Clipped by Love (Bellevue Bullies #2)

by Toni Aleo

  Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I shake away the thought as I suck in another deep breath before letting it out in a whoosh. My stick rests loosely in my hand as the puck taunts me from where it lays on the ice. It wants me to give it no mercy, and I don’t intend to. Moving it back and forth quickly with the blade of my stick, I dig into the ice and I’m off from the blue line. Sailing across the ice with ease, I move the puck through the hurdles as if they aren’t even there to give me a challenge, and really, they aren’t. Nothing is. I was born to do this. To make my daddy proud.

  When I get through the last hurdle, I spin around, taking the puck with me before moving it back to my skate, hitting it back up to my blade before I shift on my back leg to shoot. Taking in the goal, I see that he’s blocked off a lot of the goal, only leaving me three spots at which to shoot. Left top shelf, bottom right-hand side, and five-hole. Thinking on my feet, I adjust my shoulders as my stick comes down quickly, cracking against the puck. All my strength and hope that I impress him are the driving forces behind my shot before it rockets into the goal. Top shelf. My favorite place to shoot.

  I want to throw my hands up, cheer for the flawless shot I just achieved, but my dad doesn’t like that. He believes in celebrating inside, not to showboat. So instead, I rest my stick up against my shoulders as I skate toward him, looking at him for any sign that he is proud of me. He doesn’t give it to me, and slowly I doubt that I’ll be able to go to Clearwater Beach with my friends.

  We want to go for one last hurrah before we start back at school. They’ve been begging me to ask him, but I’ve been too scared to. During the summer, I train and I train hard. I’ve been on skates since I was a baby. My dad jokes that I skated before I walked, and since no one can object to that, I’ve always believed him. There isn’t a day that passes that he doesn’t tell me I’m going places. And while it’s a whole lot of pressure, I believe him.

  Because I’m the only female hockey player to play on a male college team in the United States.

  I mean, not to toot my own horn, but I can hold my own, and I’m damn awesome. It’s been said that I am better than most of the boys, and because of that, my dad fought for me to be on a team where I would be challenged. Since he coaches, it only made sense, despite the hatred that goes along with it. A lot of people doubt me, and the guys on the team tend to be dicks, but once I get on that ice, they soon shut up. Jealously rings loudly, but I ignore it. I have to. Because no matter what, I’m a force to be reckoned with, and no one can touch my skill level.

  My career thus far speaks for itself.

  I’ve played on the Junior Olympics team since I was six, which is unreal, since you have to be asked to play for the team, and to be asked to play at six is huge. I’ve also been named MVP of the USA team every year since I was six. I’ve scored over five thousand times. My time on the ice exceeds even that of seasoned players. I was playing on an advanced teen level when I was eleven. Soon I was so good that my dad had to switch me to play on a boys’ travel team because I was murdering in the female league, and he wanted me to get better. Every team I play for, I excel on, and I never ever give up. I work my ass off because I love being the best. Because of that, my father and my agent feel I have a one-way ticket into the NHL.

  It’s a long shot, but I will make it.

  I will be the first woman in the NHL.

  I will make my daddy proud.

  When his hazel eyes meet mine, he nods. “Good.”

  “Good?” I scoff before pointing to the course he’s made me. “I killed that.”

  He nods, a grin pulling at his lips. “You didn’t put all the force in your shot. I know you can hit it harder.”

  “I wanted accuracy, though. I wanted top shelf. I know I can shoot harder, and I would have if I had no opening, just for the mere hope that it would make its way in. But for this exercise, I felt I needed to have accuracy.”

  He nods again, and while he holds my gaze, my heart is pounding in my chest. I know I am right, but does he think so? “Yeah, I know. I’m just busting your chops. Good work, Bay.”

  I smile at my nickname. No one is allowed to call me that but him. People have tried and I’ve shut them down. It means more when it comes from him because he only calls me that when he is really proud. Elated, I unbuckle my cage and push it up so I can see him a bit better. “Thanks, Dad.”

