Behind the Net: a grumpy sunshine hockey romance

WE’RE PLAYING Calgary again a few nights later. Alexei Volkov has the puck, but after he shoots, Miller crosschecks him. The puck hits the pipe, and the fans at the other end of the stadium jump to their feet, calling for a penalty. Play continues, and the booing begins.

When the Cougars’ goalie catches the next shot, the whistle blows, and the refs and the linesmen take a moment to discuss before breaking apart.

“No penalty,” the announcer calls, and the entire arena boos.

Miller grins at the fans, arms wide open as he skates down the ice. They’re furious, slamming fists on the glass, and he revels in it. He takes his glove off and flips them the middle finger, and the boos get louder.

Now the whistle blows, and he gets a penalty.

Jesus fucking Christ. I barely recognize him. He used to be so disciplined and focused, like me. He used to love hockey, even with his dad watching his every move and berating him after games about what he did wrong.

I grab my water bottle and make eye contact with Pippa. She smiles, and I nod back. Hazel’s with her tonight, drinking a beer and looking bored. The few times play has stopped near my net, Rory’s eyes went straight to them.

Pippa’s laughing at something Hazel said. She winks at me with a pretty smile, and my cock twitches. I thought the morning after would be awkward, but Pippa’s been completely normal. Almost as if nothing happened.

I should be relieved she isn’t upset. I should put it out of my head and move on. Instead, I can’t stop thinking about the other night.

She was right that we shouldn’t be messing around. What happened with my mom was a warning shot, a reminder of what can go wrong if I’m not there for her.

It doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.

I’m desperate to make Pippa come again, but if we start messing around, we won’t stop. I’ll make her mine, over and over, every morning, afternoon, and night. Probably in the middle of the night. She’s too fucking sweet, too soft, too special, and I can’t get enough of my pretty assistant. She’s so much more than the pretty girl from high school, and the closer we get, the more my resolve around her crumbles.

She deserves so much more than me, anyway. Someone who can make her their full focus, give her everything. I hate the idea of another guy in her life like that, but I want her to be happy.

Play resumes, and I tear my gaze away and pull myself back into the game.

After the game, I head up to the box. Pippa spots me right away and gives me a small wave as I walk over.

“Hi.” I clear my throat, glancing around. “Where’s Hazel?”

“She went to the washroom. She’ll be right back.” She smiles up at me. “Great game.”

“Thanks.”

Our eyes meet and my gaze drops to her lips. My blood is still pumping hard from the game, adrenaline flowing through my veins, and the only thing I want to do right now is drag her home and do more of what we did the other night.

“There she is,” Miller calls as he approaches Pippa. He gives her a big hug, lifting her off her feet, and she lets out a peal of laughter.

My nostrils flare and I fold my arms over my chest, glaring at them. “What are you doing here?”

He sets her down and tugs on the end of her ponytail. My fists clench, and I feel the urge to hit him. “Just saying hey to my pal Pippa.”

She grins at him. “Hey.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Hey,” he chirps back, and they laugh.

I hate this.

“Players from the other team aren’t supposed to be in here.” My tone is sharp, and my chest feels tight. They shouldn’t be smiling at each other like that. She’s mine, not his.

He rolls his eyes and tilts his chin across the room, where Calgary’s goalie is talking with our second line forward. “Thurston’s basically trading plays with your guy. No one cares.” He beams down at Pippa and throws his arm around her shoulder, and rage surges in my blood. “How ya been, kid?”

She snorts. “You’re two years older than me.”

“Yeah, but you’re short.”

“I’m a normal height.”

I hate the way she’s tucked into his side like that. She should be tucked into my side. Not his. Never his.

“You’re just ridiculously tall,” she tells him.

My jaw hurts from clenching. I swallow past the knives in my throat as my pulse beats in my ears. Why am I so fucking worked up right now?

Hazel appears at Pippa’s side, giving me a cool nod. “Hi.”

“Hazel.” I nod at her.

