Page 4 of Puck Lust

“Sure seemed like there was an ‘I’ in team tonight,” the guy continues, fanning the fire he just lit. “Are you going to blame tonight’s loss on the team when it was your decision that cost the Raptors the game?”

Blood rushes between my ears, my fingers wrapping tighter around my stick.

“You’ll have your chance to talk to the coaches at the press conference later,” I say through clenched teeth, pushing through the crowd of reporters.

They keep pelting me with questions, undaunted by my lack of answers.

Jesus Christ, what a bunch of vultures.

I sweep a hand through my hair, round a corner, and collapse against a cement wall. A shadow approaches from the darkened corridor and the hairs on the back of my neck spring to attention.

One more question about the fucking game or my ex’s engagement and someone is getting this stick up their ass.

I whip around, my heart clogging my throat when Van Kleef stops in front of me.

Memories of that night suddenly pierce my mind like the sharpest knives.

With a thrumming pulse, I stare at him, his clear blue eyes exposing everything I’ve been running from for all of these years.

My darkest secret, the one that can destroy everything.

The pain, the hurt, the humiliation.

And the fucking kiss that never should have happened.

“What the hell do you want?” I say, my voice tight. Even after the years have passed, I can still feel his lips on mine, the charge of electricity that lit up my insides, and the anger that followed when I realized what a fucking colossal error in judgment I made.

I was vulnerable. Stupid. Spiraling because of what I’d been forced to do without a choice.

I didn’t think. I just acted.

By the time I realized what I’d done, it was too late.

Carter was my friend, probably the closest one I’d ever had.

I’d never let anyone in before. Nobody saw behind my mask, except for him. And for the first time in my life, I wanted to open up, to share the piece of myself I’d hidden away for solong. So I took a risk by kissing him, and he fucking crushed me.

People were narrow minded in my backassed hometown of Bakersfield, California, so I always kept my sexuality quiet. Hockey camp brought guys from all around the state, but none of them were out, either.

So I stayed deep in the closet until I made it to the AHL, when I felt like I was less under a microscope.

But that night, I let Carter see the real me because I needed him to, and he shut me down. Stung like a bitch. I was pissed as hell for taking such a big risk in opening myself up to him, so I lashed out, like a total asshole. Said things I can never take back, things that were unforgivable.

I left junior hockey camp that night, left everything behind, including our friendship.

We haven’t spoken since.

Van Kleef’s lips press together, his gaze sparking the kind of hunger that I’ve closed myself off to since Sam and I ended things. A strand of dark hair falls over one of his eyes and he sweeps it back from his face before taking a step toward me, the smell of his sweat choking me with a twisted mixture of desire and disdain.

But the way my skin prickles under his heated stare makes it damn clear which one is winning out.

Because even after years have passed, my feelings for him never fizzled.

He slaps one of his hands against the wall, blocking any escape I may have. My heart thrashes, sparks crackling in the air strong enough to make both of us spontaneously combust.

And then…

“You always were a fucking asshole,” he hisses. “An arrogant, self-centered prick. But you can’t just cut and run again.”Van Kleef leans in close, jaw twitching tight. “There’s no escape for you this time.”

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