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I don't trust that he won't touch her. Hurt her. Use her. To get to me.

There's always been jealousy from his side. The fact that I'm now in the NHL, and he's never been selected in the entry draft, has to sting.

I want out of the penalty box. Hell, throw me out of the game if that's what it takes for me to check on Amber and make sure that she's okay.

Every second is agonizing hell while I wait to be released. Time has never ticked by so slowly. The penalty box attendant pays me no attention other than focusing on his task and watching the clock.

"Psst," I whisper, trying to get his attention. "Do you have your cell phone handy?"

He glances at me over his shoulder. "Seriously? You type never learn about discipline." He turns with his back to me. It is a long shot, texting Amber to make sure that she is all right.

There's still no sign of her, and the longer I wait, the more dread fills my stomach. Emerson won't let anything happen to Amber, which tells me she went willingly with that dickhead, Atlas.

TWENTY-FIVE

AMBER

Dare I say it?

I actually like hockey.

Well, I enjoy watching the game when Jasper is on the ice. It's not nearly as exciting when he's benched or in the penalty box, which he finds his way into quite often.

The game is interesting, but all I feel is Atlas Storm's presence as he's seated beside me. Sometime early during the first period, the guy sitting beside me gets up, probably to grab another beer, and Atlas steals his seat.

"You know that seat's taken," I say. I shouldn't even give him the time of day, but apparently, I'm ready to commit social suicide, or maybe he's ready to commit social murder, if that's a thing.

I get the distinct impression that he plans on destroying any reputation that I have at NYU because he's a puckhole.

"Your friend?" Emerson asks, glancing briefly at Atlas.

"No," I say, quick to answer.

But Atlas answers with a resounding "Yes," at the same time.

Emerson doesn't take much stock in it. She returns her attention wholeheartedly to the game, which I appreciate. The crowd is also rowdy and cheering on the Island Bruisers. We stand out, the two of us in our gold jerseys cheering from our seats.

"These are shitty seats. You should have taken me up on my offer," Atlas says. His attention is on the ice rink, at least, but I still don't want him seated beside me.

"I don't want anything from you," I say.

I can feel his brooding stare as he shifts in his seat and turns to face me. "Why?" I do everything that I can to ignore him, but he doesn't back down. When I don't answer, he reaches out to put a hand on my arm, and I yank it back.

"Don't touch me," I snap.

"It's not like you have anyone else touching you," Atlas says. "I don't buy your line of bullshit that you're dating a hockey player,Ice Queen."

I suck in a sharp breath and pray that my sister didn't overhear him. The crowd is loud, but Atlas is even louder.

"Who I date is none of your damned business."

"You're a liar," Atlas says and shifts to face the game. "You have zero chance in hell of hitting it with one of those guys out there. You couldn't even pass for a puck bunny."

"Fuck you," I say and jab him with my elbow.

"Oww."

"Go back to your own seat." I keep my focus on the game. Jasper seems distracted when he practically hands the puck over to the Island Bruisers.