Page 47 of Bagging the Blueliner
Sure, keep telling yourself that.
The lights were dimmed, and the spotlight was all on Hannah.
Usually, I kept my head down during the anthem—as a show of respect and to get my head in the game. Those were the final few moments before we went to war on the ice.
Tonight, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her as she belted out the song that most of the country knew by heart. Clenchingmy teeth, I struggled to tamp down the erection that threatened the moment I saw her walk out wearing my jersey. It didn’t help that her mouth wrapped around the notes of the song the same way it had wrapped around my cock.
Hannah always wore a player jersey while singing the anthem during home games. It was on a rotation—or so I’d heard—but what were the odds that it just so happened to be my turn tonight? When only two nights ago, her pussy had strangled my dick as she screamed my name, climaxing violently in my arms.
I couldn’t stop wondering if she’d washed it. Or was the scent of sex still lingering in the fibers of the fabric?
It didn’t seem likely that it was a coincidence.
After the way we left things, I didn’t think she would want to see me again. What if I was wrong?
Did it matter? We were doomed from the start. How could we have a future together?
If we took things further, we could never go public. That was no way to live, sneaking around so her dad—my coach—never found out.
Was the connection I felt strong enough to consider hiding in the shadows?
Maybe we could make it work long enough for me to finish playing. Coach couldn’t do anything to me once I retired.
Hannah loved her family. I knew she would pick them over me if forced to choose.
Would Coach go that far? Wouldn’t he want his youngest daughter to be happy?
I was delusional. We had slept together once—okay, twice—and I was looking ahead to an ending when we’d barely begun.
The crowd’s deafening cheers brought me back to the present. The lights turned back on, and my feet moved automatically. I had a game to play—not just play, but win.
My focus should be on what was left of my career, but Hannah was still on my mind as the puck dropped at center ice and the game began.
How was I supposed to get Hannah out of my head when she was everywhere?
Chapter 13
Cal
The last road tripbefore the short Christmas break was underway. The first stop was Houston, and Benji nearly fainted in shock when I declined his offer to go out.
With Jaxon firmly attached, Benji and I had become each other’s wingmen on the road. But right now, the thought of another woman turned my stomach.
It was bad enough that I spent the four-hour flight down staring at the back of Hannah’s head on the plane, willing her with my mind to turn around. I wasn’t asking for much. Just one look to gauge where her head was at.
Did she think about our night together?
Did she regret the way we left things?
If she asked me, the answer to both of those questions would be a resounding yes.
Maybe it was better this way. It would gut me if Hannah told me she was unaffected by what we’d shared.
I was venturing into uncharted waters. Women usually came to me, and once I had them, they were quickly forgotten. I didn’t sit there and wish for an encore while the object of my affection acted like nothing had happened.
It wasn’t as if I could ask my friends for advice. No one on the team could know what Hannah and I had done.
There was only one person I knew I could call and get an honest opinion.
