Page 55 of Off-Ice Misconduct
“Texting in class to get my attention, princess?”
I chuckle. “Was all I could think of that wouldn’t get me in too much trouble, but I needed to talk to you.”
“That was all you could think of? I thought your generation was Lord of the Text.”
My nose wrinkles. “Nah, too impersonal for, uh, for what I have to ask you.”
He does that thing I like, where he uses his knuckle to nudge my chin and level my eyes with his. I mean, his eyes are way up there, but also … did I look away again? Jeeeeeez. He makes me so damn shy.
“Hit me.”
“Well, ah, so there’s a game tonight, you see.”
“A hockey game?” he says as if he didn’t already know.
“Yes, a hockey game. First game of the season. It’s an exhibition game, but it’s huge because it’s against our rival team, North Point. We have a … gathering of sorts afterward.”
“Are you asking permission to go to a party, McKinnon?”
“Pssssht, party. It’s hardly a party. It’s basically a … a board meeting. Yeah. Because we’re work colleagues, um, essentially. Well, not now, but most of us will be in the future.”
Luke’s chest shakes, barely able to contain his laughter.
“Hey!”
“Sorry, princess. I swear I’m not laughing at you, but what have I done to you? You’ve gone from badass hockey god to adorable brat. I almost don’t know what to do with you.”
My brows furrow in a glare that’s real. “Can I go or not?”
“Never mind, there you are.” He presses my nose and shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. Ask me how you know I want to be asked.”
Fuck. I can’t breathe. Why is that so hot it steals my breath? There’s a drumbeat against my skin, a throbbing in my cock, and a burn so hot I’m sure I’ll incinerate any second. Because, yeah, I know what he wants. It’s embarrassing as hell, but so, so delicious somehow. Luke has done something to me. I don’t know what either, but I’m willing to die of embarrassment to find out.
“Do I have your permission to go to the party, Daddy?” My ears will be the first to go. They feel like they’ve been dipped in acid.
“Oh, so it is a party, hmm?”
“Luke.”
“Okay, I’ll stop teasing, for now. But I’m pretty damn hesitant, considering how I found you the last time.”
“I won’t do that again. Besides, that was because of … of Dad,” I squeak out. I run a hand through my hair. How do I explain it without going too deep?
“Are you ready to talk about that?
I can’t say it’s nothing, not when I got wasted in the bleachers over it, but I don’t know where to begin. “Mom’s … a hockeyangel now, and we don’t see eye to eye on our grief, I guess? He’d like me to move on, I wish he’d taken a fucking pause.”
I may never learn how to break this news to people. I’ve tried so many different ways. I don’t want the frown to come, or the pity because “I’m so young without a mom”. It’s best just to get it over with.
The pity never comes, just a frown that’s not the frown I expected either. It’s a judgy frown.
“All your entitled behavior makes sense now.”
“Luke!”
His growly laugh rumbles from his chest, and he combs fingers through my mess of hockey hair.
“Would you rather I felt sorry for you?”
