Page 3 of Pucking Bad Boys

He doesn’t hesitate. “Tab, please. And do you mind if I have that back?” He points to the ID I’m still holding in my hands.

“Totally. You can have my V-card.” My eyes widen as another inappropriate wave of heat washes over me.

Did I just say that out loud? Someone kill me now. “Not my card,your ID card,” I rush out before he can respond to my initial offer.

It wasn’t a real offer, I swear.

He takes his fake ID, and I turn around, busying myself with making his mojito. The virgin one. I muddle the mint leaves withsugar like they personally offended me, and I swear I can feel his gaze burning holes in my back.

I’ve always blamed Tucker for my difficulties in finding a boyfriend in town. I know he loves me and wants to protect me, but like everything Tucker does, he goes way overboard. Everyone knows my older brother in Star Cove and anyone who sets foot on campus—but the issue dates back to middle school—knows that if they even look at me for too long, they’ll have to deal with my six foot five, two hundred and twenty-five pound hockey player brother. So not only his teammates wouldn’t even look at me for more than five seconds. The entire athletic department knew I was off-limits. And not satisfied with that, Tucker made sure every male at school knew that if they even thought about me in a remotely sexual way, they would be in for a world of pain.

My only hope not to die a virgin is either to find a sexy tourist for a hot summer fling or to leave the county. Maybe even the state and go where no one knows that I’m Tucker Prescott’s little sister.

But tourists usually don’t stick around long enough to get out of the totally casual sex zone, and I can’t leave town until after graduation.

Even then, I’ll have to get a job that will make a move financially sustainable. It’s either that, or I’ll have to die a virgin.

I squeeze a couple of limes with the same violence I used with the mint and then add soda water and ice to the glass.

Hopefully enough time has passed that Beavis has forgotten that I just offered him my V-card on a silver platter.

Becker

Did I say something wrong?

The cute bartender isn’t looking at me anymore. First she turned to make me that mocktail, but even as she turned around to push the glass toward me, her blue eyes were firmly focused on the mahogany of the bar.

She’s pretty in that way you can’t forget. Petite and graceful, with blonde hair that frames the perfect oval of her face and blue eyes I could stare into for hours. But what makes her even more stunning is the way she moves. I observed her as she made my mocktail, and it was like watching a ballerina; every move fluid and elegant, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

I need to get her name and make sure I can see her again. I mean, I guess I can come back here, but I would like to see her in a different setting, where I don’t have to share her attention with dozens of thirsty customers.

Case in point, someone flags her down at the opposite end of the bar.

She smiles, taking the man’s order, and I think about my next move as I sip on the surprisingly delicious mocktail.

It doesn’t help that she saw that stupid ID. Why did I even try to use it? She called me Beavis twice. There’s no way she’ll ever consider going out with me now that she associates me with a loser with no game at all. Or I’ll have to work extra hard for it.

As I keep watching her serve a few more people, I decide that it’s worth trying. I’m gonna wait for the right time. If it doesn’t happen tonight, there’s no reason why I can’t come back. Knowing where she works means that I can see her again.

The bar gets busier, and when my favorite bartender comes to see if I want another drink; she doesn’t have time to talk to me.

It’s fine, I can wait. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be tonight. I’m new in town and I don’t know anyone aside from one of my Bridgeport teammates who transferred here too. Or more truthfully, I should say that I don’t know anyone I want to see just yet.

Fuck knows once I report to the athletic department for my medical and officially join the Cove Knights, I’ll see my brother every day.

The other person I know in town is Genevieve, and things are… complicated. She texted me to welcome me to Star Cove, and I left her message on “read.” I have no idea how to respond.

I’ve known Gen my entire life. First as my dad’s best friend’s daughter and then as my brother’s girlfriend. I’ve heard from Dad that she and Mack are no longer together; it’s been over six months now.

Dad didn’t elaborate on why the long-term relationship between Gen and Mack ended, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. God knows the last thing I need is to make things with my older brother even more difficult than they already are.

So after I dropped my stuff in the off-campus apartment Dad rented for me, I decided to venture out and explore my new environment.

Coming to Star Cove wasn’t my first choice, but it was the most sensible choice after my college went bankrupt.

I would have rather gone anywhere else in the country, or even to Canada or Europe. But Dad was right that after a terriblefirst year in Bridgeport, where my team’s days were numbered, I needed to play somewhere where I would get noticed. Whether I want to enter the draft or try to get signed by an NHL team, I need a spotlight that Bridgeport no longer provided after the school went into financial difficulties.

The situation was totally different when I chose Bridgeport over Star Cove, but no one could have predicted what happened, and now here I am. This is my shot at getting noticed, and it’ll be harder now that I’ll be in my older brother’s shadow.