Her gaze goes to Miller, with his stupid arm still thrown around Pippa, and she makes a face of disgust.

I knew I liked Hazel.

“Hi, Hartley,” he says. He’s looking at Hazel with a confident smirk, but something predatory flashes through his eyes. “Remember me?”

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Hazel’s distasteful expression intensifies. “Nope.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Pippa glances between them. “You know each other? You were in different years.”

Miller’s looking at Hazel like she’s dessert. “We had a couple classes together. Hartley’s a real brainiac.”

“Right.” Pippa nods at Hazel. “I forgot you took summer classes to get ahead.”

He lets Pippa go and takes a step toward Hazel, still wearing that confident smirk that I want to wipe off his face. At least he’s not directing it at Pippa anymore. “How you been, Hartley? Pippa says you’re working for the team.”

Hazel regards him over the rim of her beer as she takes a sip. “Yep.”

“You always did have a thing for hockey players.”

Pippa winces at me. My eyebrow arches, and she mouths tell you later.

Hazel stares at him like he’s a squished bug on the floor, and if he wasn’t hitting on Pippa moments before, I’d have the urge to laugh. I see the hockey gossip. Women don’t usually look at him the way Hazel’s looking at him.

From the gleam in his eye, it doesn’t seem like he minds, though. “You grew up well,” he tells her.

She just stares at him, and he gestures at himself.

“Aren’t you going to say I grew up well, too?” His eyes glitter with amusement.

“Congratulations. You now seem like the kind of guy who owns a really expensive sex doll.”

“Her name is Diane.” He grins openly at her, and I can tell he loves this.

Pippa and Hazel gag in unison. “You shouldn’t name them, Rory,” Pippa says, and he shakes with laughter.

“Does your sex doll have a head?” Hazel asks him.

His eyes don’t leave her face. “She did, but I removed it.” His tongue taps his upper lip.

“That’s worse.”

He just grins at Hazel like he wants to keep her. Pippa shoots me an amused smile. It feels private, and my chest squeezes.

Hazel says something to Pippa and she turns her head to listen. Her ponytail brushes my arm, and I’m transported to a few days ago, when she sat between my legs, shaking against me as she came in my arms. I can still feel her hair against my chest as she writhed. I can’t stop feeling it.

“You should come out with me and Pippa when she shows me around,” he tells Hazel.

She stares at Pippa. “What is he talking about?”

Pippa rolls her eyes. “Rory needs someone to show him around Vancouver, even though he grew up here and doesn’t live here anymore.”

Rory tries to push Pippa behind him, and she dissolves into laughter. “Don’t listen to her, babe.” He smiles again at Hazel. “You should join us.”

“I’m busy.” Hazel scowls. “And don’t call me babe.”

“Sorry.” He places his hand on his heart with remorse. “Baby.”

She stares at him before turning to Pippa. “You know he’s going to try to lure you into a threesome, right?”

Pippa laughs. “I’ve never been in a threesome.”

“You’re not having a threesome,” I snap, and all three of them look at me like I’ve grown a second head. “And you’re not sleeping with Miller.”

I can hear myself, but I can’t stop.

Pippa nudges me with her elbow. “We’re just kidding,” she tells me before turning back to Miller. “When are you in town next?”

“I’m here for a couple more days, actually. Free tomorrow if you are.”

His eyes are practically fucking twinkling at her. Rory Miller is twinkling at my Pippa. Everything about this is wrong, and a possessive rage rushes through me.

The idea of him trying something with her makes me feel sick. I just glare down at her, wishing I could pull her out of here so we could be alone.

“Tomorrow’s perfect,” Pippa tells him.

Miller’s looking at me like he won something. He’s challenging me, but I can’t do a fucking thing. I’ve already drawn the line with Pippa and crossed it a few times.

That fucking fuck. I hate him for playing this stupid game with me. I hate myself for getting this jealous over a woman I can’t have.

“Great.” He sends me a broad smile. “It’s a date.”