Page 53 of Revenge Puck

“Elle, didn’t you mention he was standing at attention?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have your answer! Don’t go to the dark place, convincing yourself his stoppage has anything to do with you personally. He wants you, but he has a championship game on the line and knows that you’re still vulnerable from a recent breakup with his nemesis.”

“When you say it like that…”

“It all makes perfect sense, right?”

“Yes, thank you for talking me off the insecurity ledge.”

“That’s what besties are for,” Audrey says as she leans down to wrap me in a hug. When she pulls away, she stares at me seriously. “Now, on to the most important question — do we have tickets to tonight’s game?”

Smiling, I tell her, “I think so. Preston said he would try to get us tickets because he wanted me to come.”

Grinning like the cat that ate the canary, Audrey nods and says, “Yes, he certainly did.”

I roll my eyes at her innuendo. “You know I meant the game!”

“I didn’t. At least tell me if it was good?”

Huffing out a laugh, I tell her the truth, “I came so fast, I momentarily forgot how to speak.”

“Atta girl! Don’t let all your crazy assumptions ruin your buzz.”

“Easier said than done.”

16

Preston

Even hours later, I’m still distracted by my morning with Elle.

A growing part of me regrets stopping. A part that’s been aching for her for hours, unable to forget how sexy Elle was in her lacy panties and bra. The sweet taste of her neck. Her cries when I found out how hot and slick she was.

I walk into the locker room in a damn daze. The shout of one of my teammates has me finally coming up for air.

“Dude! Where the hell did your beard go?” Saul asks and the entire locker room goes silent.

“On the floor of the salon,” I say as I drop my bag on the floor and plop my ass onto the bench.

“Why, man? What were you thinking?” Vincent asks softly.

“I wasn’t thinking. I let the woman cutting my hair decide what to do with the beard. She left the roots so…”

“So, we’re going to fucking lose now!” our goalie exclaims.

“Hot damn! If Pres kills Vinnie, I’ll finally get to start,” Spencer says with a chuckle, causing Vincent to flip him the finger.

Our goalie isn’t cowed, though. He, and some of the other guys, look…distraught.

“Oh, get the fuck over it,” I tell them. “Not shaving during the playoffs is just a bunch of superstitious bullshit and you all know it. Grow a pair and let it go. The amount of fur on your face tonight isn’t what’s going to make or break us. It’s how we fucking play.”

“That makes sense,” Saul mutters. “I should really wash my lucky socks.”

“Yes, you definitely should,” I tell him. “We’ve got this, gentlemen. There’s no amount of superstition that’s going to stop us from kissing the championship trophy this year.”

“Still, there’s no denying that you don’t look as intimidating without most of your face hidden behind blackness,” Nick remarks when he comes over for a close look.

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