She didn’t want to think about him, but he lingered. More than any other guy in recent history. She was definitely going to find a way to kiss him again. She could be just as determined as him.
Ben shot down the ice, the cool air on his face, the puck on his stick. He’d never get enough of being out here. Doing what he’d loved since he was old enough to toddle across the ice toward his dad when he was three. The roar of the crowd disappeared as he honed in his focus on the net, deking around one of Anaheim’s top defensemen, before shooting it toward the back of the net, aiming high blocker side, the goalie’s weak spot, but it banged off the pipes, the clang ringing in Ben’s ears.
Harty grabbed the rebound and knocked it between the goalie’s legs. The arena exploded, the music cranked, and the crowd rose to their feet. Exhilaration shot through Ben as the guys barreled into a group hug and he patted each teammate on their helmets.
“Great shot, man,” Baz, team prankster and one of the best defensemen in the league shouted out, his grin wide, teeth missing. “Glad to see you got your shit together and got your good luck charm back.”
“I swear, I’m stowing her on the plane for our away games,” Ethan, known to his teammates as Harty, said with a laugh, then looked into the stands at his girlfriend, Penny.
Ben couldn’t fault the idea. They won when Penny was there. Well, most of the time. Or maybe Harty just focused more. Whatever it was, it worked. And hockey players were superstitious as hell. But superstitions were part of the routine. He preferred to think of them as quirks. He was just glad that most of his weren’t out there for the world to see. He liked to keep things close to the vest.
“We’ll take her,” Baz chimed in, cutting through Ben’s thoughts as they skated past their teammates, tapping gloves, before they slid onto the bench to wait for their next shift.
Ben looked up into the crowd. Not that he wanted to seek out Penny, or the woman sitting next to her. The woman he’d made an ass out of himself in front of last month. Amanda. With her perfectly petite body that he wanted to cradle against his, and her blue-gray eyes filled with pure mischief. She was trouble and should be avoided, but he wanted her.
He hadn’t felt this strong a need in years, and he ached to kiss her again. Not that she’d requested he push her up against her front door like he was slamming a guy into the boards, but she hadn’t balked. Hell, Ben was pretty sure she’d loved it.
But he’d panicked, pulling away and apologizing profusely before stumbling down her front steps and escaping to his car. Captain Smooth. Yet he couldn’t forget her hand brushing her probably bruised lips as she leaned against her door, under the light, when he’d pulled away from her house.
Definitely not his most shining moment. And it didn’t explain why he had the overwhelming urge to do it again. But without the running away part.
He didn’t have time for distractions, and Amanda was a big, blinking light of distraction. Getting into trouble with her sounded way too appealing right now.
She tied him up in knots. That kiss had been such a bad idea, as was the bumbling awkwardness that followed. He never should’ve kissed her. She’d shot him a small wave during warm-ups, and he’d almost tripped over his skate. Freaking knots.
“You gonna move?” Harty asked, nudging Ben, and Ben shook his head, sliding over to the right.
Damn, she was messing with his head. He had a game to win. A team to bolster. It was early February and the season was racing to the end. They were playing great in the back end of the season, and they needed to continue on that track. Making it to the post season was a start, since they hadn’t done so in years. Losing first round in the playoffs last year sucked.
They were in playoff contention right now, and Ben was determined to remain solidly in the top three spots of the division. Currently they were swapping places back and forth with Anaheim, between the third spot and the first wild card.
Tonight they were playing Anaheim, and he refused to switch places in the standings with them again. They were up two-one in the beginning of the third. He was determined for Anaheim to walk away with no points tonight, especially since the Strikers play Pittsburgh next, one of the top teams in the league. Anaheim will face Colorado, who were currently hovering in last place. But every team had to win some games.
Ben shook his head, now he was rooting for Colorado?
The goal horn sounded, and it wasn’t the Strikers’ cheer that followed. His head shot up just in time to see the Anaheim players crash into each other in a hug, while their remaining teammates banged their sticks on the outside of their bench.
Shit.
How had he missed that? His focus was off tonight, and he was placing the blame solely on those petite shoulders and that neck he ached to nibble on. And those lips he wanted to taste again.
He shook his head, and watched the goal on the jumbotron. Anaheim had snagged the puck from Westy and scored on a breakaway. Gally, the Strikers’ goalie, never had a chance. Westy was currently up from the minors and centering the fourth line. And that line needed some work. With guys switching in and out from their minor league team, the line lacked the cohesion needed to put up points.
Some guys couldn’t make the jump to the big show, but Ben caught the spark in Westy’s eyes at practice. The guy had the skill to play with the Strikers, he just needed more confidence in his game.
As the TV timeout started and their coach barked at them to listen up, Ben tapped Westy’s helmet.
“Happens to the best of us,” Ben said.
“Fucking sucks,” the kid muttered.
“Yeah. But this game isn’t over yet.” Ben shot Westy a smile. Maybe he’d take some time with the kid after practice to work on stick handling. “If you have time after practice tomorrow, we can go over a few things.”
The kid’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Of course. Extra practice never hurt anyone. I have some stuff of my own to work on,” he said.
“Cheesy, if you’re done having your moment, how about you focus on the board,” Rob Malone, known as Bugsy, and the current Strikers’ coach, called out.
Ben caught the approval in his coach’s eyes before Bugsy pointed back to the whiteboard.
They had fifteen minutes to score another goal. Totally doable, as long as Anaheim didn’t get another past Gally.
When the final buzzer sounded, they were still tied at two apiece and headed into overtime. Not the scenario Ben wanted, but as they headed into three-on-three overtime, with Baz on his left and Harty on his right, Ben refused to give Anaheim the extra point.
