Page 35 of Revenge Puck

Nodding, she says, “I’ll let you know when I get finished up.”

“Can’t wait.”

After I walk out of Elle’s salon, it’s like the world is too quiet, too empty without her next to me, her fingers no longer running through my hair.

I’m obviously developing stalker tendencies since I have her Instagram up, probably before I make it half a block to my car.

Only this time, I also look forThe Beauty Boutique’s page. It’s got a decent following already, and there my face is, front and center next to the picture from yesterday. What I don’t like is that Elle cropped herself out of both. We’re gonna have words about that at dinner.

Before I can send her a message asking for a copy of the original pictures, I recognize a few other men scattered through the client photos underneath mine.

Of course, Riley’s smug ass face appears several times. That one I don’t care for but was at least expecting. It’s the other men, at least half a dozen other Bobcats hockey players, all freshly cut and facial hair shaved or trimmed.

Elle was adamant yesterday that she wasn’t a puck bunny, but these photos tell a different story. She’s been up close and personal with at least…seven.

Before I can stop myself, my feet turn around to stomp right back to the salon. Thankfully, Elle is alone, sweeping up my black hairs that are all over the floor, her friend somewhere in the back.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” She frowns when she looks up and sees me.

“You said you weren’t a puck bunny,” I remark, holding up my phone to show her the photos instead of trying to name them all.

Elle blinks up at me as if waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, she just shakes her head and lowers her gaze to the broom that’s sweeping the floor once again.

“Well?”

“Are you seriously asking me if I slept with all those players? Wow, Preston. Now who sounds like an asshole? I’ll give you a hint—it’s not Christian or those jerks online.”

Damn. Her comment puts me in my place, making me feel about two feet tall.

What the hell is wrong with me? It’s bad enough that she had to deal with all the strangers bad-mouthing her and slut shaming her yesterday. Did I really just come charging back into her salon to basically call her a liar and infer she’s slept with men before she even knew my name?

Yes, yes, I did.

“I’m sorry, Elle. That’s…I’m not sure what I was thinking. I just got irrationally jealous, which is stupid since we just met yesterday…”

“And we’re in a fake relationship,” she adds.

“Fake. Right,” I agree. “And I know there is no excuse for me acting like a possessive dick, but it has been years since I dated a woman. Guess I’m out of practice on what’s appropriate…”

Elle slowly bends down to sweep the hair into a dustpan then dump it into the trash can before facing me again. “Slut shaming isn’t that new of a concept.”

“I wasn’t…that wasn’t…the problem wasn’t that I thought you had been with them as much as it was thinking that they had been with you.”

Frowning even harder, she crosses her arms over her ample chest and huffs, “That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“I guess I just feel sort of protective of you. I know you can take care of yourself. It’s just, if any of them used you then hurt you like Riley did, I would kick their asses.” When Elle wincesat the term “used” I immediately want to take it back, swallow it down my throat. Too late now...

“Preston, I think you should try to figure out how to resolve conflicts without resorting to violence, even if it’s figurative and not literal.”

“I know. You’re right. I should. But growing up, my parents and coaches encouraged me to use my size and strength to be a bully on the ice. That’s what I was good at, not skating, not scoring. Just being scary, hitting people, and hurting them so I could one day go pro.”

“You are good at it, and it pays you millions of dollars a year, so I get it. Maybe you could just try to keep your temper on the ice. No, not just on the ice, but in the games.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said your teammates aren’t fans of you always roughing them up.”

“That only happens in practice.”

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