Page 57 of Forbidden Puck
But what else is there to explain? You tried to do the right thing—you didn't even fuck her! Besides, she's covering for you and now you guys won't get caught. Nothing to worry about. The end.
But if all that was true, then why did I still feel so rotten?
Lance elbowed my side. “You alright, man?” he asked.
“Huh? Yeah, why?”
“You're all quiet and moody today. Never seen you like this.” He elbowed my side. “You didn't gofallingfor that girl last night, did you?”
If he had any idea the girl he was talking about was his little sister—
“What? No way,” I panted.
“Good. Because the Brawlers can't have you going all soft on us.” He leered at me. “You sure you didn't fall for her? Sounds like she was a real wild one. Maybe that's what you've been looking for all this time.”
“I don't wanna talk about it, Lance,” I groaned.
“Okay. Whatever, man.”
Lance was right. Iwasquiet and moody. The rest of the way to the arena, I didn't say a word. I felt so damn conflicted about everything.
Ella's taste still lingered on my tongue. Every so often, I'd get a whiff of her musk, and memories from last night flooded my mind. Me, between her thighs, holding her legs apart. Her dress hastily bunched up around her waist. The way her eyes fluttered, how she bit her lip, the expressions on her face, God, herscreams!…
Everything about her drove me wild. Just thinking about last night made me hard. She took off her dress, climbed into my bed, and—somehow,somehow,I managed to do the right thing and turn that beautiful girl down.
And now she hated my guts.
***
I was a disaster in our morning skate. I flubbed pucks left and right. I whiffed on passes. I turned one-timers thatshould'vebeen goals into duds that sailed ten feet wide. I lost an edge and took a spill to the ice more than once.
I might as well have been Ryan Ryder from four years ago—the player who couldn't hold a steady roster spot in the NHL, who didn't have the confidence that he belonged on NHL ice.
“The hell's wrong with you today?” Shea barked at me.
I shook my head. “Dunno.”
Lance glided by and announced with a shit-eating grin, “Radar had a lady friend last night.”
“Oh, another pair of panties for the collection, huh.” Shea wasn't amused. He blasted a heavy slap-shot at the goalie and turned to me. “If your social life is starting to become a problem on the ice, it's time to grow the hell up and knock that shit off, Radar.”
Bitterly, I swallowed the captain's sage advice with a reluctant nod. “Thanks, Shea.”
This can't be over soon enough.
***
After practice, I sat at my stall like a zombie while Lance recounted Ella's version of last night to all the boys in the dressing room.
“…yep, she literally said, the girl screamed like a thousand wolves being burned alive. … I know! I know! … Hell, she'll hang out with us after the game tonight, I'm sure. You can ask her yourself…”
“It's not true,” I grumbled at last. “None of it is true.”
“What?” Lance chuckled. “You're going to just deny it?”
“Yes. It's not true.”
“What about it isn't true, then?”
