1. Sassy

1

SASSY

“Please don’t ask me to do this with you,” I beg, staring at my roommate and best friend.

“Come on, Sassy. It’s been so long since we actually got to hang out together. I need this,” she wheedles, staring at me with these big, puppy-dog brown eyes that I just can’t say ‘no’ to!

“I’ve been working. You know that. We’ve got so many new things going on at the library and it’s been a mess with the renovations. I just haven’t had time to do anything but work. It’s nothing personal.”

She huffs, her short, caramel-brown curls fluffing up as she glares at me. “I’m telling you, if you don’t come out with me when I’ve got these tickets my boss gave me for free… I’m gonna take it personally. We never get to go anywhere,” she whines.

It’s true. We’re always trying to save up for some girls’ trip or other adventure but we usually get derailed by some expense that we never saw coming. Like my car breaking down twice this year. I really need to replace the dang thing but it’s more than I can afford right now. It’s not like librarians make a ton of money.

“Fine. But if we do this, we’re not hanging around once it’s over. I absolutely do not want to go stare at a bunch of sweaty neanderthals at a bar who can’t do anything but grunt and belch!”

“You can be so judgmental about jocks. I just don’t get it. They’re human too. They put on their pants one leg at a time. They just happen to have fantastic legs that go with bodies like Greek gods.”

Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms. I don’t just dislike jocks.

I hate them.

I’m sure there might be some great guys out there that play sports. I’ve just never run across any of them and I’m not likely to in a bar after a hockey game or whatever the hell it might be called.

“I’m not gonna hang out with hockey players. I don’t care what you do to get invited…” I point my finger at her because we both know she’ll try. She likes meatheads. “I’m not going with you. You’ll have to go by yourself.”

“Fine. Be that way. But I think you’re missing out if you don’t ride one of those boys like he’s a bucking bronco one of these days.”

Her exploits are legendary. The girl likes to find herself some action everywhere she goes. I’m just not interested.

I lift my brow and grin at her. “You’ve had enough dick for the both of us. I think I’m good.”

“Pfft!” She wags a finger at me but lets it drop. “Just get dressed. I can’t wait to see this match-up! These guys are hot with a capital H!”

“Doesn’t mean they’re any good.”

“Seriously, lighten up!”

I sigh and turn around. “I’ll change into jeans and a T-shirt. Be back in a minute.”

I shut the door behind myself and sigh. I really hate this. I don’t like any kind of sports and I sure as hell don’t like guys who play sports.

I remember back to hearing: “There she is! Miss Ice Princess in all her glory! If by glory you mean her big ass!”

I wince when I picture Brett Barker. The bastard made my life hell all through school. If he wasn’t knocking my books out of my hands he was sliding under me when I wasn’t looking. I lost track of how many times I didn’t pay attention and all of a sudden found myself sitting on his lap, his arms around me like an iron ring holding me in place.

“I bet you’d be so grateful for a good fuck that you’d have no problems doing any damn thing I wanted,” he said.

I blushed and lifted my hands up to my flaming cheeks. Always. He was always so foul-mouthed that I couldn’t stop blushing. Even now, I can’t. He’s the reason I’ve never even gone to a game or looked at a man if he plays sports.

They’re all big-ego bastards who think you should be grateful if they deign to notice you. Too freaking bad. I’m not interested. Not at all.

I finish dressing and walk out, holding my arms out. “Well, how do I look?”

“Like a girl who needs a good time more than I need my next ice cream bar.”

“Wow! That’s saying something,” I laugh and grab a light jacket. “Since you eat those dang things like they’re going out of style!”

“Hey! Sometimes you just have to eat your feelings and considering that I’m in a very long dry spell, I need that chocolate goodness.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “You’re such a dirty girl.”

She laughs and points at herself. “Guilty as charged.” She turns serious. “One of these days you’re going to have to get rid of that V-card. Or at least go out on a damn date.”

I groan. “Not this weekend, please. I still have to go in to work tomorrow and I just don’t have the dang energy to deal with thinking about that right now.”

“Fine. But make sure you relax because I’m setting us up on a double date next weekend. You need to get out more and so do I.”

“Hmph!” I snort. “You date all the time.”

She points her finger at me. “No arguments. We’re going out next weekend. I’m supposed to be going out on my third date with this guy I’ve been seeing, so you know what that means?” She winks at me and her brown eyes sparkle.

“Uh. Yeah. You’re doing something very bad and you want to make sure I don’t see said bad thing. Thank you for the warning.”

She giggles and I smirk at her. “Whatever. But we’re going out. Ben has this friend of his that he wants to set up.”

“Why doesn’t this guy have a girlfriend?”

“He’s kind of picky. I guess he turns him down every time he asks him to double. But this time we’re not giving him the chance to say no.”

“Whoa.” I wave my arms at her like I’m stopping traffic. “That does not sound like a guy I want to go out with.”

