Page 218 of Playing the Pucking Game
Needing a moment to get myself together, I walk toward the counter where I abandoned my half-drunk coffee, but before I pick it up, something catches my eye.
On the side of the cup, there’s writing.
Picking it up, I inspect it closer.
“The fuck,” I balk, discovering a name and phone number staring back at me.
Clearly, Matilda has no shame.
In a rush, I pull my cell from my pocket, snap a photo, and send it on to Linc.
The irritation I felt this morning returns tenfold, and I walk out of the trainers’ room with fire licking through my veins.
There is no fucking way I’m letting any man ruin this chance for me, whether it be Mitchell trying to take me down, or Linc who reminds me too much of the girl I used to be.
I’m not her anymore.
I’m stronger.
I’m…fuck.
I’m still desperately in love with him.
Much like every game day,I’m discovering, the hours pass by in a flash.
I might have Linc on my table for a few minutes after morning skate, but at no point are we alone, and at no point does he bring up last night or say anything untoward.
I’m grateful, but at the same time, standing beside him, let alone touching him, hurts.
I focus on my job, laughing and joking with the guys as if nothing is wrong. But deep down, all I can think about is if Linc messaged Matilda.
We’ve got a couple of hours after the game tonight before we need to be at the airport. Will he make the most of the opportunity and hook up with her?
Jealousy twists up my insides just thinking about him being close to another woman.
I hate it.
I shouldn’t care.
I’ve managed to push his antics with women over the years to the back of my mind. Why can’t I do it now?
As we tape up the last few players, readying for the game tonight, I can feel the excitement and anticipation already in the air.
I glance at the time. The stands will already be filling up with eager fans, and honestly, I don’t blame them.
Hockey runs through my blood just as much as everyone else’s here. I love it, and the fact I now get to work here means everything to me. Too much to throw it all away by allowing Linc to drag me into whatever game he’s playing. I should have forgotten him years ago. Hell, I did. I put all of it behind me. I just can’t make it stay there, apparently.
The crowd is already buzzing with energy as I walk toward the rink, where our guys are out on their final warm-up session.
I scan the sea of our white and green road jerseys until I find him.
Christ.
He’s on his hands and knees, thrusting his hips at the ice.
That is the literal last thing I need to be thinking about right now.
Images of last night as he towered over me, stroking his cock fill my head.
