Page 60 of Fall For Me
“Petrov.”
“Miles! Werchky! Petrov!” Dad calls out.
The rookie’s head snaps in Dad’s direction like he’s not sure he heard right, then he vaults over the boards. I lean forward, watching intently as the puck drops. Minutes blur together in a rush of speed and shifting momentum with Petrov more than proving his capabilities. He flies down the wing twice, forcing Washington’s defense to scramble, while Cal and Werchky keep the puck moving, waiting for an opening. A quick pass through the slot and . . . it’s in.
Yes!
My feet leave the ground as Dad hugs me, pinning my arms to my sides. When he sets me back down and turns to his team, I sneak out of the box and begin to head down the tunnel.
“Rebel!”
I glance over my shoulder and find Sean at the tunnel entrance, backlit by the arena lights.
“Yeah?”
“Wait for me?”
“I don’t know, Mac. I’ve got a lot of hell to raise tonight, and it’s already getting late.”
Sauntering closer, he smirks. “Is that right? Don’t you think you raised enough hell down there when you took over coaching for your dad?”
“I haven’t reached my quota yet.”
My heart hammers against my ribcage as he grows closer. Whydoes he continue to have this effect on me? I’m trying to be strong, but every time I’m around him, my resolve slips more and more, especially after I saw how he was with Jade last week. My ovaries went haywire, and since then, I’ve wanted to climb him like a fucking tree. It also doesn’t help that he’s sexy as hell, standing there in his goalie gear with rivulets of sweat dripping down his temples.
“Wait for me,” he says again, but this time it’s not a request; it’s an order.
His eyes flick down to my mouth, and I realize I’m biting down on my bottom lip. Dammit. I’ve always been a weak whore for the dominating side of Sean. Players filter down the tunnel towards the locker room, but I’m zoned in on him. A smile spreads across his face like he knows I won’t say no.
“Alright, fine. I’ll wait. But only because I need an accomplice and an alibi. You gotta hurry though, because I’m on a really tight schedule.”
His entire face lights up, and his eyes crinkle a little on the sides as he laughs. “Alright, Rebel.”
Sean raises a brow and stares at the food truck in front of us. “Street tacos?”
“And beer.” I hold up the six pack. “Also, these aren’t just any street tacos; they’re the best tacos you’ll ever eat in your life.”
“Doubt that.”
“Hannah!” Rosa smiles, sticking her head out of the order window. “How are you, mija?”
“Hey. I’m good.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a couple of tickets as I approach the window. “I got these for you and Eduardo. He’s always talking about how he wants to go to a game. They’re for next Sunday night so you won’t have to close the truck.”
“You didn’t have to do this. Thank you so much.” She turns to her husband, speaking to him in Spanish while holding up the tickets.
Eduardo smiles through the window and raises his spatula. “Thank you, Hannah.”
“You’re welcome, Eduardo.” My eyes flick back over to Rosa. “I hope you guys have a good time.”
“I'm sure we will. What can I get for you?” she asks, pressing a pen to her ticket book. “It’s on the house.”
“No. Rosa, I didn’t do that to get free food.” I’m met with a scowl, and I already know by her expression, she’s not going to let me pay. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to. “Can I get six tacos, extra onions and cilantro . . . and uh . . . two cups of menudo? Oh, and extra hot salsa.”
I glance over my shoulder at Sean. His blanched expression makes me laugh.
“You’re such a wuss.” I turn back to Rosa and hike a thumb toward Sean. “He wants mild sauce.”
She looks at him and laughs, tilting her head to the side “¿No te gusta chile? No seas niña.”
