Page 38 of Scarred

“See, I told you,” Connor whispers in my ear. “Hockey men are H-O-T,” he spells out.

“I’m starting to believe you,” I laugh.

The crowd gets more amped up, and I crane my neck to see who is next to come out.

When Cayden Blade is called, the roar gets deafening as the goalie hits the ice.

Cayden? No, it can’t be.

But the shift in energy in the room says otherwise. I would recognize it anywhere. My heart rate accelerates, and a sudden warmth floods my body as number forty does a lap around the rink. His brunette hair is pushed back from his face, secured by his mask on top of his head. The strong jawline and fierce look of dominance in those vivid green eyes have haunted my dreams for the past two weeks.

“I know him too,” I whisper, clutching Connor’s hand.

“Who,” he asks, following my line of sight. “The goalie?”

“That’s him. The one I was telling you about.” I swallow thickly.

After a few glasses of wine, I told Connor about meeting Cayden and all about our yoga sessions, needing someone to confide in about what I was feeling.

“Cayden from yoga is Cayden Blade? The Cayden Blade? The top goalie in the NHL? That Cayden Blade?” His eyes are wide in shock before he quickly starts laughing. “Oh, fuck this is good. How the hell could you not know who he was? He’s the most talked-about player in the NHL. He’s basically the face of the entire league.”

“You know, I don’t go online much,” I say, in a hushed tone. “And I don’t follow hockey, so how the hell would I know who he was?” I squeak as the arena noise dies down for the national anthem.

I barely hear the person singing as I stare at Cayden on center ice, shuffling his feet with the rest of the line-up. They all look fierce and completely in the zone as their faces take on a menacing look.

Once the last note is played, his skates immediately take off.

“Oh, God, he’s coming this way,” I whisper, squeezing Connor’s hand harder. He skates over to his net and stops in front of it.

His body stills, and the pull between us that I’ve always felt gets stronger as he scans the crowd before landing on me. The air in my lungs vanishes as I struggle to take my next breath. His eyes flash briefly with surprise at seeing me here before they slowly graze down my body.

I’m suddenly wishing I had on a longer dress because I might as well be naked with how he’s looking at me. I feel bare and exposed and…

Wanted.

His eyes meet mine again, and heat flames my cheeks, causing an inferno in those greens as they darken. He suddenly notices Connor next to me, and the hunger just seconds ago vanishes as he narrows his eyes, his lips forming in a tight line. Gripping his stick with his glove, he flips his helmet down and turns away without so much as a smile.

And just like that, I’m left burning again for something I shouldn’t want.

THIRTEEN

CAYDEN

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What the fuck is she doing here?

I felt her the minute I got in front of my net. It took me all of two seconds to hone in on her in the stands just a few feet away from my goddamn net.

My blades rough up the ice in front of me, a little more aggressively than usual, as I try to work out my frustration.

It’s not the fact that she’s here that has me so worked up. It’s how I felt seeing her in the stands at one of my games that has me all fucked up. It’s how much I liked it.

When I saw her with her hair cascading over her shoulders and in that black dress with those sexy as sin boots, I wanted to scale the glass and claim her right there.

One word kept repeating in my head, putting me in a complete mind fuck.

Mine.