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“You mean the 360 spin?” I said, raising a brow. “I was just showing off.”
“No, not that one. Later in the game. You went all the way around the back of the goal and put the puck into the net from the side. It sort of looked like a lacrosse move.”
“Oh. That’s called a Michigan,” I said stiffly, rubbing my jaw.
It used to be one of my favorite shots, because it looked so fucking slick. But these days, any mention of the name ‘Michigan’ dragged my mind straight back to that dark chapter in my life at Forrester, even if it was spoken about in a totally different context.
Raquel was right, though—it was a cool as fuck play to make if you were quick enough, and it clinched the win for us last night when I went for it.
“Well, it looked awesome. You guys are so fast out there. It’s really impressive,” she said, batting her thick eyelashes. “But you know… there is one thing that totally sucks about watching hockey.”
I raised a brow. “What?”
“It’s soooo cold in the arena. I swear, I almost got hypothermia last night,” she said, rubbing her arms like she was standing out on the ice right now. “I’m actually still freezing. It’s like the cold leached right into my bones.”
I knew her type—puck bunny who wore skimpy clothing to the arena in the hopes of attracting a player with their cleavage or bare legs. They were a constant presence at our games, and no one had ever bothered to tell them that shivering women with blue lips weren’t actually all that hot. No pun intended.
“I guess you’ll have to take a sweater to the next game,” I said, not falling for Raquel’s fake shivering. She didn’t even have goosebumps. She obviously just wanted me to give her my jacket to manufacture some sort of closeness between us.
She abruptly stopped rubbing her arms—I knew she was faking it—and changed tactics. “Do you ever get sore after games?” she asked.
“Yup. I spend half my time groaning like a ninety-five-year-old man,” I said, cracking a half-smile.
“Well, my sister is a massage therapist, so she’s taught me some good techniques,” Raquel said, fluttering her eyelashes again. “I can totally help you with the soreness and stiffness, if you ever need it.”
She enunciated the word ‘stiffness’ a lot more clearly than the other words in that sentence. Holy shit, she was thirsty as fuck.
“Appreciate the offer, but the team has physical therapists,” I said. “One of them is a qualified sports masseur.”
Disappointment wavered in Raquel’s eyes, but she wasn’t deterred yet. She leaned closer and put a hand on my upper arm. “I have to tell you… I’ve never thought you did any of that stuff out in Michigan,” she said in a low voice. “I know some people still speculate about it. But I can tell you didn’t do it. You’re not a bad guy.”
I smirked. “You sure about that?”
“Definitely,” she said. She drew back and gave me a toothy smile. “You’re one of the good ones.”
That remark of hers had finally scored her a point with me. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to take her home tonight after all. Take my mind off all this shit with a good lay.
I took a closer look at her. She was decent-looking. Nice rack, too. Puffy pink lips that would look good wrapped around my cock.
As quickly as the thought popped into my head, I dismissed it. Despite my reputation, I couldn’t bring myself to hook up with a random woman tonight. I wasn’t in the mood. It had nothing to do with the fact that there was another girl on my mind, blotting out everything and everyone else. I was just completely fucking exhausted.
“Thanks. That means a lot,” I said. I lifted my gaze over her shoulder. “Anyway, I think my friend’s calling me, so I better go. Good to meet you.”
“Oh. Right. You too.” She gave me a tight smile and turned away as I pushed off the wall. I strode toward Justin, who was knocking back a shot at a narrow table across the room.
“I see you finally met Raquel,” he said with a grin, slamming the empty shot glass down.
“You know her?”
“Half the team knows her, if you know what I mean. I’m pretty sure Keegan and Daniel spit-roasted her last weekend.” He grinned. “That’s a good team-building exercise, huh? We should let Coach know.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be happy to add it to our drills.”
Justin craned his neck and looked across the room, presumably at Raquel. “I honestly can’t believe you’ve never run into her before,” he said. “Did she try to fuck you?”
“I think she wanted to, yeah.”
“Color me unsurprised.” His brows furrowed. “She kind of looks like Sienna from behind, don’t you think? With her new hair?”
