I didn’t. Thank God.
She's not ready for what I'll do to her when I finally get my hands on those perfectly shaped hips and sweet, plump ass.
Eventually, I follow the guys off the ice, the heavy weight in my chest not shifting. Maybe it’s because I’m not used to this... wanting someone this much. It’s messing with my head. And my game.
The locker room’s full of noise. The guys are razzing each other up as always, the crack of towels against bare skin, the clatter of gear as it gets tossed into bags.
I drop onto the wooden bench in front of my locker, sweat still cooling on the back of my neck. My hands flex and release, but the tension that’s been coiling tight in my chest since practice doesn’t let up.
I reach for my phone in my locker, almost like my hands are moving without my brain’s permission.
One new text message.
My chest loosens just a fraction when I see who it’s from.
Emma.
"Hope practice went well!"
I can picture her saying it, probably with that tiny crinkle in her nose she gets when she’s trying to be polite but also knows I’m probably being an asshole to someone on the ice.
My thumb swipes to the next message.
"God, it's busy this morning! And your sweater still smells like you... is that weird to say?"
My lips twitch, and I shake my head. Goddamn adorable.
The next text comes in immediately after:
"Scratch that last text. Please pretend I'm normal."
A laugh rumbles in my chest before I can stop it. I glance around, hoping no one heard.
Ryder's still grinning like an idiot, despite Connor getting him a good crack with the perfect towel snap. He drops onto the bench opposite me.
Blake’s just finished stripping his pads, and he cocks his head, clearly noticing Ryder’s joyful mood. “So what’s with the goofy face, rookie? You finally score a goal in practice without tripping over your own skates?”
Ryder scoffs, but his ears turn pink. “Nah. Just... had a good morning. That’s all.”
Connor smirks. “A good morning, huh? Wouldn’t have anything to do with the vet assistant I saw hanging around before practice, would it?”
Ryder’s whole face lights up, and that’s all the ammo the guys need.
Blake snorts. “No way. Ryder actually managed to talk to Mia? And here I thought you just stared at her like a lovesick puppy whenever she’s around.”
Ryder bristles. “I wasn’t staring. I was—”
Connor cuts him off with a loud bark of laughter. “Right, right. You were just... observing her for research purposes. Making sure she’s qualified to work with puppies and kittens, huh?”
The whole room erupts into chuckles, and Ryder mutters something under his breath, tugging his shirt over his head.
I can’t help myself. A chance to get one back after all the shit he hands out?
“So what? Did you actually ask her out, or did you just stand there until she patted your head and gave you a treat?”
“She was just asking about the shelter fundraiser next week." Ryder bites back, suddenly on the defensive. "Wanted to know if I’d help set up.”
Blake smacks his shoulder as he passes by, heading for the showers. “And did you say yes, or did you just drool on her shoes like agood boy?”