Page 72 of Pucking Knox
"Is that really what you want?" I ask.
"It is, and I need to know if that’s what you want."
I pull away, deep in thought. My vagina is throbbing as I walk past him. "I still need time."
He nods. "I should go."
I agree.
He reaches for the window and before he leaves, he says, "Kennedy."
I’m already looking at him.
"Time is ticking."
When he disappears, I lay in my bed and stir.
Forever?
Why am I hesitating?
The tables have turned, it seems, and I have to settle it.
The fear of being hurt again is massive…because do people really change? My father tells me that once a person shows their spots, they rarely change. Sometimes it’s temporary, but never ever misread the signs. People show you who they truly are under pressure.
As for Knox, he’s shown me exactly who he is.
I’m not sure he knows whatforevermeans.
Chapter 28
Kennedy's perfume lingers on my practice jersey even though she's maintaining her "appropriate distance" rule. The scent hits me as I suit up for morning skate – vanilla and flowers that reminds me of how she pressed against me in the equipment room last night, all proper words and improper touches.
"Eyes glazing over again, Thompson?" Harvey chirps as he passes my stall. "Thinking about how glad you are you cockblocked me that night?"
I laugh. Everything about Harvey is light. I have to admit that he’s a good guy, and I know why she would pick him out of the crowd. Though, I’m far better looking.
"Sorry about that," I say.
Harvey waves it off. "I’m used to the team swooping in and stealing my girls. I guess I’m the good luck charm."
I squeeze his shoulder. "She’s out there, man."
My phone lights up from my locker.
Kennedy: Have a good practice, Mr. Thompson. Do make my family proud.
I grin at her formal tone, typing back.
Knox: Yes, Miss Walters. Anything for the campaign.
Kennedy: Behave.
Knox: Never.
The locker room buzzes with nervous energy. Everyone's seen the news about Mike Hanson – top scorer from Michigan, just dropped by the Penguins. Someone's getting cut to make room, and the tension is palpable.
"Thompson!" Coach Barrett's voice cuts through my Kennedy-induced haze. "Need a word."
