Crazy Pucking Love (Taking Shots)

by Cindi Madsen

  I assumed Dane was going to the party, too, then, although he definitely hadn’t bothered mentioning it.

  Vanessa tugged at my jacket sleeve. “Let’s go. I love the Quad and all, but it’d be nice to mingle with a new group of people.”

  “I’m game.” Especially if Dane was there. With a week of classes and the game behind him, maybe he’d be able to relax and have some fun—and I’d love to help him out with that.

  Whitney leaned forward, raising her voice above the crowd. “I’m designated driver tonight, so you guys can go with us. I’ll just tell Beck we need to take the Land Rover in order to fit a few more.”

  Having my brother at the party put a damper on my plan to throw my arms around Dane and kiss him as soon as I saw him. Which meant I’d have to be sneaky in order to even talk to him, but I missed him these past few days. Hopefully we could duck out early and get to the kissing part.

  The game started, and within the first ten minutes, I could see what Dane meant about the game being a tough one. The guys on the other team were not only huge but also played rough and dirty. Hudson ended up in the penalty box, and with our team one man down for those two minutes, the opposing team easily scored.

  Lyla bit her thumbnail. “This game is not off to the best start. Where’d these guys come from? They didn’t look like this last year.”

  Whitney furiously scribbled in her notepad, her eyes darting from it to the ice. “I heard they had an amazing team this year. Their secondary scoring has been unbelievable, and even in penalty kill mode they manage to make huge plays.”

  Lyla looked at her. “It still sometimes throws me off when you sound like the guys while talking about hockey.”

  “Hey, when in Rome. Hudson once joked that I’d make a good sports reporter, and honestly, I’m finding I kind of love it. I’m glad I ended up staying on the sports column on top of writing the other articles, even if it keeps me crazy busy.”

  Well, as much as I didn’t like it, Whitney was right. The other team scored even when one of their guys was in the penalty box, while our defense struggled. They shut down the first line, but then that damn secondary one would score.

  The beginning of the third period was a battle, and Hudson almost got in a fight, then Dane almost got in one defending him. Luckily the refs broke it up before anyone took a swing. And at least the other two players ended up sitting out the same two minutes as Dane and Hudson.

  The ice looked so empty with four less guys, and right before the buzzer, the other team scored again.

  “What the puck, guys?” Lyla shouted. “Why was no one guarding number twelve? He’s their top scorer.”

  The last few minutes of the game ticked down, and while we scored one more goal, the other team immediately scored right after. They hit another in last minute, putting them three ahead at the buzzer, resulting in our first loss of the season.

  The team was still in good standing, and one loss on their record wouldn’t make or break them. But I knew none of the guys would see it that way, and I had a feeling we were about to attend a party with a lot of somber hockey players.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Megan

  The Greek letters tacked onto the red and gray brick house with the wrought iron balcony made it clear we were in the right place.

  A couple of people milled about on the lawn, red cups in hand, and several of the girls were in halter tops and shorts or skirts, which I didn’t understand. I was freezing in my long sleeves, leggings, and boots, not to mention the pink faux leather jacket I exchanged my puffy coat for when Vanessa and I snuck home to change and refresh our makeup.

  As much as I’d wanted to wait outside of the locker room, I was suddenly unsure where Dane and I stood, and I didn’t want him to freak out over me waiting for him—only girlfriends and puck bunnies waited, and I was neither. Which shouldn’t cause a slight sting, because it was all part of our arrangement. Or so I’d told myself way too many times on the drive over.

  The buzz of multiple conversations and music filled the air, and the place was wall to wall bodies—clearly this was more than just a hockey player party.

  Hudson offered to get drinks, and while my brother shot me a look when I asked for a beer, he didn’t overstep and insist on soda instead.

  “Just don’t drink too much,” Beckett said. “And don’t set it down anywhere—you’ve got to watch it at all times.”

