Page 14 of Puck Me Twice Over

“Is she a puck bunny from the crowd?”

Damnit, that was a little too close. I knocked my stick against Shannon’s, but he anticipated the move and glided sideways smoothly with me locked against him in a one-on-one puck battle.

“She ain’t no fucking random,” I grunted, intent on claiming the puck. It was more about winning the mini game than avoiding the laps Coach seemed set on giving me, though I didn’t really want those either. The words slipped out.

“Ah, so she’s not just a girl you picked up from the parking lot then,” Shannon mused.

His barb hit way too close. I jammed my elbow beneath his glove, not caring if the move was legal or not. Shannon swore as I lifted the puck away from him, stuck my ass out so he couldn't work his way back in and slammed the puck into the air.

The damn thing sailed right past Valentine and pinged off the side of the goalpost. I groaned, then stopped as the little black disc dropped safely into the back of the net.

“Lucky fucker.” Valentine shook his head and held up a finger at Coach. “One.”

I didn’t need to turn around and face Coach to know he wouldn't be happy with an off the pipe shot. I might as well go for four goals right now and be done with it.

“Let’s go again.”

I nodded, buzzed by the chase and turned back to Shannon just as Hux skated up, one hand rubbing his shoulder. “She’s my ex. High school sweetheart fairytale level shit. Except she dumped me. No fucking idea why.” But I’ll find out. Soon. I nodded to Hux. “Sorry about the shoulder. You boys ready to do it all over again?”

The shock written across Shannon’s face was worth telling the secret. Almost.

But the goals—four in the end—didn’t save any of us from laps at the end of training.

If I’d thought I was sore after the game, my thighs fucking screamed post training today. The locker room shower wasn’t anywhere close to hot enough to ease the muscle ache that refused to quit. I was starting to wish I'd taken Hux up on his offer of an ice bath, but I was keen to check items off my mental list, get back to the condo and talk to Flick, make sure she was okay on her own. It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to go, after all.

All that aside, I left her with a little task today, and I wanted to check in on that before it got too late.

Not that she said as much; I’d semi checked in with her the night before, and she’d confirmed it this morning. When Garry-boy left her in the rain last night, he’d also kicked her out of the house.

Her home.

So my place was her home for the near future until she sorted herself out with something else, or not. And part of me was scared that she wouldn’t be where I asked her to stay when I got back.

“Vandevere,” Coach called my name in that same old-school voice that told me I was in shit before I tucked my towel around my waist.

Definitely should have gone for the ice bath.

“Yeah, Coach?” I plastered a smile that hated me across my face and dripped my way across the tiled floor to him. “I got you your goals.”

“You nailed every single one.” Coach stared at me long enough that I swore his eye twitched. “Get your ass dressed and out there. She’s waiting for you.”

I stared a moment longer than had ever been considered socially acceptable. “She?” I repeated.

Coach growled at me. “Unless she is the he who we weren’t talking about last night. But then, the dude doesn't appear to be your style.”

“I have a style?” I grabbed a Chimeras branded jersey—I thought it was mine—and yanked it over my head. It swam on me, so it probably wasn’t. “Wait. There's a dude?”

“That’s mine. Take it off.” Valentine stalked forward through the steam.

I held up my hands, glad my towel stayed tucked in so I didn't flash the room, helicopter style. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I turned tail and fled before Valentine could do more than mutter curses. He could catch up with me later. The ground was hard underfoot and probably unhygienic as well. Coach muttered about impulse urges and hormones as I passed him, then I was out of the locker rooms, tearing barefoot and half-dressed along the stadium’s tunnels.

The parking lot stood in full sun, though nothing was scheduled to be on at the arena at this time of day. The few vehicles were scattered about, mostly belonging to the players, as well as the office workers for the Chimeras’ home club, but it didn't take me more than a second to find Felicity.

She stood beside my car, wearing one of my button down shirts over her jeans from last night. The sleeves were rolled loose to her elbows, and she still wasn't wearing a bra. The material cascaded over her in a way I knew I’d never be able to see that shirt the same way ever again. I jogged over to her, ignoring the pinpricks of pain that bit into the soles of my feet.

“Flick? What are you doing here? Did you walk?” It was eight blocks from my place to the stadium. Not a huge distance, but far enough that when I’d had a flat tire one morning and found that I hadn’t maintained the spare as well as I should, those eight blocks also earned me punishment laps.