Page 297 of Playing the Pucking Game
“Rett’s pissed, huh?” he muses.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“He’ll get used to it. I remember the first time my sister went out on a date. I wanted to flatten the guy just for looking at her.”
I can’t help but laugh. Hayden Monroe might be a D man, but he’s not like the others. He’s certainly not like Rett. He’s not as violent or hot-headed. He’s gentler, more thoughtful. A real golden retriever, and he only gets sweeter when he talks about his sister. He may have only told me a little about her, but every time he even mentions her name, he lights up.
“What?” he asks with a frown.
“You’re cute.”
“You’d better not let Linc hear you say that.”
“Too late, asshole,” a deep voice growls from behind me.
Shaking my head, I look back over my shoulder.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I told you, I’m fine. Just needed to catch my breath. My groin is tight as fuck, though. Could do with a bit of work before the third period.”
Hayden snorts a laugh.
I glance around the room. “It looks like Jarad is just finishing up,” I point out.
“Fuck that. I want you or nothing. Now, are you going to let me go back out there like this or what?’
“I don’t think you should be going out there, full stop, but what do I know?”
Linc stands there while I finish up with Monroe, and the second my table is free, he’s on it.
“You’re a pain in my ass, Lincoln Storm,” I mutter as I get to work.
“Maybe so, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
No, apparently, I wouldn’t.
Thankfully,the final period is less dramatic than the first two, but there is still plenty of action. Much to the Vipers’ dismay, both Westly and Petrov score, but it’s not enough, and we take the W three to two.
Linc plays his shifts, but he’s nowhere near as fast as he was at the beginning of the game. He might like to pretend that he’s okay after taking those hits, but I can see the truth. He’s struggling.
As our players lap up the praise from the fans filling the stadium, Linc breaks away from the group with one destination in mind.
Me.
My heart jumps into my throat as he closes the distance between us. His eye is swollen and purple, but he’s still hot as hell.
“What are you doing?” I ask, panicked as he stops just before stepping off the ice and gestures for me to come closer.
“What I should have done a long time ago. Made sure the world knows that you’re mine.”
“Linc, no—you can’t.” But despite my protests, he grabs me the second I’m in reaching distance and crashes his lips to mine in front of the entire arena.
Instantly, the tension drains from my body. The only thing I can think about is him.
Us.
It’s not until he pulls back that the cheers and hollers around us finally filter through my ears.