  I scanned the room for Dane while trying not to look like I was scanning the room for him. “I’m well versed on safety first party rules.”

  “Safety first would mean that you leave right now.”

  “Well, I was promised a ride home with you, and I don’t think walking from here to campus, or even waiting outside for a cab alone would be very safe.”

  He sighed, and I sighed louder, crossing my arms. “At some point, you’re going to have to recognize that I’m old enough to make my own decisions.” When the muscles in his jaw flexed, I put my hand on his arm. “But I’ll be careful. Promise.”

  “Fine.”

  “And I’m sorry about the game. You guys’ll get them next time.”

  His stern big brother expression softened. “Thanks.”

  Hudson came back balancing five cups. He passed them to Beckett, Lyla, Vanessa, and me, and then turned and wrapped one arm around Whitney. “Man, it was crazy over there.”

  “Thanks for fighting the crowd for us,” Whitney said.

  I still hadn’t spotted Dane, and everyone just sort of stood around sipping their drinks as I awaited a good opportunity to escape unnoticed.

  “Let’s dance,” Lyla said, grabbing my brother’s hand.

  “Who’s idea was it to let you drink?”

  “Yours.”

  “Clearly I forgot how much drunk Lyla loves dancing.”

  She flashed him a grin and tugged on his arm, and he handed me his empty cup and went after her.

  A familiar hat caught my attention, just past the area where people were bobbing along to the beat. Dane was surrounded by people, but it was the girl plastered to his side that turned my blood hot and thick. Hurt bloomed through my chest, too, and the combination made me freeze in place.

  “Ugh,” Whitney said, and I noticed Hudson wasn’t next to her anymore. “That girl. She cycles through the hockey players like she’s a collector determined to have the whole set. Which is fine if that’s her thing and it’s what makes her feel empowered, but what’s not fine is when a guy tells her he has a girlfriend and she says she doesn’t care. If anything, it makes her push harder to get them to sleep with her.”

  My throat tightened. “Lucky for her, Dane doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

  Whitney and Vanessa both gave me sympathy-filled looks.

  “It’s fine, I’m fine.” If I said it enough, it’d make it true, right?

  “If it makes you feel any better, the fact that she’s trying that hard with him means they haven’t had sex. Misty’s one of those girls who means it when she says she doesn’t want a relationship. Once she sleeps with a guy, she moves on to trying to get the next hockey player to complete her collection.”

  Since I’d had sex with Dane and knew how good it was, that didn’t comfort me. How could she not want a repeat performance? I’d wanted one all week, and even now, a shock of awareness went through me thinking about his body pressed against mine.

  While he didn’t seem to be returning her affection—he kept turning to Ryder and talking to him until the girl would tap him on the shoulder—he wasn’t walking away, either.

  Other girls were circled around him and Ryder as well, all pretty, and every single one looking like they were down for some temporary fun.

  So maybe I was being slightly judgmental and jumping to conclusions, but how could I possibly compete?

  No wonder he doesn’t want to be in a committed relationship. Who would when he has access to all that?

  I didn’t want to be that insecure girl, but it was hard when I knew that Dane w
asn’t mine.

  That he might never be.

  Hudson came back from wherever he’d gone, and I fought the urge to pry him for information, which would definitely make me look desperate.

  Whitney kissed his cheek and grinned at him. “Uh-oh,” he said. “I know that look. You want to dance, too, don’t you?”

  They took off, and Vanessa glanced around. “Should we mingle? Or are you going to go say hi to Dane—I can keep myself entertained if you want to feel out the situation.”

  “You’re not going to say hi to Ryder?”

  “Nah. He can come to me if he wants to.”

  I eyed the circle of mostly female people around them and resolve replaced the mix of jealousy and hurt. Okay maybe not replaced, but it at least lessened it. I wasn’t going to go stand in line to talk to Dane. I’d made enough of an effort this week and I wasn’t going to play this stupid game anymore. If he wanted to talk to me, he could make some effort.

