Boyfriend Bargain - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,37

that shit never happens. I’m the fastest one out there, but you wouldn’t know it by the way I played today. I rub at my wrist, nursing the bruise I got from a defenseman’s clean check when I cut in front of him to push the puck in. Instead he slammed me into the wall and I landed wrong.

After a few minutes, I’m feeling more centered and walk inside. Eric and Reece and some of the guys are at the dartboard, and I make my way to the bar to meet up with Boone, one of our freshman players who I’m mentoring. All the seniors get a “little brother” and he’s mine, a talented center from Chicago. Veronica sees me and follows, asking about Eric’s birthday party and what decorations I think would work. I tune her out, telling her she can do whatever she wants, and Boone joins shortly after.

A tingling sensation washes over me as I sit here, and I look up to the mirror then pause mid-sentence.

Sugar.

A few teasing texts later, I watch as she gets out of the booth and faces me.

The first thing I notice tonight is how long her legs are, the way her leggings cling to her voluptuous curves. I’m discovering something new about her each time I see her. My gaze lingers on her tits, and for the hundredth time, I wonder what she’d look like splayed out on my bed naked.

“Sheee-it. Nice rack,” Boone says appreciatively, his gaze following mine.

“Shut the fuck up,” I say, not taking my eyes off her. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

I sense him stiffening. “Okay.”

She toys with a piece of her ponytail as if she’s nervous, and her hands fall to her sides when she straightens her shoulders—as if preparing for war—and walks toward me. She doesn’t want this thing we have. I see it in the way she walks, her steps unsure, and at one point she stops in front of a pool table and pivots back around toward her table. But, after a moment, she does a pirouette and marches forward, a look of resolve on her face.

It makes my smile deepen. She’s just a tiny bit intimidated by me when she’s the one who’s got me by the balls.

I’m going to make her mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“Chick’s an Amazon. I like those legs.” He whistles under his breath.

“I won’t tell you to shut up again, Boone. I’ll just plant my fist in your face next time. She’s off limits.”

He holds his hands out to placate me. “Fine, fine. I get it now—she’s yours and you’re a little territorial.”

Not normally.

But her…

Veronica, who’s been texting, has finally stopped long enough to figure out I’m distracted. She turns and watches Sugar approach, her brittle gaze raking over her.

“Reece said she was at your house—with pie. That’s weird. Who brings pie to a guy’s house?” I feel her bristling.

“She’s a nice girl. Don’t be a bitch,” I say.

She inhales a breath. “Me? Why are you being an asshole?”

I sigh, looking over at her. She’s a pretty girl with sleek red hair, delicate features, and big green eyes. Her parents died two years ago in a private plane crash, and she hasn’t been the same since. I get grief, I really do, but she needs to step off when it comes to me.

“This girl isn’t one of those jersey chasers you toy with. Leave her alone.”

Confusion flashes over her face. “You actually like her?”

My answer is silence and a raised eyebrow.

She sputters and crosses her arms. “She’s…not your type.”

“What is my type then?”

Her lips flatten. “Reece said she’s from the south. Does she even know the first thing about hockey?”

I bark out a laugh. “I don’t even care. She probably likes football.”

She searches my gaze and gives me a triumphant look. “She’s just like all the rest.”

My gaze sharpens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her giggle grates on my nerves. “Oh, come on, Z. Your heart is cold as ice. You go from one girl to the next, and I don’t even think you remember their names. She’ll be gone in a few weeks and a new one will come along.”

It won’t be you, my face tells her.

I lean in, keeping my voice low so no one can hear me. “I’ve been cutting you slack for a while, putting up with how you boss girls around, and that’s cool. I can deal with that, but don’t keep wishing it was you on my arm. I’m

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