Page 64 of Risking the Pucking Defense

“Right?” he deadpans. “I thought so too.”

We might have only been training this week, but that doesn’t mean that tensions weren’t running high. We’re all battling it out to be the best we can possibly be to secure our places on the team. And that means that the chirping isn’t reserved for the team we’re battling against. And while it’s all over a game, those who know you best can sometimes cut you the deepest.

Killer’s black eye is courtesy of one of our third-line D-men who was trying to prove his worth to Coach. It probably goes without saying that he’s also sporting a couple of bruises, because Killer wasn’t having any of his bullshit.

Our positions are at risk all the time, but training camp? Yeah, that’s when reality really hits and the tension hits the highest of highs.

Of course, we all want to be first line. Being drafted to the NHL is only a part of the dream. Being announced on that starting lineup for game after game? Yeah, that’s really where it’s at.

But the second line was good to me last year. I got solid ice time and made an impact, helping us all the way to the finals. I won’t be disappointed to be in the same position this year. While we have Killer and Rett as our starting defense pair, it’s pretty much expected. Why the hell would Coach ever replace one of them with me?

“I’ll take two of whatever your best whiskey is,” Killer says the second the bartender steps up before us.

“Uh—”

“We’re celebrating,” Killer reasons, as I turn my back to the bar and scan the room.

It’s been decorated differently from last year, but it’s just as incredible.

Reese and her team do an outstanding job coordinating these events. I can’t even begin to imagine the number of hours that go into planning something that runs this smoothly.

But as good as the decorations are, they’re not what I really want to see.

I’ve seen Hailee numerous times this week, but we haven’t spoken more than a few words to each other.

Every single day, I’ve wanted to make an excuse and go up to her office, or swing by her apartment building as I headed home, but I’ve held back.

But I only have so much self-control, and I’m seriously hoping that tonight, she’s going to take me up on my request for a dance.

My eyes sweep over all the people already in here. I recognize a lot, even with their masks on, but there are just as many I’m not familiar with.

For the longest time, I can’t find her, and despite knowing that she’ll be here somewhere, I start to panic that maybe she had to cancel.

But then, in the far corner of the room, a flash of red catches my eye, and my heart lurches.

“Here,” Killer says, holding a glass in front of my face.

“T-thanks,” I stutter, wrapping my fingers around it.

“To a successful night,” he says before clinking his glass against mine.

Of course, this is a charity event with a silent auction designed to raise money for the charities the Vipers support, but that isn’t what Killer is raising his glass to. Financial success at this event is guaranteed. He’s commenting on his luck with the ladies tonight.

It’s always harder—or so I’ve heard—when the room isn’t full of bunnies to take your pick from. But even still, there will be plenty of single women—or even taken ones—who are more than happy to leave their inhibitions at the hotel entrance and live out the fantasy of spending the night with a hockey player. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason Killer is here. It’s certainly why he never turns up to these things with a date.

With my eyes still on the woman in the red dress, I wait for her to turn around.

The sight of her bare back has already raised my temperature. My head fills with images of all the things I shouldn’t do, like dragging my knuckles up the curve of her spine, feeling how soft her skin is, stepping up behind her and pressing my lips to the spot between her neck and her shoulder, while breathing in her sweet scent.

Lost in my own world, I take a sip of my drink right as Hailee spins around. I swallow, but the whiskey goes down the wrong way, and I cough, spraying alcohol everywhere, fighting like hell to keep my eyes on the woman who’s featured in every single one of my filthy fantasies for a year now, looking like a fucking goddess in red.

19

HAILEE

Istand with a glass of prosecco in hand, sipping slowly as I watch everyone enjoying themselves around me.

Everyone arrived in a good manner; no one embarrassed themselves or accidentally disrespected the franchise. Everything is going smoothly, and I can finally relax. I could probably slip out at this point without anyone noticing. Well, until everyone takes their seat for the meal. I’m pretty sure my team would have something to say then.