  He sends me a grin before standing up and stretching his arms above his head. I rock back and forth in my skates, the silence stretching between us as I figure out how I’m gonna ask. With being the best, I don’t have much downtime. My dad is making a winner, as he says. I have to train, and I have to train a lot to be able to exceed the talents of the guys that I go against. I have to have a quick shot, I have to be fast, and most of all, I have to be able to take the hits that come my way. And I can do all that, but man, I need a few days off.

  Just a few.

  Turning his back to me, he reaches for his clipboard and his phone and then asks, “When are you gonna ask me about Florida?”

  I look up quickly and he sends me a grin before reaching for his stool. Stunned, I suck in a deep breath. “You know about that?”

  He scoffs as he looks over his shoulder at me. “Baylor, I know all.”

  This time I’m the one scoffing at him. “Please.”

  He laughs. “I heard the girls the other day telling you to ask me. You know you can. You’re twenty, Baylor. You are an adult.”

  He’s right, but still. I respect him way too much to just run off. “I know, but I want you to approve of it.”

  “You want me to say no so you’ll have to keep working. I know you’re nervous about this year.”

  I shrug, hating how well he knows me. This year is gonna be hard. I have scouts from NHL teams all over the States coming to check me out. To see if I’m worth the chance. My agent, and even my dad, stresses that I need to work hard every day, and I know they are right. I also know I am worth the chance, and I know I need to work for it. But at the same time, I need to breathe. As much as I hate to admit it, I feel like hockey is suffocating me, and that scares me.

  “Maybe,” I answer with a shrug. “But I also need a break.”

  “I agree,” he says, meeting my gaze. “Go, Baylor. Have fun. You’re not a dumb girl, I know you’ll take care of yourself and work hard when you girls aren’t having fun.”

  I look down, the ice crunching underneath my skates as I suck in a deep breath. “I’ll work out every morning.”

  “Good.”

  “And I won’t drink that much.”

  He scoffs, and with a wink, he says, “I will while you’re gone.”

  I look up at him and smile. He doesn’t end a day without a beer; been doing that since I could remember. “Not too much, Dad.”

  “Never, but I gotta keep myself busy.”

  I nod as I let my stick hang loosely in my hand. “Okay.”

  “Good,” he says with a grin, and then he points at me. “Now remember, safe sex, please.”

  “Jesus!” I cry out as I skate toward him to go off the ice. “Not what I need you to say.”

  He laughs. “I’m not stupid. I know what girls your age do.”

  “Not this girl. I have more important things to worry about than boys.”

  He shrugs. “While that does make me happy, I am worried that I might have turned you into a boy.”

  I laugh as I step onto the rubber rug. It’s an ongoing joke that I was actually supposed to be a boy but my dick fell off in the womb. Maybe that’s why my mom left? My dick fell off and it choked her.

  Wow, that was a bit bitter.

  Ignoring that, I smile over at my dad. “Don’t worry, Dad, you’ll have grandkids one day, just not anytime soon. Gotta win a Stanley Cup.”

  “Amen to that,” he says, wrapping an arm around me and kissing my temple.

  My dad knows what’s it’s like to hoist that cup up and over his head. I was only three months old in the picture of my dad as he held m
e in one arm and the cup in the other. He played for the Bruins for six seasons, but then he got my mom pregnant. He was in the middle of the playoffs when my mom went into labor with me, and she left the next day. He tried to have my grandma watch me so he could keep playing, but he always told me it was too hard. He worried about me too much, so he retired after he won. Gave it all up.

  Mind-blowing, right?

  That kind of love really resides in a person, at least it has with me. But sometimes, I feel like I cheated him out of his hockey career, and that’s probably why I work so hard. I want him to know that he gave it all up for a good reason.

  On my skates, I’m as tall as he is at six two, and as I look into his eyes, I can see he is a bit nervous. I don’t leave. I never have. I stay home or he goes with me wherever I have to go. He’s always coached me, always been there for me, and he loves me. I know that. And I love him. More than anything.

  Leaning my head to his, I say, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Bay, you need this. I don’t want you to get burned out. Go have fun with your girls.”

