Page 129 of Revenge Puck

Game nights are predictable.

Routine.

I skate a slow lap around the rink, shoulders loose, stick tapping absently against the ice. Stretch. Pivot. Push. The motion is automatic, muscle memory taking over while my brain goes through my text messages on a slow loop because I made the mistake of checking my phone before coming onto the ice.

You didn’t scare me. I was picturing what you’d feel like in my mouth.

Christ almighty.

Since when does Juliette talk like that?

Not sure how I felt about it, since it was out of character, but her attempt at sexting is adorable. She’s making an effort and that will have to be rewarded…

The idea has my mouth watering as I skate through a turn toward center ice, a sadistic smile moving my lips into a grin.

Declan.

I angle straight for him.

“You enjoy your little coffee date this morning?” I ask, skating backward past him, watching the expressions on his face change from surprised to resigned.

“Sure did!” he fires back easily.

Fucker.

He brought this on himself, and he’s going to play the victim here. “You got a problem with me speaking to mysister?”

I skate in a circle around him. “I have a problem with you interrogating her.”

“She’smyfucking sister.” His eyes flash. “You don’t get to lecture me about intimidation.”

“No?” I skate closer. “Because from where I’m standing, you filled her head with bullshit all because you’re fucking scared I’m going to tell her what a shitty human you are.”

His jaw tightens. “You don’t know what I said.”

“I know she walked away feeling like shit and that you made her cry, and I’ve got a huge fucking problem with you playing big brother like you’ve got clean hands.”

For half a second, something flickers in his expression.

Gone just as fast.

“She deserves the truth,” he says indignantly.

I laugh once, sharp and humorless as I chase the puck with my stick, still skating near Declan. “Whose truth? Yours or mine?”

His nostrils flare. “Careful.”

“No.” I get close, leaning in. “Yoube careful.”

His shoulders square defensively. His gloves curl tighter around his stick.

“You know the whole thing with Bailey was a mistake.”

And yet he’s still probably sleeping with her…

Not so guilty that he doesn’t want to get laid.

“Hey, what the fuck is going on over here?” Storm skates in, cutting between us with a sharp spray of ice. “What is this, a lover’s quarrel?”