Page 222 of Playing the Pucking Game
Her use of my surname gives me pause. It seems like a long time since we only spoke to each other using them. In reality, it’s only been a few weeks, but so much has happened. So much has changed.
“Okay,” I concede, because I can see her beginning to freak out. “But this isn’t over, Donnelly. Whatever is going on here, we’re going to talk about it.”
She exhales heavily and rolls her eyes.
My brows shoot up and my fingers curl. The image of her bent over my knee with her bare ass in the air fills my head.
“Fucking hell,” I groan to myself as my cock jerks in excitement.
“We’re done here. There is nothing to talk about,” she insists before turning her back on me and walking away.
I stare after her, watching her ass and hips sway in her leggings, feeling like I just got punched in the face.
What happened? And where is my pretty girl from last night?
I leave with my tail between my legs and head back to the dressing room, where the guys are still goofing around, high on our win.
Fletch takes one look at me and sobers instantly.
“Storm, what’s?—”
I grab his forearm and drag him away from the others.
“How much do you know about Dillion Mitchell?”
He blinks, taking a moment to register my question.
“Not much, considering how long he’s been with the organization. Why?”
“None of the guys want him as their trainer. Is it just because Parker is better, or is there more?”
“I mean, he can be an opinionated asshole when he wants to be. He mostly keeps it locked down, but I’ve overheard some things.”
“Like what?”
Fletch scratches his chin. “Er…well, you remember when Lars Henrikson came out as gay?” Fletch asks, referring to a player who was traded to the Wildcats when I was a rookie.
“Yeah.”
“Mitchell wasn’t impressed.”
“So he’s homophobic?” I ask.
“Yeah, amongst other things. Why? What’s going on?”
“I think…I think he’s giving Parker a hard time.”
His lips part as if he’s going to ask why, and then it hits him. “Because she’s a woman. Motherfucker.”
“I need him gone,” I state.
“We can’t just?—"
“We can, with the right evidence. I want to know anything that anyone overhears. The second we have something concrete, we’re taking it to Marsh,” I state—our GM. “And as much as we can, I don’t want her alone with him.”
“Storm, we can’t exactly…” His words trail off as my glare gets harder. “I’ll speak to the guys. If he’s fucking about, we’ll find out and do what we have to do. In the meantime, you really should convince Parker to put in a complaint.”
“She’s barely talking to me.”