  I’m gonna damn well try.

  Oh my God, it’s gorgeous here.

  Closing my eyes, I tip my head back and let the sun warm my face. I’ve never been to Florida. We’d traveled to all the greatest hockey cities before Dad took the job in Arkansas to get their hockey team on track. And even after living there for two years, I never made my way down here. I wish I had sooner because this is amazing. The waves are crashing against my legs, the sounds of seagulls from above my head mix with the sounds of college kids being dumb, and somehow, I feel so free.

  “I swear, it’s weird as hell seeing you in anything else but a hockey jersey and shorts. Especially a bikini.”

  I glance over at my friend Delanie and smile. She’s right; I don’t wear bathing suits much, and especially a bikini, but I’m in Florida! Time to let loose. Unlike me, Delanie could live in a bathing suit. She has a banging body and tits that make boys chase her across campus. Her long blonde hair is airy in the wind, and the smile on her face has all the guys checking her out. She’s a hottie and so is her twin sister, Mandie. But unlike her sister, Mandie is lying the beach, ignoring us as she texts her boyfriend, which is not an uncommon act for her.

  Mandie and Jason are gonna get married have two kids and three dogs with a white picket fence around their mansion. Jason plays for Arkansas University’s hockey team with me, and he’s going places. Mandie was smart to jump on that when she did. She’s gonna be set for life. Her twin sister, though, doesn’t have time for relationships, and that’s probably why I love her so much. Since Lord knows I don’t have time. Nor do I want one. The last time I went along that road, I was used and abused. So, nope, not happening until I’m like forty or something.

  Looking down at my turquoise chevron bikini, I smile. I have a nice body, thanks to all the tough training I do, and nice boobs, but I have my problem area. My ass. It sucks up every single calorie in the world, and they have no plans on leaving my ass. No matter how much I try to work it off. I’m a little self-conscious since I’m sure my ass is eating my bikini bottoms, but oh well. I’m in Florida. I’m never going to see anyone here ever again.

  “Yeah, weird, huh?”

  She laughs as she pulls her hair up in a ponytail, adjusting her glasses before placing her hands on her hips. “Yeah, but you’re hot.”

  I scoff. I’m not one of those girls who thinks they’re hot. Actually, I know I’m not. “Please.”

  “No, you are,” Mandie says from the sand. “Your ass is hot from down here.”

  I glance down at her and smile. “Thank you for that assessment.”

  “No problem, you have nice assets.”

  That has us laughing uncontrollably before Delanie says, “You should use those assets to land a fling for the weekend.”

  I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “’Cause I have flings.”

  “Exactly! You don’t. Have one this weekend! When was the last time you had sex?”

  I shrug as I think for a second. Deciding to lie since I try really hard to ignore that one time, I say, “High school?”

  They both look at me deadpan, but I don’t care. I don’t live for sex like these two.

  “How depressing,” Delanie decides as she shakes her head. “You need to get laid.”

  “No way,” I say back. “I don’t have time.”

  “How in the world do you not have time? We are sunbathing during the day and partying at night. I feel somewhere in there you can find someone to enjoy your assets,” Mandie informs me. “Don’t be a prude. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

  “For real. Don’t be dumb. The man candy on this beach is insane. I’m going to sample a lot this weekend,” Delanie said with a man-eating grin.

  “What else is new?” I ask, receiving a smack in my arm.

  “Are you saying I’m a slut?”

  I shake my head. “No, slut is mean. More like a cat in heat is what I would go with,” I decide.

  Mandie then adds, “I would say whore, but who am I to judge? I slept with Jason the first night I met him.”

  With a deadpan look, Delanie flips us both off. “Whatever.”

  I smile, wrapping my arm around her and hugging her tightly. “But we love you and your overachieving promiscuity.”

  Looking up at me, since I’m a good foot taller than her, she says, “I think you just insulted me.”

  “Kinda, but it was out of love,” I say with a shrug.

  “Why am I friends with you?”

  I think for a second and then say, “Because you feel sorry for me since I’d be lost without you?”

  She smiles. “That’s exactly it, you bitch.”

