Page 34 of Playing the Pucking Game
We play injured more often than not. We lie about how much it hurts, do our best to cover the evidence, and we grit our teeth and get on with our fucking jobs.
Parker and the rest of the medical team just have to get used to the fact we’re going to butt heads on the daily.
“It is what it is,” I say with a shrug as I finally lift my cell and place our order. “It’ll be here in twenty. Are you going to come out and eat with me?”
“Will you continue to be a pig-headed asshole?”
“Is the sky blue?”
“Fucking hell. I’ve worked so hard to get this job, and sometimes I can’t help but wonder why. You’re all going to make my life a million times harder, aren’t you?”
“If dealing with us is the worst of it, then I think you’ll cope.”
“What do you mean?”
I shake my head. “I will make sure that every player on our roster respects the fuck out of you, Parker. But there are so many other men in our world that will have opinions you’re not going to like.”
“Do you really think I’m not aware of this?” she says, putting her cell to sleep and throwing the covers off.
Unlike last night, my boxers don’t show beneath the T-shirt. Instead, I’m greeted with nothing but long, bare legs.
My mouth runs dry, and I make the stupid mistake of trying to swallow.
I cough, choking on nothing but air as she throws her legs off the side of the bed and pushes to stand.
She’s only wearing a pair of the panties I chose for her, and I’ll be fucked if I don’t want to know which color she picked. But before I get a chance to find out, the fabric of my T-shirt falls around her thighs.
Combing her long, red hair back with her fingers, she twists it up into a knot on the top of her head with one of the hairbands I got for her earlier.
I want to say those were my ideas, but honestly, Sutton really came into her own during that shopping trip. Between Casey’s list and Sutton’s help, I walked out of Sephora feeling successful. I haven’t been told otherwise, so I’m taking it as a win.
Dragging my eyes from her legs, I pause when I get to her chest.
Holy shit, she’s not wearing a bra.
My teeth grind, and I swear to God, her nipples harden even more under my attention.
“Linc.”
They’ll be so pretty.
“Lincoln?”
Rosy pink against her milky skin.
“Storm?”
My eyes jump to hers. “Huh?”
She shakes her head before shoving past me. “The sooner I get out of here the better,” she mutters as she stalks out of the room, leaving me standing there with nothing but her sweet scent surrounding me.
By the time I join her in the kitchen, she’s got her head in the fridge, searching for something.
“Do you have anything to drink?” she asks without looking back.
“There’s soda and juice in there. Water too.”
“I meant, a real drink.”
