Page 89 of Ice Wolf
“What do you mean?” I knew exactly what he meant. Lily had insisted on coming with me to the informal practice, mentioning that watching me in action could provide more pertinent information to attempt to improve my sullied image.
She’d said it in words and phrases that had boggled my mind. She’d done so on purpose, trying to trip me up with her psychoanalytical mumbo-jumbo because she remained pissed at me.
Even worse, I’d seen hurt in her eyes. She’d tried to hide it the best she could, but I’d caught a brief indication between bites of my ham and cheese omelet. She’d barely eaten anything while doing her best not to strangle my mother.
Dad needed to talk with my mom about her exuberance for the wedding. Lily wouldn’t be able to tolerate going to the barbeque without having a meltdown. Hell, I might have the meltdown.
“Just look at her, man. She has flamethrowers for eyes.” He laughed and stole the puck, immediately taking a shot. We were cycling some shots, passing them back and forth to improve our techniques.
I shifted and turned, skating backward as I glanced in her direction. She’d been in the same position, glaring at me and I could swear she hadn’t blinked a single time. Not for two solid hours. She had to be freezing, but she’d barely moved.
“She’s pissed at me.”
“For you being you?” As the puck slammed into the net, he threw up his hands, grinning as if he’d just won the big game.
I slowed to a stop, planting my hand on my hip. “We don’t get along.”
“She’s your fiancée. Plus, she’s freaking gorgeous. What’s your issue?”
“She thinks I’m a jerk.” Why did I suddenly have a streak running through me the shade of spring grass after a rainstorm? No matter the amount of pretending, she didn’t belong to me. Lily had made that perfectly clear. To add insult to injury, she wore a braid. One beautiful braid that swept back and forth across her shoulders as she walked. One incredible thick plait that I was meant to wrap my hand around, using as a leash as I fucked her long and hard from behind.
My cock twitched in appreciation of the visual floating through my twisted mind. If I dared mention the idea to the woman sitting nearly cross-eyed, fuming because of my mere existence, she’d skip killing me in my sleep. She’d do so with an icepick at the playoffs.
“Youarea jerk,” Eric said as he shifted the puck back and forth while skating around me in a wide arc.
What was this, pick on player of the year day? I muttered under my breath. I’d always been extremely focused. Some would say narrow minded, but hockey meant the world to me. I’d never thought being fixated on the sport and my job was a bad thing. I was the center and had to be aware of every aspect of the game, working with the wingers so ensure we won.
I’d been damn good at scoring, my success noteworthy.
Then the feisty blonde had entered my life like a wrecking ball. Now I was questioning everything including my talent both in and out of bed.
“I admit I was shocked to hear you two were engaged. You were just with that girl a few nights ago. What was her name? Margie? Mary? I can’t keep up with your love life.”
I pivoted on my skates, stealing the puck away from Eric and hitting it as hard as I could. It went sailing into the air, well over the top of the net and halfway into the stands.
There wasn’t a player on the ice who didn’t stop and stare. Including Lily. She’d even stood and I sensed without looking directly at her that she was furious I’d lost control.
Eric scratched his head and laughed. “Man. You should be a baseball player. I guess practice is over.”
“We can get another puck. I was just pissed off.”
“I’d hate to see when you really get angry.” He skated toward the side and off the ice.
Groaning, I ripped off my helmet, daring to glance in her direction before heading to the locker rooms. By that point, other team members were either headed in to get in some practice or off to shower and head home. I moved toward Eric’s locker, leaning against a row of them.
“I wasn’t trying to be a jerk with her.” I wasn’t. The words had flowed out of my big, fat mouth before I’d been able to stop them. I hadn’t been intentionally trying to hurt her. The truth was my sarcastic comments were a regular defense. Not that I would admit my foibles to anyone.
I was a rockstar on the ice. That’s what everyone in the news had called me just that morning.
Right under the headline that the playboy bachelor was off the market.
That along with my mother planning a fake wedding had pulled me onto an irrational edge.
“What’s the real deal with her?” he asked.
Shrugging, I smacked my head against the metal. “She’s a public relations expert hired to make me look better. I just met her a few days ago.”
Eric slowly turned his head, both eyebrows lifted. “Seriously?”
