Page 225 of Playing the Pucking Game
Little P: Wouldn’t want you to miss an opportunity.
Suddenly, everything starts making a little more sense.
57
PARKER
“What’s wrong?” Brooke asks the second I drop into the seat next to her just a few minutes before we’re due to take off for Texas.
“Nothing,” I mutter, not really in the mood to talk.
The team appears at the entrance to the plane, and one by one they walk down the aisle to their seats.
I keep myself busy, pulling my iPad from my bag along with my headphones.
I don’t want to shut Brooke out, but also, I just need quiet. Some time to think, if that’s even possible on a plane full of hockey players and staff.
As the guys continue moving, my skin begins to prickle with awareness.
I know why, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing I’m aware of his presence.
My grip on my iPad tightens, and my shoulders tense.
I don’t want to talk to him right now.
I don’t even want to think about him, but that seems to be a challenge too much, because every time my mind drifts, I see him kneeling at the bottom of my bed with his dick in his handand nothing but unfiltered pleasure on his face. If it isn’t that image, it’s one from earlier: hard on the trainer’s table.
My mouth waters, and I curse myself for being so weak.
I’m stronger than this.
I’m not the kind of woman who falls under the likes of Lincoln Storm’s spell.
My heart rate picks up as he gets closer, and by the time he stops beside me, it’s practically beating out of my chest.
“Parker?” His deep, raspy voice rocks through me like a shockwave, but I don’t look up.
Despite not earning my attention, he continues anyway.
“Parker, I didn’t— I wouldn’t—I…I didn’t even know it was there. Not that it would have made a difference if I had.”
The silence that follows his words is probably the loudest of my life.
“Just go, Storm. You’re holding everyone up.”
Beside me, Brooke gasps at my cold dismissal. But it needs to happen.
I can’t do this right now, and we certainly can’t do this here.
He hesitates, but after a couple of seconds, he must realize that I’m right, and he continues shuffling down the aisle.
Others follow him, but I don’t dare look up. I don’t need to know who heard that.
I startle when a giant hand reaches out and squeezes my shoulder.
My heart launches into my throat, but when I look up, it’s into Kodie’s understanding eyes.
He gives me the briefest smile and doesn’t say a word as he continues toward the back of the plane. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Mitchell glancing over, probably trying to figure out his next move and how he can make it hurt.
