Page 40 of Body Checking
His head goes straight into my stomach and he wraps me up, like a linebacker rushing the quarterback. I stumbleback but hit the wall before falling to the ground. He throws a punch and connects with my cheek and I decide he’s had enough.
“Maren was nothing more than a lousy lay. I thought she’d be a little more adventurous since no one is banging down her door,” he spits out with a snarl.
Those words are the last straw and I stop holding back. “Maybe that’s because you’re a fucking pencil dick and wouldn’t know good pussy if it sat on your face.”
I push him off of me and punch him once, breaking his nose, twice, splitting his lip, and three, dropping his ass to the floor. He curls into a ball and groans.
Before I deliver my final blow, I tell him, “Speak about me or Maren to anyone, and you better pack your fucking bags and get the hell out of this city as fast as you can. Because if I find you, I’ll be happy to live my life in stripes if need be.”
I bring my foot back and kick it straight into his already sore stomach. He whines in agony and I step over him. I spot a tray of cookies and water sitting on the kitchen counter and grab one of each, along with a napkin, on my way out. I swipe the small bit of blood from my lip and take a bite of the cookie. My face sours at the stale cookies.
“These cookies are as shitty and dry as you.” I throw it on the floor next to him and take my water to go.
I slam the door behind me and make sure the hood is pulled completely over my head to conceal my face, and slide into the driver’s seat of Joaquín’s Porsche and let my foot lay on the gas, taking me all the way back to the arena with a smile on my face.
THE BUZZER sounds and the Havoc men cheer, sticks up in the air and circle around each other. Cade smiles and crosses his arms over his chest, and from here I can see a small cut on his lip that I swear wasn’t there this morning.
He looks over his shoulder at me and smiles with a wink. Butterflies swoop and swirl in my stomach and I feel my cheeks flush.
A pointy elbow nudges my side and I turn to see Sasha smiling at me. “Maren’s in looove,” she sings and pokes at me.
I bat her hands away and shove her shoulder. “Oh hush. I am not.”
“You told Walker you were going to marry Cade one day and if you two keep falling head over heels for each other day after day, I can definitely see it going that way.”
“Whatever,” I continue to clap and cheer until the team leaves the ice, then Sasha and I make our way up the steps and towards the VIP entrance. “Did you see that cut thatwas on Cade’s lip? It looked like a fresh cut, don’t you think?”
She looks away quickly and says, “I really didn’t notice. Maybe he cut his lip trimming his beard or something.”
The straw she drinks from gurgles as she empties her cup. I narrow my eyes at her strange behavior, but I don’t have time to think too much about it. We reach the entrance doors and are let back to wait for the team.
We chat with some of the ladies we have become friendly with. Jolie Fairchild, Joaquín Santos’ girlfriend and Whirlwind dancer, enters with a red head woman and I can't help but stare at her beauty.
She smiles and greets a few people, then locks eyes with me and starts walking towards me.
“Sasha,” I whisper through my clenched teeth. “Jolie Fairchild is walking over here.” I try to grab her attention but she’s lost in conversation with one of the other player’s girlfriend.
“Hey,” Jolie says, stopping right in front of me. “You’re Maren, right?”
“Umhmm. Yep. That’s me.” I fumble over my words and end up sounding like a starstruck teenager.
It’s not that Jolie is this super famous person, but she and Joaquín Santos are the newitcouple ofsports. She’s on the cover of the Whirlwind Dancers calendar, and she’s beyond gorgeous. In my book, she’s pretty much a star.
“I’ve been wanting to meet you, but I always seem to miss you after the games.”
“Oh?” I say in response because I can’t imagine why she’d want to meet little ole me.
“Yes. Ever since Cade called Joaquín early that morning after he saw you on the Jumbotron, and then after today, I’ve wanted to meet you because I feel like we could totally be friends.”
“Not best friends. She’s mine. You can be first runner-up,” Sasha cuts in, but only for a moment before returning to her conversation.
“I’m sorry. I apologize for her. She was raised by lovely people with good morals and rules and somehow they passed right over her.” Jolie laughs and squeezes my arm.
“I totally get that. I have one of those, too. Her name is Brooke.”
We chat for another minute until something clicks into place that I really didn’t catch until now.
“Did you say something about what happened today?” I ask and her face turns ghostly white.
