Page 40 of Playing the Pucking Game
My hand rises, and like a fucking moron, I give her a little wave.
What the fuck is wrong with you, Storm?
Brooke notices where Parker’s attention has wavered to, and she looks over her shoulder.
“You’ve been a part of the Vipers’ family for a long time, haven’t you, Parker?”
“I have. My dad played for them for a short time back in the day. He moved us here, and it’s where we stayed. My brother and I grew up supporting our home team, and while he might have moved on—” A round of boos sound out, making Parker laugh. “I’m still here supporting my boys every chance I get.”
“You’re friends with Casey Watson, our coach’s daughter, and Kodie River’s new girl, is that right?” Brooke asks, shooting Kodie a look. He does everything he can to avoid her questionsor demands for content, so she’ll take any mention of him as a win.
“Yes, Casey and I grew up together. We also used to play on the same team.”
“Ice hockey?”
“Of course. It runs through our blood. She was always better than me, though.”
“Ah, yes, of course. And while we don’t like talking about our rivals, it would be rude not to point out that you’re Everett Donnelly’s little sister.”
“Please, don’t remind me,” Parker says with a laugh. “Rett and his best friend Lincoln Storm,” she says, her eyes locking with mine again, “spent their formative years tormenting me.”
Brooke, following Parker’s attention, turns toward me.
“And we have the man in question right here. So, you and our new athletic trainer have history, and it seems, sorry if I’ve misjudged, that she might have some revenge to take.”
I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Nah, it’s all water under the bridge now. Isn’t that right, Little P?”
Parker glowers at me. “I guess that’s between me, you, and the table, Storm.”
“Okay, cut,” Brooke shouts before barking a laugh. “That was gold. Fans are going to eat this up. Brother’s best friend. Childhood rival. It’s got “going viral” written all over it.”
I shake my head, walking deeper into the room. After all, I’m not just here to stalk Parker; I do actually need to put some work in.
“Okay, I’d really love to get some shots of you at work. Do we have any volunteers to?—”
“I will,” Marilyn pipes up, jumping to his feet faster than any grown-ass man should be able to move after a grueling training session.
In a flash, he’s kicked his sneakers off and he’s on his front on the bed.
“My hamstring is acting up. It could really use some TLC.”
“Motherfucker.”
All eyes turn on me as I apparently say that out loud.
“Problem?” Marilyn asks, grinning up at me like a fucking fool.
“Of course not. You know what it’s like when Dillion really gets to your muscles?” I ask.
“Yeah...” Marilyn agrees hesitantly.
“Well, you’ve felt nothing yet.”
Honestly, I have no idea if that’s true or not. I’ve offered up my body for Parker to practice on for years, but she’s always refused. Equally, she wouldn’t have gotten this job if she didn’t know what she was doing—and sadly, that means pain.
Marilyn shoots a look at Parker, who rubs her palms together, warming them up.