  Vanessa jerked her chin toward the corner. “There’s a beer pong game going on over there, and a couple of the guys keep glancing our way. You wanna jump in? Make some friends?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Dane

  I’d already shifted several times to keep Misty at a distance, but she just kept coming back for more. After all the times I’d blown her off, I thought she’d give it up. Judging by how determined she was, I was going to have to be blunt, to the point of being mean. The only reason I’d stuck around so long was because Ox had asked me to be his wingman and help him talk to Lindsay Rivera.

  Honestly, I didn’t know why he asked me—she wasn’t fond of hockey players in general, and since I was Hudson’s roommate when they’d attempted…a sort of half-relationship I guess you could call it, I swore she hated me extra.

  Ox told me to just add to the conversation or make jokes or something, but with Misty interrupting every few seconds, all I was doing was getting frustrated with the entire situation. Add tonight’s loss and the fact that I felt off and annoyed in general lately, and I was over it.

  Megan was nowhere in sight anymore, and I wondered if she’d already left. Not talking to her besides the few minutes before or after class had been harder than I ever imagined, and with each passing day, it made me grouchier and grouchier. The selfish part of me was about to say screw trying to keep this balancing act going between friends with benefits and getting too serious.

  After all, she said we could keep it light. And we were friends, too. Lately it just felt like I was punishing myself for nothing.

  When I turned back, Ryder was scowling at me. “You fail as a wingman.”

  “Bro, I told you it wouldn’t work. She went from our biggest fan to girl most likely to try to off the entire team.”

  “Hey, Dane.” Misty ran her finger down my chest. “Wanna get out of here?” She moved her lips to my ear. “We never finished what we started a few weeks ago.”

  I shrugged her off. “Misty, look, I’m seeing someone. Remember, you met her in the library? So we’re never going to finish what we started.”

  She pushed her lips out into a pout—more manipulation than sorrow.

  I walked away, not wanting to play games. Excited shouts and cheers caught my attention, and I headed over to where a large group of people were gathered around a Ping-Pong table.

  Megan stood across from Daniel, our teammate who belonged to the frat, and from how few cups he had left, she was kicking his ass.

  All the guys in the room seemed to be her fanboys, too, giving her appreciative looks that made me want to tell them to back the hell off.

  Daniel drank the last cup and then pushed away. “That’s it. I concede.”

  “Who’s got next game?” I asked, and one of the guys told me to go ahead.

  I sat across from Megan and her features hardened—I’d been hoping for more of a happy-to-see-me expression, but I suppose I deserved that after ducking her so much this week. Especially since she’d been pissed at me last time I’d tried and failed the whole sucky putting-distance-between-us thing.

  I tried flashing her a smile, attempting to get that easy back and forth thing we were so good at back. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” I bounced the ball to her. “Ladies first.”

  Megan bounced the ball hard and it hit the table and flew right for my head. I dodged and caught it, then raised an eyebrow at her. The fiery look she fired back made it clear she’d meant for it to hit me, and she would’ve been glad if it did.

  Yep, she’s definitely pissed at me.

  “You’re always hurling stuff at my head,” I said, giving her a wide smile. “I’ll try not to take offense.”

  “Oh, I mean offense, so I’d rather you take it that way.” Her words were slurred around the edges, making it clear that while she won the last game, she’d also drunk plenty.

  Drunk and pissed. Great combo.

  Since there were way too many eyes on us to hash this out, I gave her back the ball. Dodged it for the second time. Maybe I should’ve just let it smack me in the face. It’s not like it’d really hurt.

  I made my move, bouncing the ball in one of her cups.

  She tipped it back, and then she tossed the ball, landing it in my cup and making it clear how good her aim was, even drunk.

  The rest of the game played out pretty evenly. But she botched her last turn, and I had a feeling it was on purpose. “I’m out,” she said, pushing away hard enough that a couple of the empty cups fell and rolled around the table.

