Page 14 of Revenge Puck

“Ah, what’s this?” I ask.

“Looks like a Warhawk jersey,” she mutters. “Traitors.”

“Traitors?” I huff indignantly as I turn to Audrey, who is wearing a blue and yellow sundress. It was the best she could do on short notice. “We’re clearly Bobcats fans.”

“Then why did the Warhawks have the tickets and jersey sent over for you?”

“The Warhawks?” I unwrap the sweater-like material, finding the tickets and hold it up in front of me. The jersey is big enough that it could cover me like a blanket. But no, it’s not a blanket. It’s Preston Lawrence’s black jersey with the big bird on the front, number twenty-two sewn in red all over it; and his long name sprawled across the top of the backside.

“Oh my…”

“God!” Audrey finishes. “He gave you his freakin’ jersey! How sweet is he?”

“Like I said, traitors,” the Golden Girl behind the glass remarks again.

“It’s a long story. I’m still a Bobcats fan.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to proclaim my allegiance to our local team, but I do.

“Come on, traitor,” Audrey says, plucking the tickets from my fingers. She grabs my elbow and steers me toward the security check-in line. “Wow, Elle. These seats are so close we’ll be able to smell the sweat coming off the players.”

“Really? How did he get such great tickets at the last minute?”

“Maybe because he has tons of money and was trying to impress you?”

“No. He’s just looking forward to seeing the sign I promised him.”

“He’ll be able to see you alright. Along with the rest of the world,” she remarks. Giving me a hip bump with her bony one, she asks, “So, are you going to wear his jersey or not?”

“I guess I have to, right?” I hold it up in front of me in the security line and hear Bobcats’ fans groan at the sight. “I can’t believe Preston gave me one of his jerseys.”

“Christian never gave you one of his, did he?”

“Ah, no.” I slip the enormous attire on over the top of my shirt and then have to tie a knot at the bottom to keep it from falling to my knees. “Christian did ask me to wear his jersey once…”

“Let me guess, and nothing else?”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!”

Audrey rolls her brown eyes and steps forward when the line moves up. “That man’s ego knows no bounds, does it?”

“Well, he’s gorgeous, and one of the best hockey players in the league, so I guess he had a right to be arrogant.”

“A little humility could go a long way is all I’m saying. How about Preston? Did he seem more down to earth?”

“He seemed more…” I try to figure out how to describe his demeanor. “Preston gave off strong I’ll-rip-your head-off-if-you-look-at-me-the-wrong-way vibes.”

“Wow. Hot.”

“How is that hot?” I ask because I’m honestly curious. I couldn’t help but think the same thing earlier when meeting him, and it doesn’t make any sense. Pretty, clean-cut guys like Christian are my usual type.

“A big, strong man who doesn’t put up with any shit is hot. He’s a protector. A lot of women are into that sort of thing despite being feminists.”

“I guess so…”

“How about this? If there was an apocalypse tomorrow, who would you want by your side, helping you stay alive—a five-foot nothing guy who weighs a hundred pounds or a huge, ripped dude who could carry you to safety in one hand while busting heads with the other?”

“That…that is…when do you have the time to come up with these things, Audrey?”

“I’m single, and I’ve been single for months. Trust me, I have to figure out some way to get through the nights. While you were screwing a hockey player for nearly half a year, I was alone with my thoughts and a plastic penis.”

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