Page 7 of Revenge Puck

But I stand my ground when the brute freezes with his big black duffle bag hanging on his shoulder, his squinty eyes staring at me like I’m a crazy person. And I am, but he doesn’t even know that yet. He wouldn’t hit a woman, would he? Nah. I have a feeling the dude who got his nose broken did something to deserve it.

That’s why I bravely pull my phone from my purse. The Warhawks security guard flips out.

“Are you insane? Don’t take his photo!” he hisses at me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lawrence,” he calls out over his shoulder while using his body to block me from his view through the fence. “I’m trying to get rid of her. I’ll call Bobcats’ security out here to do their damn jobs!”

“What does she want?” his deep, growly caveman voice demands, as if I’m not capable of answering the question for myself.

The guard humphs as if it’s obvious, making me grit my teeth and roll my eyes at him. “I’m not a puck bunny! I just wanta selfie, or an ussie since I would like for you to be in the photo with me too, of course.”

“No.”

“No? You won’t take pity on a recently dumped, pathetic woman?”

“No. You’re wearing Bobcats’ colors,” he murmurs, narrowed eyes sweeping over my top.

I glance down and realize that the cropped blue, white, and yellow striped tee was probably not the best choice of attire when asking a Warhawk player for a favor.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. “What if I took the shirt off?”

Grinning from ear to ear now, the guard says, “Told you she’s a puck bunny.”

“I’m not a puck bunny!” I shout. “The only hockey player I’ve ever been with is Christian Riley.”

I didn’t know the woolly mammoth could get scarier, but he looks so furious I’m surprised thunder doesn’t roll through the sky with a clap of lightning.

“I changed my mind,” the big guy says. “The answer is hell no to your selfie request.”

“Ah, so you don’t like Christian either? Well, join the club, buddy,” I tell him. “He loathes you too, by the way. Honestly, I think he’s terrified of you, scared of facing you in the playoffs because he actually thinks you may slice his throat with the blade of your skate.”

“Thanks for the idea,” Preston replies before he’s apparently had enough of me wasting his time and starts walking away toward the arena.

“I hope you inflict some pain on him!” I yell to his back.

And okay, that sounded bad. But this is hockey, so bumps and bruises are all part of the game.

Preston stops again and turns toward me in his fancy dress shoes that are so long I could probably use them as paddleboards. “Why is that?” he asks.

“Just your typical bad breakup rage,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Anyway, if you enjoy hurting him, then you should know that psychological warfare can sometimes be just as effective as causing someone physical pain.”

Okay, maybe I’m getting way ahead of myself. I doubt if Christian would even see my pitiful post trying to look like I’m moving on, much less waste a second being jealous. But a girl can dream. It’s the only card I’ve got up my sleeve to play against him.

Before Preston walks inside, I quickly explain my plan. “All I want is a photo with you to put on Insta to try to piss Christian off. I know you don’t do press or photos, but I thought you might make an exception this time since you’re rivals or whatever. It probably seems stupid to you, but it may mess with Christian’s head if he thinks I’m hanging out with the enemy. Not that you’re my enemy. I don’t know you. I’m sure you’re a very nice man who just scowls a lot…”

My words trail off when he actually starts walking back in my direction instead of running the other way toward the arena. A mobile mountain of fury.

“You were Riley’s flavor of the month? Or was it less than a week?” the grump asks.

Ah, so he is familiar with Christian’s playboy ways. I really should’ve known he was too good to be true.

“We broke things off recently, like yesterday. Although, apparently, we weren’t ever really together.”

“Good. He’s an asshole.”

“No kidding.”

“And you want to use me to hurt him back?”

That sounds so bad when he says it. “I don’t want to use you. I just want one photo to try to hurt him back for using me for months. I think you’re my only chance to make that happen. He won’t care about any other guy.”

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