Page 29 of Puck Me Secretly

“You’re a complication I can’t afford. You need to forget about what happened between us.”

“How can I? We survived a plane crash together,” my eyes searched his face. “We shared something that night.”

He pushed his hand through his hair in frustration. “You saw those photos of me. I’m not the guy for you. I’ll never be the guy for you.”

“People change.”

“You don’t know me and it’s in your best interest to stay away from me.”

What could I say to that? Max wanted nothing to do with me. My shoulder drooped. I searched his face one last time before I turned to go.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

I didn’t turn around. “Like what?”

But he didn’t respond, so I gathered up my shredded pride and walked out.

That night,I lay in bed, my arms curled around a pillow while I thought about Max. He was so damn hot. Which is why I needed to stay away from him. He was a big, muscular, hockey player. A player in general. Scared of commitment. Bossy. Dominating. Alpha male. And a royal mess off the ice.

He was no Baby Man and if I made a checklist of everything I didn’t want in a relationship, he would check off every single box.

Yet, I liked his surly attitude. I liked how he didn’t seem to give a fuck. I loved the shape of his lips and the way his eyes seemed to always be on my mouth. That he was the ultimate bad boy made me want him even more.

I groaned and buried my face into my bed.

I needed to forget about him.

I needed to keep this professional. I needed to put a stop to this intense attraction that I felt for him.

The only problem? I wasn’t sure how to do that.

CHAPTER 11

Three weeks draggedby without me talking to Max again. My job comprised of shadowing Dad on everything he did and learning everything I could about our players. I sat in meetings with Dad. I met with the media market team who explained their strategy for the year. I didn’t contribute. My sole job was to learn. And learn I did. I listened, made notes, and asked hundreds of questions.

I was developing a greater respect for Dad. He had built his business with talent, business acumen and a lot of guts. Even if this was not something I wanted, it was teaching me what he wanted and what he had done to achieve it. Dad was not afraid of hard work.

The best part of my workday was when we sat together and watched the daily practice. He talked about how the game had changed. And we discussed various players, their strengths and weaknesses.

When Max was on the ice, it was difficult to not give him my undivided attention. Although, my father couldn't fault me if I did, because he was everything we wanted in a player. Max was the fastest player on the team. He had incredible accuracy when he shot and he was a phenomenal team player. You could see how he reactedduring plays, that he could think on his feet. No matter what scenario the coaches ran him through, he excelled.

My dad talked about everyone, but he rarely spoke about Max.

We watched Max make an exceptional shot at the net, during a drill, placing the puck where no one else could. I felt pride for how well he was shooting. Dreaming of other times. Dreaming of when he had looked up at me from between my spread legs with that intense, I’m-going-to-blow-your-mind look. I had delicious daydreams about him. I wanted him to come to my office late at night after everyone had gone home. I would wear a skirt, without panties and he would push that skirt above my hips, spin me around against the wall and then I would hear the zip of his pants come down. I would spread my legs farther and then he would trace his fingers over my…

“How’s it going with 33?” Dad’s question ripped me out of my daydream.

Oh my god.

Mortified, I worked to gather my thoughts.

“According to Katrina, from the media team, he’s attended three media meetings.”

Dad nodded. “Katrina knows her stuff.”

Katrina was stunningly beautiful with dark hair and a tall, model-thin body. The best part about Katrina is that she was a married woman.

“Max requested to change his volunteer duties.”

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