Page 27 of Power Play

“I found him like this already, I swear,” he tells my dad, holding his hands up.

My dad laughs.

“Oh, I believe it. This boy ain’t one to miss out on a good time, even if he’s the only one havin’ it,” my dad says, scooping Harper up. I almost laugh when I see Tyson…in his big, blue Spokane Storm, Levi Buck jersey. He was a diehard Drifters fan until Levi got drafted. Then his loyalty quickly changed.

“Are you wearing Drifters colors?” Tyson asks me, disgust in his eyes. I laugh.

“Well, I wasn’t going to embarrass Levi by walking around with his name on my shirt all night,” I say. Tyson looks lovingly at Levi and playfully kisses his cheek.

“Can’t say the same,” he says, batting his eyelashes. Then he kisses Harper, spins on his heels, and lifts his beer into the air. “Onward, peeps. I have some very hot hockey groupies to—”

“Tyson,” my father warns, Harper staring after him, wide-eyed. I stand up on my tiptoes to kiss her goodnight.

“I love you, sweetie girl,” I say. “Be good for Pop, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy,” she tells me. “I love you.”

As I’m turning to leave, I feel my dad nudge me.

“Hey,” he says. I turn back to him. “Havefuntonight, Lo. She’s safe. You’ll be safe. Enjoy yourself.”

I let out a sigh, smile, and nod.

“Thanks, Dad,” I say. I turn toward the door, and to my surprise, Levi is standing there, waiting for me.

“Take care of her,” I hear my dad say.

“You know I will,” Levi calls back as he pulls the front door closed. We walk toward his rental SUV, and he walks me around to the passenger side. He opens the door for me, and I feel that tingle between my legs again.

“I get shotgun?” I ask, remembering that my idiot brother is with us.

Levi makes a face and laughs.

“Hell yeah. You think I’m sitting next tothatall the way to D.C.?” he says, pointing in the backseat to my brother, taking selfies with his beer and smiling. He waits for me to climb in, but just before he closes the door, he lets his hand drag along the side of my thigh, sending zaps of electricity through my body. Our eyes meet for a second, and then he disappears around to the other side of the car.

I feel the sexual energy pooling between my legs again, and I suck in a long, sharp breath before he climbs in.

This is going to be a long night.

Like I said before, I never really watched hockey until Levi went to the NHL. Even at my brother’s high school games, I was never paying much attention to the game. I was in elementary school, after all. It wasn’t until middle school, when the boys went to college, and then a few years later, when Levi got drafted, that I really took notice of the players—I mean, the game.

I was definitely, one hundred percent, very invested in the game.

Not the hockey butts.

Definitely not the hockey butts.

When we get to the arena, Levi pulls into a side alley and dials someone. A few moments later, a man in a suit comes up to the car, takes the keys from Levi, and then takes the car somewhere to park it. Another man in a red staff shirt greets us, shaking hands with Levi like he is trying to tear it off. He leads us through the side entrance of the arena, uses a keycard to scan us through a few big doors and down some long hallways, then finally into a fancy suite decked out to the nines. Food in trays everywhere, a fully staffed bar, private bathrooms, and a killer view of the ice.

“This is the players' and coaches' family lounge, Mr. Buck,” the staff-shirt guy says. “Make yourselves comfortable. Ray will be up any minute, and Coach Dumond said to let you know he’d be up to say hi after the game.”

Levi thanks him and ushers us inside.

“So we’re camping with the enemy tonight?” Tyson whispers as we walk through the door, and Levi laughs.

“They’re notallthe enemy. Aside from fucking Leray, some of the best guys in the league are on this team,” Levi says. Tyson scoffs.

“FTD,” he says, throwing two bullhorns in the air and walking toward the buffet line. I turn to Levi.

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