  “I love you too,” I say, squeezing her, but I stop when a huge commotion to the left of us steals my attention. Two guys are carrying a smaller guy toward the water as the smaller guy is cursing and screaming in a horrifying way. He’s trying to break free, but those guys aren’t letting up. If he didn’t laugh between each curse word I would think they were trying to kill him. As I take in each one, all extremely good-looking with dark hair and hella great bodies, tattoos and scruff on each of them, I decide they must be brothers. Man, what a gene pool.

  Delanie seems to agree. “Holy fucking shit! Do you see what I am seeing?”

  I nod as Mandie says, “Huh, what, oh shit.”

  “Right?!” Delanie exclaims. Then together they exclaim, “Holy gene pool, batman!”

  I laugh as they grin at each other. They are basically the same person, but they are right. Those boys are gorgeous. As we watch them carry the guy, I notice that everyone is staring, and how could they not? They might not be looking for the reason I am, but it’s quite the show. Both of the bigger guys’ backs are flexing in the most delectable way. It doesn’t take long before the sun is not the only thing making me hot.

  “I would eat the smaller one up in one bite,” Delanie decides. “I don’t care that he is being manhandled right now by the other two. He is fucking hot. Look at that face.”

  I have to agree.

  “If I didn’t love Jason with every fiber in my body, I would nibble on the dude covered in tats’s ass something crazy,” Mandie says with a grin. Again, I agree. That boy’s ass is tight in those surfer shorts…but the taller one. Man. He is yummy. His torso is covered in tattoos, his arms bare, and he has scruff along his jaw that makes me want to nuzzle into it.

  I must have been staring hard because Mandie says, “Hey, Baylor, that taller one though, you should go after that.”

  I mean, he is a tall drink of water for sure, if I want to channel my inner cowgirl, but no way. He is way out of my league. I mean, I’m pretty but I’m not hot. He’s hot, like super fucking hot. His hair is falling into his eyes, his shoulders could break doors, and his body…holy shit. Each muscle is defined, his arms, Jesus, they are things of the gods. As I take him in, I know I’ve seen this type of body, and then it dawns on me.

>   “He’s a hockey player; they all are.”

  Both of them look at me, and Delanie shrugs. “Okay? Then bring on the hockey-player sex!”

  “It’s amazing,” Mandie comments and she may be right. I’ve had my fair share of hockey players, and yes, they rocked my world but then one broke it. So, eh, is my decision.

  When they throw him in the water, I can’t help but laugh at his body flying through the air before he lands face first into the ocean. Both guys are laughing—the taller one has a great laugh—and man, he is gorgeous. When the other guy comes up sputtering out of the water, he calls them some more names, and the middle guy returns his sentiments. The taller guy though, he crosses his arms, watching them and shaking his head. He must be the older brother.

  When the smaller guy glances over at us, Delanie smacks my arm hard.

  “Holy fuck, he’s looking at me,” Delanie squeals before pushing her chest out more, in what I feel is a mating call to men. She’s the best at them.

  “Jesus,” Mandie says. “Please do him and tell me all about it.”

  “Deal,” she says back to her sister as I shake my head.

  Looking back at the dripping wet guy, I see that he likes what he sees, and a bright grin comes over his face. Jesus, he is pretty.

  He then calls out, “Hey, girl!”

  And with that, I decide he is just a pretty face. Laughing, I say, “Wow, a winner with words.”

  Mandie laughs as Delanie flips me off. “Shh, he’s warming up,” she says, waving me off. Then she calls out to the wet boy, “Hey.”

  “Wow, your night together will be great,” I tease as she heads for him.

  “Who needs words, though?” Mandie supplies, and I laugh in agreement.

  “Shut up, guys!” Delanie throws at us before passing me. I watch as they interact, and I have to say, she found a great one-night stand. He has the body of a god, but his brother, holy shit. When my gaze cuts to him to get my fill, I’m surprised to find that he is watching me, and my body quickly sets on fire.

  “I think the bigger guy likes your assets, Baylor,” Mandie mock-sings to me.