Page 48 of Pucking Grey

After the game, Ace is lecturing Matt as we stand in the bus line. He’s pissed off that Matt let the puck get away.

“If Grey wasn’t over here parading my fucking ex –” Matt starts.

And I intervene. “It’s not my fault you fucked it up with her.”

Matt turns to me and says, “Don’t get fucking started.”

“Grey!” a guys voice calls out from the distance. I don’t know who the fuck it is, but I’m annoyed by the sound of it.

When I turn my head, Ryan Wilder is storming towards me.

“Just fucking great,” I whisper under my breath as we lock eyes. The amount of trouble this girl has brought into this single moment is stupid. She fucking owes me.

I glare at him while he keeps his dead eyes on me. “We need to talk.”

Matt looks like he’s not done with me. I’ll fucking finish whatever this is with him later. I follow Ryan as he nods his head in a direction away from everyone.

His back is facing me when he comes to a stop and sighs. Ryan and I have a brief history. We played hockey together for three years, and he went pro. He’s killing it for the Seven Devils. The guy has the best flexibility I’ve ever seen. He’s a goalie first but I know he could easily play center if he wanted to. Other than hockey, he thinks I stole a girl from him. It’s not my fault she was testing out the whole fucking team, and I just so happened to be on the list right after him. He never liked me after that.

I don’t speak because I already know what’s coming. His little sister is living with me and if Matt thinks I’m parading her around like some kind of trophy, her brother must think she’s my puck bunny. Little does he know that she begged me for that title.

Ryan wipes his face with frustration. Jesus, why the fuck is he so mad. She should just tell him the truth instead of putting me through this big brother bullshit.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” Ryan asks, meeting my eyes with pure rage as he turns around. I know this side of Ryan. Playing together for three years turned him into my hockey brother, and anyone who knows me knows that hockey comes first. I’m not best friends with all the guys, but hell, during my first couple of years I tried hard to be likable. These days I couldn’t care less. But for Ryan? I’d say for the second year we played together, we were close. He understood my shitty attitude, accepted it, and knew that I slept around with whoever the fuck came my way. And now he’s thinking his sister is on my list. I get it.

“I heard she moved in with you?” Ryan snaps, giving me eyes that speak a silentfuck you.

Why couldn’t Maddie just tell her brother the truth? I thought they were close.

Because I’m not saying a fucking word, Ryan thinks he has the upper hand. Like I’m scared of him. I could seriously take him if he wants to go there.

Ryan steps closer to me, not skipping a beat. “That’s my baby sister, and I’d rather rot in hell than letyounear her.”

I let out a breath, which he takes as laughing. He flinches at the sound.

“You think this is funny, Grey? I want her out of your fucking house.”

I sigh. “Everything with Madison is fine.”

“Oh? So, you’re telling me you’re serious about her?”

“I don’t know, man.”

He grabs my shirt and now anger fills my bones. Being aggressively grabbed like this is like lighting my candle. The thought of Madison blows me out. Otherwise, I would fuck him up. I give him the benefit of the doubt. He thinks I’m screwing his little sister and this shirt-grabbing shit is his reaction. I’d be pissed off too if a guy like myself was banging my little sister.

“Let me go,” I demand, adjusting my shirt.

He brings me closer and says, “If I find out that you’re treating her like you treat all these other women, your hockey career is over.”

My gut twists at that threat. My eyes must flare because he releases my shirt with a satisfied nod. “If you want to fuck with my little sister, I’ll make your life a living hell, and I’ll start with hockey. Do we have an understanding?” He pokes my shoulder as I glare at him. If he wasn’t Madison’s protective older brother, I would have him flat on his ass right now with my fist meeting his face. Even better, when I play for the NHL Saints next year, I’ll be sliding the pucks in right beneath his feet.Fuck.

“Do you fucking understand?” he says impatiently.

I snarl. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Before he walks away, I say, “You’re making enemies with the wrong guy.”

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