Page 16 of Revenge Puck

“You got your photo. He upped the ante to include a kiss that the world will see, which makes me think he’s on board with the idea of being your fake boyfriend.”

“A photo was all I wanted from him, and he was kind enough to do that. I think that means it’s over.”

“Over? No, it can’t just be over!”

“What do you want me to do? Go wait for him by the bus and ask him to come home with me tonight to celebrate his big win?”

“Yes, that is exactly what you should say!”

Shaking my head, I bark out a laugh. “No. That’s not going to happen. I just ended things with Christian. And while I felt some sparks from the kiss, that doesn’t mean Preston felt them too.”

I don’t tell my friend about the other part of him I felt while we were lip locked to verify the statement on my sign.

A sign which is probably about to be circulating widely around social media.

Preston

One look at Riley during pregame warmups and I can tell he’s already heard about me and Elle. How do I know? His usual smirk is nowhere to be found on his pretty boy face. He looks annoyed, also a little nervous. The cocky shit has never made it to the finals before, and he knows I’m going to be gunning for him every second we’re both on the ice.

Elle is right. The son of a bitch does look scared.

“Oh, shit,” my teammate Cade says. “I’ve never seen that psycho smile on your face before, Pres. Whatever you’re planning, just don’t murder the arrogant prick before we win the championship.”

There’s a smile on my face? Reaching up, I have to feel around my facial hair to find and trace my lips through my gloves.

I’ll be damned. There is a smile.

And for the first time in years, seeing the prick doesn’t send me into a completely unhinged, blind rage.

“I’m not gonna kill him,” I assure Cade. “I’d rather just make his life hell.”

A few moments later, Riley skates around me in a circle, giving me a wide berth before finally saying, “I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing, Riley, other than getting ready to paint the ice with your blood to help the Warhawks get their first of four wins?”

The jackass’s face goes pale, and it’s not just the reflection from the ice.

“There’s nothing going on between you and Elle. There can’t be,” he says. “We just broke up yesterday!”

“Guess she just couldn’t wait to move on with someone who isn’t a selfish asshole in bed.”

“That’s bullshit!” His voice is getting louder the longer we talk, like I’m finally getting to him and not the other wayaround. God, Elle was right. The psychological warfare is even more enjoyable than hitting him. Bruises heal; words burrow deep into the skin and fester for years.

I give Riley a wink and a grin. “Just wait until you see her sign.”

“Her sign? What sign?” he asks. He glances up at the stands as if searching for her. “She’s here? How did she get tickets?”

“I hooked her up.” Actually, Jim came through for me like I knew he would. Cost me two grand, but it’s totally worth it if I win the championship trophy and get a contract extension.

“Fucking hell, Lawrence. You sure are going to a lot of trouble to try to make everyonethinkyou’re hooking up.”

“How else would she know without a shadow of a doubt that my dick is bigger than yours if we didn’t hook up at least once?”

I look to the seats I paid for and there she is, white sign held above her head, the gold, red and black glitter filling the big perfect letters glistening under the lights.

THE RESULTS ARE IN: Preston’s stick is bigger than Christian’s!

Instead of the word “stick” there’s a long black hockey stick drawn in the space. It’s a thing of beauty, especially since I know how fast she made it. I want it hanging in my bedroom so I can go to sleep with a smile on my face every night.

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