Page 134 of Revenge Puck

I turn to face her, twisting my body in the chair. “Blaire. He was a teenager when he stood you up for that dance. What has Declan done recently that would make you still detest him this much?”

“I’m sorry, I know he’s your brother—but once a guy does something shitty to you, you never forget it.”

Down below, Aaron skates a tight half-circle, cutting Declan off from heading toward the bench.

My brows rise. “They’re teammates. Aren’t they supposed to try and get along?”

“Teammates can hate each other.” Blaire sips from her beer. “Haven’t you ever worked with someone you wanted to shove into traffic?”

Uh, no—can’t say that I have.

The buzzer cuts off whatever my best friend is about to say next, ending warm ups. Players begin skating off toward their benches.

Aaron, Garrett, and Declan linger, tension rife.

Then Aaron lifts his head, gaze going straight into the stands.

There are hundreds of people here, but Garrett Storm spots me. My brother’s gaze follows his line of sight.

Then Aaron notices I’m here.

It’s a ridiculous domino effect.

I watch as Aaron lifts his hand to give me a slow, deliberate wave that somehow feelsfar moreintimate than it should from fifty yards away.

My brother skates a few feet in front of him and waves, too. Then Garrett.

I laugh at the ridiculous nature of the moment: three grown men in full hockey gear waving and fighting for my attention. But as an excited shiver runs down my spine, a niggling sensation causes me to turn my head and glance down our row.

A blonde woman. Big, glossy hair that’s probably filled with extensions. Full glam. Fitted Ice Wolves T-shirt with Declan’s number on the sleeve.

She’s waving, too—of course she is—because everyone wants the team’s attention. The section is full of hopefuls and die-hards, many of whom would kill to go home with any of the players.

Dozens of fans sitting around us are holding handmade signs:

QUEEN SEEKS BISHOP

#10 WILL YOU MARRY ME?!

That particular fan is wearing a white veil over her knit hat, and her team jersey is bedazzled, ready for a walk down the aisle…

My smile falters at the blonde.

I want to say she looks familiar? But that would make no sense. I have never seen this woman in my life.

So why…

“Oh!” a woman behind us shouts. “They’re waving up here!”

Every head within a ten-seat radius swivels.

“Who are they waving at?”

“Is that someone’s wife?”

Blaire pops up out of her seat like she’s been training for this exact moment her entire life and throws both arms in the air as if they’re all here to see her. “Thank you! Thanks for coming!”

I pull her hand down.