her picture flashes before me. One last look, I promise myself. She’s sleeping on her side in bed, legs curled up. Several strands of blonde hair cover her face, keeping her beauty from me. Her arms are curled in front of her as if she’s holding herself while she sleeps.

“Fuck,” I say, dragging a hand through my hair. I need to be at practice in a few hours, but I have time for a quick nap. My bed calls to me like a distant lover. Hauling myself from the chair, I head over to the bed and get in. I’ll check on Rebel in a few hours. My eyes close, and a few minutes later, I’m lost to the darkness; lost to the hysteria of her invading every part of my sleep. It’s peaceful.

seven - tate

. . .

The lyrical stylings of Avicii pump through the speakers as I push through the doors of the arena a few hours later, ready to practice. Coach plays music at each practice because he thinks it pumps us up. For me, it just becomes the background noise, much like it is at the games. Sometimes, I don’t even notice it. Today, I’m hyper aware of it and finding I am not a fan.

I’m still tired after hitting snooze on my alarm one too many times, but I’m probably better off now than I was at six thirty this morning. I wave to a few of the guys already on the ice before heading towards the locker room.

“Hey, Tate.” Her voice sounds so sweet, but I know that it's coated in deadly poison. Jen Blackburn, beat journalist for the local paper, is the thorn in my side. Everyone hates her, so we trade off who has to deal with her when she hangs around. I guess today is my lucky day. Joyous.

Shaking my head, I sigh. “Jen.” I nod hello and continue walking, listening to the clack of her heels against the floor beneath us as her short legs almost jog to keep up with my long stride.

“So, tell me. What’s the news these days? Dating anyone new? Any prospects on the horizon? Any juicy gossip for me?” She talks a mile a minute, and I swear, I have to keep the eye rolling to a minimum.

“You should know by now that I’m not going to give you anything. Why in the hell would I give you the tea to use against my friends? Please tell me you aren’t really that stupid.” I stop walking, and she runs right into me. I sigh, leveling her with my best fuck off glare. She bristles briefly before a smile stretches across her plain face.

She steps into me, and her hand runs up my arm. “I could make it worth your time.” Her eyelashes flutter, and I have to refrain from saying what's dying to come out of my mouth because although I can be a dick to her, I can’t go overboard. It wouldn’t, unfortunately, look good for the team for me to tell her to go pound salt. To tell her that trying to use that nasty cunt of hers on any of us to get the latest scoop is really below her.

So, instead of spewing the hateful words that brew within, I simply smile at her and jerk my arm away. “As always, it wasn’t a pleasure, Jan.”

She scoffs. “It's Jen.” Looking back over my shoulder one last time, I grin.

“Sure thing, Jill.” The annoyance in her voice fuels my soul as a smile graces my lips. Jen mumbles something under her breath, and I assume she’s cussing me out. Well, she can kindly fuck off a cliff somewhere for all I care.

I slip my mouth guard in before tipping my head back and pulling my helmet down into place, and then step out onto the ice.

There’s still a few guys who haven’t shown up yet, but Drake is there digging his way around the crease so he has better traction. Instead of going towards him, I move to the opposite end and claim that goal. Leon holds his stick up to slap it in hello as I pass. A few other guys nod hellos. Our captain, Arden, and his best friend slash assistant captain, Gavin, briefly give me a what’s up before getting back into whatever conversation they were having.

I’m still tired, and my body is sore from all my after hours stalking. I haven’t been sleeping much, and I’m really hoping skills and instinct run to the forefront at practice today because I don’t feel like getting my ass chewed by Coach; definitely not in the mood.

Scuffing the crease up to my satisfaction, I skate over to the side of the rink where the rest of the team is stretching. My eyes immediately find the journalists sitting above the entrance to the rink, and they’re faces are glazed over, watching the guys.

It’s something to do with us looking like we’re humping the ice, but seriously, how else are we supposed to stretch out?

And who the fuck would hump the ice?

Unless the thought of pain by frostbite on your dick and major shrinkage is your idea of fun.

But now that I’m thinking about it, I’m thinking about Rebel and bringing her here to fuck her. Maybe in the penalty box so no one else can see her?

Or, fuck it, right on the ice in front of my net with a blanket under her ass?

Or on the bench?

Damnit, getting a boner in a jock is a certain type of hell, but luckily, no one knows my cock’s trying to tent my goalie pants with all the padding underneath them.

Drake skates over with a big grin on his face. He’s wearing the white practice jersey today, a stark contrast to my black one. His bad boy, charming smile all the chicks fall for, is plastered across his face. “You fucking with Jen again today?”

I shake my head and chuckle. “It’s just too damn easy.” We both look towards the stands, where the reporters are all chatting with each other. Jen stands in the middle as if she is holding court; the others give her their full attention like a brood of vipers. Oh, the accuracy of that thought.

“She propositioned me last week.” He cringes as he says it.

“Same, today.” I frown, thinking about her grabby little paw on my arm. A devilish smile breaches my face. “How would you feel about having a little bit of fun?”

He smirks, eyeing me with curiosity. “What kind of fun are we talking about?”