“It’s just one date. Just to get back on the horse. You’ve been sitting home alone too long.”

“I like being home. You’re there. I’m there. My things are there. It’s perfect.”

“Don’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“I’m already seeing signs that you’re gonna back out on me. Don’t do that to me.”

“Fine. I’ll go out with this guy if you stop bringing up dating after that. I’m just not that interested.”

“Well, get interested.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s go before I back out of this too.”

She glares at me. “You’ve been working too much and you need to have a little fun. That’s my middle name you know.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah. Sounds like you.” I stalk to the door and then hold it open. “Let’s get this torture over with.”

She swats me on the shoulder as she goes by, shooting me a cross glare. “Settle your ass down and paste a smile on your face, girlfriend. You’re about to see some of the cutest guys in the NHL. Enjoy it!”

Rolling my eyes, I shut the door behind her. “Right.”

When we reach the arena, the place is packed and I groan. “Ugh. This place is ridiculous. I’m not sure how the hell we’re gonna find a seat. Let alone parking.” But we find a spot and get parked.

Stepping inside and heading to our seats in the front, I can’t help but feel the excitement creeping inside me. I’ve never been to a sporting event and there’s just so much going on. I can see the players warming up out on the ice, their bodies looking huge in the gear and padding that they wear. You can barely tell they’re human with all of that and the helmets covering so much of their heads!

But the crowd is screaming already and it’s like the gods out there on the ice know it. The lights and sound bounce off of them as they hammer each other and there are high-fives every time one of them does something.

Like breathe? I guess.

I sit down in the seats that Becca’s boss got for us. Or for anyone in the company, I guess. “How did you get these seats anyway? These are really good seats…I think.” I seriously know nothing about hockey but I can see that there’s plexiglass right in front of us and I wince when I see some of the guys running each other into the barriers.

“He likes to come to the games with his brother but both of them were busy this weekend so they did a drawing at work. And I won!”

I smile and smack her shoulder lightly. “That’s amazing! You didn’t tell me that!”

“It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting you to agree to this.”

“Fine. I’m here. Let the games begin!” I holler, pumping my fist in the air.

“That’s the attitude.”

Before I can think too much about it, I see a guy out on the ice look over at us. He’s big. I mean, they all are but this guy seems super-big. And he’s got all this gear on that makes it hard to get a look at him. But when he looks up from where he’s lining up with another guy facing him and two more guys from his team flanking him by a red circle, I can see his bright green eyes and I still, my breath even freezing in my throat.

“Who are you looking at?”

I point shakily over to the line and she smiles. “You’ve got good taste. That’s the center, Emile. But they call him Frostbite. I’m assuming because he tears the other guys apart… I’m not really sure.”

But the whole time she’s talking I watch him and he stands up, his gaze locked on mine. I can’t breathe. Can’t feel my fingers, my toes. All I feel is my own heart pounding in my chest and the rush of my blood in my veins.

I see the official with him saying stuff and he seems to jerk back to himself. And then the puck hits the ice and the screaming around me jerks me back to the present.

I watch as his big body hammers into another guy and then they go at it. He gets the puck and drives forward, the other guys flanking him. One of the other team powers forward so fast that he’s a fucking blur and then he grabs the puck from the first guy.

The whole game is a nail-bitingly intense game of chess at high speeds and with extreme bodily contact.

I wince when he gets slammed into the barrier around us, hell right in front of us. I can hear the grunt of his air rushing out of his lungs although I have no idea why! It’s loud as hell and he’s not screaming, he’s grunting.

But it doesn’t matter. I still hear him and that pisses me off. I can feel my body melting, straining towards him.

I tell that hussy to knock it off. “You don’t like these big, violent kinds of guys.”

But no matter how much I tell her that, she doesn’t listen and my pussy throbs. The other guy pulls off of him and he stands there for a minute, staring at me, his big hand on the barrier. I walk forward like I’m in a trance and my hand lifts, looking tiny alongside his huge paw. His green eyes lock on me and I breathlessly stare at him.

But then one of his buddies comes up and taps his arm and he turns away. It feels like the first time I can take a whole breath and I scramble out of the box hollering that I’ll be right back.

When I reach the top of that arena, I look back and I swear his eyes lock on me immediately and I can feel their laser warmth from here.

I don’t bother with checking in with Becca. Just make a run for it. I can’t be here. I call for an Uber and run away.

My heart doesn’t quit racing until hours later when I can finally close my eyes and rest.

Hockey is way too dangerous. Becca’s pissed at me because I took off but there was just no way I could be around that guy. Not watching him skate around that ice like an elegant assassin. Not while his eyes locked on mine and hypnotized me.

Not while my whole body felt alive whenever I saw him move. I’m not sure what my problem is, but the best thing to do was get the hell away from him. I don’t need or want a jock.

Not even one that looks like a god among men.

I’ve got to remember that all men are the same.

Trouble.