  Another person took her place, and I stood. “I’m done, too.” I followed after Megan and grabbed her arm. “Wait up.”

  “Oh, now you want to talk?”

  “I told you I was busy this week.” Yes, I’d been trying to balance the space, but the truth was I’d also needed it to play catch-up. Whenever she was around, I couldn’t think about math or my studies; couldn’t think about anything but her lips and her laugh and the way she fucking lit up my life and made me feel like a better person.

  “Yeah, I get it,” she said, yanking her arm out of my grip. “I saw the girl you were busy with earlier.”

  “I spent most of the time trying to keep her off me.”

  “And I know that I don’t get to say anything about you and her, because that wouldn’t be within the terms of our dumbass arrangement, but when I tried to leave with Trevor, you freaked out and demanded I not go with him, so I don’t see why I don’t get to do the same.” The slurring grew worse and she wobbled slightly, leading me to believe she was now at the quite-drunk level, which was somehow also cute on her. And even impaired, she made a good point.

  I lowered my voice and stepped closer to her, close enough my chest bumped hers. “You can do the same.” I dragged my fingertips down her arm. “I’ll let you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, you’ll let me?”

  “I’ll let you drag me into one of these rooms and convince me not to leave, the way I did with you.” My blood heated just thinking about that night, and while I meant it as more of a joke, the fire that blazed to life in her eyes made it clear she didn’t take it that way.

  She made an offended sound as she jabbed a finger to my chest. “In. Your. Dreams.”

  “During what little sleep I get, I do dream of you.”

  The fight drained out of her and her eyes got that glossy sheen that meant a girl was about to cry, and I felt like shit. “I thought we were at least friends.”

  Panic dug its claws into me, the humor I’d attempted to repair things evaporating as I realized how serious this conversation had turned. “We are.”

  “You treated me like a booty call the other night. I stupidly thought you needed me, so I ran right over when you texted, and…” She sniffed.

  I cupped her cheek. “Please don’t cry. You’re right. I suck. I freaked out that morning, at how deep I was getting, and how bad I am for you, and clearly I was right.”

  She batted my hand away. “Th
at’s a cop-out. You can’t just act like an ass and then say, oh, I knew I’d be an asshole. Just don’t be one.”

  I choked back a laugh, because I knew she wouldn’t understand that it wasn’t at her expense but because of the way she put it. “Again, you’re right.”

  “And you told me that you’d let me know if we got too near the line, and you didn’t, so that’s not my fault.”

  “None of this is your fault.” I placed a hand on my chest. “I take all the blame.”

  With a huff, crossed her arms. “So where does that leave us?”

  My heart tugged as I peered into her big blue eyes. “I don’t know.” Despite what she said, it was more complicated than being an asshole or not being an asshole, even though she’d been right to call me on it. Walking away before either one of us ended up more hurt would be the smart move, but I couldn’t do it with her in the same room. With everything in me pulling toward her, craving more. Clearly she was an addiction I couldn’t shake, and more than that, I didn’t want to anymore. “What’s next on your list of late-night Boston spots?”

  “The Skywalk Observatory, but—”

  “Let’s get out of here and go there.” I grabbed her hand. “I don’t want to be around everyone. I just want to be around you.”

  Megan kicked at the carpet, her gaze fixed on the motion.

  “Please. I swear it’s not a booty call. Even if you beg me, I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”

  She looked up and tilted her head, doubt written all over her pretty face, and I couldn’t help it. I closed the tiny gap between us and kissed her. At first, she remained stiff, her arms still crossed, but as I teased her lips open with my tongue, she gripped my arms and sank into me.

  In the back of my mind, pesky, rational thoughts screamed at me. There were a lot of people here, including her brother, and if he didn’t witness it himself, he’d probably hear about it.

  But with my lips against hers, her familiar scent invading my senses, I was too happy to care.