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Think Penelope! With your brain, for God's sake! Not with your clit.
A small smirk emerges in the right corner of his lips. He caught me staring, and there’s no denying it, but I will if I have to. I’ll deny it to my last breath. I’ll never give him the satisfaction of thinking I’m like any of the girls who fall for his stupid good looks and inked-up brawny body.
Not this girl.
Not today… not ever.
“I thought you were already done for the day. But if I’m taking up your shower time, then you're welcome to join me,” he says, his eyes hooded slightly and his lips wet and glistening from the shower water.
His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, and I just about forget where I am and what my name is.
Something deep inside me screams out for self-preservation just soon enough that I turn instantly, grip my duffel bag shoulder strap, and dart back out of the locker room. The sound of my ballet flats slapping against the locker room's wood flooring.
My shaking legs carry me as quickly as possible away from the man who has no business, making my girly parts throb and my nipples twinge as they harden under the gaze of his lustful eyes.
The second I’m free of the locker room doors, and I’m sure he hasn’t followed me, I slam my back against the wall of the hallway to regain my composure and process how I could suddenly crave a man I hate so much.
What just happened in there?
What did I just see?
And… does Slade Matthews have a nipple ring?
Chapter Nine
Slade
It’s the night of my first home game.
Walking into the locker room, everyone seems ready to get out on the ice tonight.
Everything hinges now on us winning the next three games before we’re officially in the playoffs and have a clear path to the Stanley Cup.
The pressure is high, but then… so is the energy. These are the nights you live for as a professional athlete. These are games that truly mean something, games where the winner takes all.
If we lose this, we’re out for the season, and since I just got here, there’s no damn way I’m about to let that happen. I came here to prove that I can compete at this level and failing means that I won’t have any reason to come back here and see Penelope every day either.
Everything is on the table, and I’m playing to win.
I walk up to my locker and start getting dressed. Most players are pulling on their gear or are already set and ready to go. Some players perform superstitious gameday rituals, while others seem calm and relaxed.
It’s not long before Coach Bex conducts a short and sweet pregame hype, and then we’re all headed down the player tunnel.
The stadium lights are off as red, blue, and green strobe lights bounce around the stadium seating, hockey rink, and ceiling.
The large Megatron screen starts to play a PR video designed for the team, and we all watch below at the end of the player tunnel, waiting for our queue from the announcer.
As the newest recruit on the team, and this being my first home game, the players moved around to let me up to the front. My name will be announced first, and I’ll open the night for the Hawkeyes as tradition dictates.
The video stops playing, and that’s when I hear the announcer's deep rumbling voice.
“And here are your Hawkeyes!” he announces.
The crowd erupts in wild cheering.
It’s a packed house tonight, and everyone is waiting anxiously to see if the Hawkeyes will make it into the playoffs.
“And welcome to the ice… the newest member of the Hawkeyes… your center… number 67… Slade Matthews!” he says, drawing out my name. It’s the first time I’ve been announced at a Hawkeyes home game, and I can’t help but wonder if my father is watching.
