Page 8 of Flirty Pucking Wolf

3

TREVOR

The weather isbeautiful in Florida. My parents live in Orlando, and with the warm sunshine, I understand the appeal, but I’m a fan of having four seasons. They’re semi-retired from their careers as a patent attorney—Dad—and a chemical engineer—Mom. They’re both type A personalities, hence being onlysemi-retired.

Our bus pulls up in front of the hotel we’re at for the next few days. It’s a Clardmore. We usually stay at one of their properties whenever possible—they’re a shifter-owned company. The shifters that own them? Sophie’s family. It’s right next door to the Florida Storm Chasers’ arena. The Chasers aren’t a shifter hockey team. They’re part of the regular pro human hockey league. The PHL doesn’t have a team in Florida, so it was chosen as neutral ground—and because people want to come to Florida in January. In future years, the All-Star Game will be held in the arena of whatever team wins the Dickinson Cup the prior season. So, I’m betting next year’s game will be in Atlantic City, and I’m pretty sure only polar bear shifters like Bedard will hit the beach then.

Sophie and Randi are sitting on the opposite side of the bus, and they’re leaning over to peer at the hotel through my window.

“Did you know about this?” Randi asks Sophie.

Sophie shakes her head and looks at Randi like she’s crazy. “No, I have nothing to do with the hotels and I’m not consulted on Devil Birds travel plans.” With a grin, she adds, “At least we know the beds will be comfy.”

“True. And you can probably get me a free dessert or something at dinner.”

Sophie giggles. “Way to dream big, Miranda. I don’t know if Declan’s going to be able to afford you.”

“Who’s saying I won’t be keeping him in the style he’s accustomed to? I have a trust from my grandmother that’ll help make my future more comfortable.”

“Randi, you’ve already started spending that trust fund. And it’ll take some work before you’re comfortable,” I say with a wink. She’s trying to purchase a farm that’s for sale across the street from me.

“What are you doing?” Sophie asks.

“I can’t say anything yet because nothing is definite. As soon as I can discuss it, you’ll be one of the first to know. I promise.” Miranda’s gray eyes are earnest as she makes her vow. Her fingers are crossed, but I can tell by her expression it’s in hopefulness for whatever she has in the works. Miranda isn’t the deceitful type. Never has been.

We file into the hotel lobby, and I get my room assignment from Daphne. We’re all on the same floor, which is convenient from an organization standpoint, but makes it tricky to hook up with anyone. No one wants to be caught doing the walk of shame in yesterday’s clothes by your teammate’s granny.

The atmosphere at the hotel and in the arena is incredible. There are meet and greets with the players where fans get to have items signed and their pictures taken. The different teams have parties for their fans and there are fun skill challenges for the players.

A few hours later, we’re all suited up and about to start the skills competition. I love the jerseys—The Atlantic Conference were given gray jerseys, Central Conference has red, and Western Conference is white. The crowd erupts with cheers and even some boos as we skate around the ice. The stands are a rainbow of jerseys from all the different teams represented in the skills competitions. Even though we’re in Florida, the chill of the rink has folks bundled up in hoodies. I spot Sophie and Randi and skate over to the bench closest to them. I wave Sophie over, and she joins me at the glass.

Between raising my voice and lip reading, I’m able to talk to her. “I got jerseys for you and Randi. One is a spare of mine, and the other is one of Mac’s. They had already made up his jerseys before he was injured and still had them in the locker room. I asked if I could have them for his sister and girlfriend and they gave them to me. I don’t know if Randi wants to wear his. That’s why I picked one of each—you can decide how to divvy it up. Since you’re my dance partner for the show, it wouldn’t be weird if you wore my jersey.”

The smile she gives me takes my breath away, and it feels like when Ollie King from the Sasquatch runs into me.

“Thank you! Oh, Trevor, you’re so sweet!”

I use the blade of my stick to raise the jerseys over the glass and she catches them as they fall down. I do it quickly so we don’t get the crowd clamoring for freebies, and she scrambles back up to their seats. I’m keeping half an eye on them as I skate away, and Sophie is pulling my jersey on over her head. I like that she chose me over her brother.

The jerseys are huge on the girls. Sophie does something with a hair tie to bunch it up and make it cute. It would be even sexier if that was all she was wearing. Turning around and looking over her shoulder with a coy smile, so all I see is my last name and her smiling face. I don’t know why that turns me on. I’m never giving a woman my last name. My branch of the family tree is sprouting no limbs.

Speaking of my last name, I realize it was just announced, and the crowd is cheering while I’m staring at Sophie and fantasizing about things I’d like to do with her. Reluctantly, I tear my gaze away and acknowledge the cheers. I’m here as one of the best players in the league, and I should be focused on one thing alone. But the image of Sophie in my jersey and imagining her one day flashing me a come-hither smile over her shoulder has me half hard. Which is uncomfortable while wearing a cup.

“Look like you’ve been hitting the casino buffets there, Carter. Good luck hauling your fat carcass around the rink,” Kel Fessel, a coyote shifter forward for the Omaha Ogres, chirps at me.

The other contestants around us laugh. I give him a good-natured shin tap back.

“Don’t worry about me, Fessel. It’s a shame they don’t have a hot-dog-eating contest. At least then you’d have a chance to win something. Something to suggest for next year when the game’s in Atlantic City.”

One of the Colorado Cryptids players, a lion shifter, joins in.

“No one wants the Birds to win the Dickinson Cup, but a weekend in Atlantic City sounds fun.”

“Hey, don’t forget Vegas!” a fellow wolf shifter who plays for the Area 51 Aliens, says.

After a weekend in Vegas, chances are none of us would remember anything. We laugh then skate off in different directions to get things started.

My teammates perform well in their events. Stone’s sister, Bridget “Brick” Waller, wins the goalie competition by stopping the most goals in a row. My team captain, Burke Bedard, is the champion of the hardest slapshot event.

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