Chapter Two

"This is such bullshit," I growl to Coach Grayson Marrow, shoving my stuff into my bag. "You know Gordon started every single one of those altercations."

"I know," Coach says, clasping my shoulder. "Jordan knows it too. But you got a game misconduct. We're the new kids on the block. We have to play by the rules."

"Well, the rules are bullshit." I slam my locker before looping my bag over my shoulder. I've been playing professional hockey long enough to know there is no fighting this suspension, though. Our next game is Saturday. If I don't take the suspension on the chin, the President of the League will lengthen the suspension after his review. We can't afford that. I'd rather be out one game than three.

But fuck Bruce Gordon, for real. I don't know what his problem is, but he's a menace.

"Any idea why he was gunning for you so hard?" Coach asks, walking me toward the doors.

"Not a fucking clue." I rake a hand through my hair, still not sure what I did to piss in the man's Cheerios. Five years ago, we played on the same team. We were never close, and he's always been a douche. But we were never enemies either. Whatever crawled up his ass last night felt personal, though.

Coach lifts his chin in a nod. "Guess he had something to prove."

"Guess so," I mutter, not entirely sure what he was trying to prove. That he can take a beating? That I can still outskate him? Don't know and don't care to find out. Leia is the only good thing to come out of the entire shitshow that was last night's game. Well, her and the fact that we won.

Leia, the smart-mouthed little troublemaker who melts like sugar as soon as I touch her. Fuck, she's pretty with her blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. She looks like she belongs in a classroom, teaching kindergarten. But there's a sort of steel in her eyes that makes my dick hard. She's trouble with a capital T. I should know because I've caused enough of it.

I play hockey because it keeps me grounded. I need structure in my life. Hockey gives me that in spades. We wake up early and train until we're too fucking exhausted to do anything else. And then we get up and do it all over again. That's been my life since I was fourteen. Before that? Well, it was either hockey or juvie for me. I was not a good kid.

I had too much free time and a penchant for pulling pranks that weren't always legal. Hockey straightened me out. By the time I finished my first game, I was hooked. I still play the occasional prank on my teammates—we razz the shit out of one another—but they're harmless.

Is whatever Leia doing harmless? I don't know. She was dead-set against telling me what she was doing in our locker room. I don't believe for a second that she got lost, though. I reviewed the security footage. She snooped through several other rooms before she found our locker room.

Did she think it was the Stingrays' locker room?

If I can't fly out with the team tomorrow for the game on Saturday, it'll give me a chance to track down the curvy little goddess and ask her myself. She's been occupying ninety-nine percent of my brain since last night. It's driving me crazy. Actually, the possibility that she was trying to sneak into the Stingrays' locker room to meet Bruce Gordon is driving me crazy. There's no goddamn way I'm letting her anywhere near him.

She's mine. I decided that about five seconds after I met her. There's something about her that I want to lay claim to in the most primal way possible. Maybe that's fucked up, but I don't really care. I'm going to ruin her for anyone else. Just as soon as I find out who the fuck she is.

With a name like Leia, I don't figure it'll be that difficult in a town this size.

"Be here for the team meeting tomorrow!" Coach shouts after me. "Your ass isn't off the hook just because you're not flying out for the game."

"Yeah, yeah." I duck through the doors and run right into Miles Tempest. His long hair is pulled back away from his face, which is set in a dark scowl. There's a reason everyone calls him Temper. He's a cranky fucker, which makes it far too easy to mess with him.

"You!" he growls, smacking me in the chest with a book. "You did this!"

I glance at the cover of the book and double over with laughter. "Jesus Christ, Miles. I'm not one to judge a kink, but tentacles, man? Really?"

He growls at me again before snatching the book back from me. "I didn't buy it. You did! You had the love of my life deliver it to me." His face turns red. "I'm going to murder you, bring you back to life, and then murder you again."

"Holy shit," I whisper, clinging to the bar on the door as I laugh so hard I fucking wheeze. "They delivered it in person? I thought they'd just send it in the mail."

"So it was you!"

"Obviously."

"You have to go to the bookstore and tell them it's yours."

"Uh, fuck no."

"You're going." Miles smacks me in the chest with the book again like it's a goddamn weapon.

"Uh, no, I'm not." Hell to the no, I'm not walking my big ass in the bookstore and telling them I bought it for me. He's lost his mind. Unlike Miles, I don't have connections here to help smooth my way. If I become Tentacle Porn Guy, I'll never live that shit down.

"You're going," he says, narrowing his eyes at me. "Or I'm telling Razor Montgomery what Alec saw in the locker room last night."

I open my mouth and then close it, the satisfaction in his eyes making me wary. He knows something I don't. Razor Montgomery used to play guitar for Bent, one of the biggest rock bands in the world, before they retired. He lives here in town and is one of our biggest supporters. He and Jordan, the owner of the Falcons, are close. But why the fuck would he care that Alec walked in on me and Leia in the locker room last night? "What does Razor Montgomery have to do with anything?"

Satisfaction turns to smug triumph as Miles smirks at me. "You don't even know who the fuck you were messing around with last night, do you?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Leia Marsh is Razor's sister-in-law."

Fuck me. Razor Montgomery is going to kill me if he finds out I was feeling up his sister-in-law in our locker room last night with my cock out. He's going to be especially pissed if he finds out someone walked in and is spreading that shit around. The last thing I need right now is one of our biggest supporters riding the hate train because our security guard is running his damn mouth about my business. He has the power and influence to have me booted at the end of the season.

Funny how that should be my primary concern, but ninety percent of my brain is focused on the fact that I now know Leia's full name. I can figure out what she was really doing here last night, make her fall for me, and keep Razor from wanting to kill me. It's a win-win-win. And if I just so happen to fuck my kid into her in the process, well, I won't be sad about that.

Right after I deal with Alec for running his mouth. That shit is about to stop immediately. Leia isn't a fucking puck bunny, and I won't have anyone talking about her like she is.

"You're coming with me to the bookstore or I'm telling Razor about your little liaison," Miles says.

And there's the wrench in my plans. A pissed-off, six-foot-sized wrench.

"It's just a book, Miles," I growl.

"My fucking soulmate delivered it to my doorstep, you dick." He smacks me across the chest with the offending book again. "She thinks I have a tentacle fetish. You're fixing it. Today."

I take pity on him. If I fucked up his one shot with this woman, I'll feel bad for the rest of my life. And he'll never forgive me. I'd rather be humiliated than have that on my conscience. I may like jokes, but I prefer the harmless kind. This one kind of blew up in my face.

"Fine," I sigh. I guess I'm dealing with this shit first and then dealing with Alec. "I did the crime; I'll do the time. But if you breathe a word about last night, I'm telling your girl everything I know about you. Including about that time you had food poisoning."

His face pales. "You wouldn't."

If it were just my reputation at stake, he's right, I wouldn't. But Leia is the one at risk of being labeled a puck bunny here, not me. She was upset enough last night, and she did nothing wrong. That was all on me. I'm the one who wouldn't put pants on when she asked. I'm the one who couldn't keep my hands to myself. And I'm the one who will move heaven and earth to make sure she doesn't suffer because of it.

"I wouldn't even hesitate," I growl, grabbing the book from Miles. "Let's get this humiliating shitshow on the road. I've got a situation of my own to handle."