Page 146 of Playing the Pucking Game
“Is that why you think all hockey players can’t be trusted? Is that why you turn and run at the sight of anything serious? Because you’re over them and what they did?”
“What the fuck, Linc?” she demands, surging to her feet again and standing toe to toe with me. “Who the fuck do you think you are to criticize me and the way I live my life? You’ve never been serious about anyone, ever. You go through women faster than I go through athletic tape.”
“Yes, I have,” I correct.
“What?” she asks, a cute frown forming between her brows as she tries to remember what she just said.
I move closer again, letting her sweet scent fill my nose.
It’s not enough. It’s never e-fucking-nough.
“You said that I’ve never been serious about anyone in my entire life. But you’re wrong. I have.”
She rolls her eyes and lets out a patronizing laugh. “A hockey puck doesn’t count.”
“No, butyoudo.”
Her frown returns, only deeper this time.
“What? No. That’s?—”
I step closer still, her body heat burning down my front and my fingers twitching at my sides to pull her to me, to prove to her that she’s wrong.
“I meant what I said that night, Parker. I told you that?—”
“No,” she argues before stepping back. But I reach out before she gets too far and tug her back, this time making sure that she’s pressed up against me.
Ducking low, I let my eyes drop to her lips before rising again.
“I meant every single word I said to you that night.”
Tears pool in her eyes, making me feel like an asshole for bringing this up when things have been so good between us. But fuck it, she needs to know.
I allowed her to walk away after that night without proving to her that I was serious.
I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.
Hockey will come and go. My playing career will eventually come to an end, and I’ll be forced to decide whether I still want to dedicate my life to the sport.
But Parker…she’ll always be there.
She’s my endgame. Always has been, always will be.
38
PARKER
Six years ago…
“Are you sure you’re okay if we go?” Casey asks, her date behind her, holding her hand with a vice grip as if he’s worried she’s going to bail on him before the night is out.
“Of course. Seth’s probably just gone to the bathroom or something,” I say with butterflies fluttering wildly in my chest.
Tonight is the night.
I know it’s cliché to lose your virginity on prom night, but it seemed like a good idea when we started talking about it.
Both of us have been ready for a while but agreed that we wanted it to be special.