He won the face-off, sending the puck back to Harty with Anaheim on their tail as they headed toward the net. Harty shot it just wide, and Anaheim’s top center grabbed it, skating back down toward Gally. It rang off the pipes and Ben snagged it. He was running out of steam, but he sped down the ice, the puck on his stick, his sole focus on the goalie. He made a move to go glove side and as soon as the goalie nudged his shoulder up, Ben shot it between the guy’s legs.
The goal horn blared and the crowd roared, as his teammates hopped over the boards and flooded the ice, barreling into him and crashing into the boards in a massive group hug. Ben would never get over the thrill of each goal. The excitement of every single one of his teammates as they won in front of their hometown fans.
Nothing in the world was better than hockey. And he would not look up into the stands and catch Amanda jumping up and down and clapping in front of her seat.
Dammit. Why was she so freaking adorable?
Yep. He was definitely in trouble.
Chapter 2
Traveling as a solo female can be tricky. Don’t trust before you should. Caution is key. It’s not about holding yourself back. It’s about being safe in order to have the best experience possible.
~ Adventurous Amanda, September 2011
“Did you update the blog today? Who’s on my lunch schedule? Did you book my hotel in San Diego? Second floor, facing the pool.
And they have a spa, right? And this coffee is too sweet. I said a sprinkle of stevia, not a clump of sugar,” Betsy called out in rapid-fire, and Amanda didn’t miss her boss’s shudder at the word sugar. Betsy was currently steering clear of the sweet goodness, and it made her extra dragony. Luckily, Betsy’s diets changed as rapidly as her mood swings—which probably had something to do with her fad diets to begin with.
Amanda was waiting out the current storm and trying not to do a happy dance at the thought of two days of freedom next week while Betsy was out of town, a long weekend vacation. It was a vacation for both of them.
“I updated the blog this morning. That latest article about how to get perfect selfie skin is trending on Facebook and Twitter. You are booked facing the pool on the second floor for three nights, starting Sunday, and I can send you a link to the spa services they offer. And your coffee has the barest of stevia sprinkles. You know they say that when you cut out sugar entirely, even a little sugar or sugar replacement can taste sweeter,” Amanda said, from Betsy’s office door.
“Fine. But it’s too sweet,” Betsy said, as she polished it off. Apparently not too sweet.
Amanda had never been a fan of fad diets. Of course, her naturally petite figure helped, but depriving yourself of something entirely was never a good plan.
“I sent you Molly’s articles for next month’s issue. Looks like they need some work,” Betsy said.
“Of course.”
“And you’ll have your first article to me by tomorrow, end of business.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. It’s almost done. I think you’re really going to like it.”
“Sure, sure. Just get me your revisions on Molly’s articles by lunch. I’m thinking salmon salad today. Just no sugar,” Betsy said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. Amanda shut the door and slid into her chair just outside of Betsy’s office.
When she’d taken this job eighteen months ago, the description had been deceptive. She’d gone in hoping for more on the editorial side, less on the assistant, but she’d been wrong, and it was stifling. Grabbing coffee and booking travel for someone else had not been on her list of life goals, but she had her foot in the door, and she was staying planted. For now.
And yes, she managed the magazine’s online content, but she wanted to be a staff writer. A staff travel writer. And if it took getting sugar-free coffee, while writing a few articles here and there, it was a start.
Traveling all over the globe had been amazing. If she’d promoted her blog more, pushed for affiliates and ad space, she could’ve gotten by with a little more money. Although she wasn’t going to knock the creature comforts now that she was home. There was a lot to be said for indoor plumbing and hot water. She’d really scrimped by on the last two trips before she’d come home. She’d loved exploring other countries, but tent living wasn’t for her and squatting with friends she’d met over the years definitely had an expiration date.
She’d packed her few bags and came home, with plans to hit the road again sooner rather than later. And luckily, thanks to a few connections and an internship she’d had in college, she’d landed at San Francisco Life magazine. Her online presence had helped, too. She had a lot of followers that now subscribed to the magazine and Amanda was sure that it was one of the reasons they had her managing the online content.
Now she just had to figure out how to move from coffee grabber to travel writer and get the hell out of the country. Hell, she’d settle for getting out of the state.
“Just somewhere,” she muttered, opening up the file Betsy had sent her. Molly was their staff food critic, and she’d been slacking recently. Amanda scanned the article, making a few general notes, before settling in with her online red pen. At least she was using her English degree for something.
***
“Are you ready for some hockey?” Penny stated, with way too much enthusiasm, when she opened the door that night.
Amanda bit back her laugh. “You know they can’t see you so why are you decked out in gear?”
“I always wear my jersey when I watch the game. Doesn’t matter where I am. And look, it’s a new one,” she said, spinning around.
HARTY’S HEART spread across her shoulders, with Ethan’s number below.
“Isn’t it awesome? He gave it to me right before he left yesterday,” Penny said, when she faced Amanda again, her eyes bright.
“So awesome,” Amanda repeated, following Penny into the house. Amanda was truly happy for her friend. And happy that Penny and Ethan were back on solid ground. This time for good. Amanda was sure of it.
“Chinese food should be here any minute. And don’t worry, I got you an extra egg roll,” Penny said with a shudder, and Amanda laughed.
“You should try vegetables. They’re actually pretty tasty wrapped up and fried,” Amanda said, with a smirk.
“You always say that, but I’ll pass. How’s the article going?”
“Not bad. Due tomorrow. The focus is mainly on hockey since that’s the only team still playing right now.”
“Well, then it’s the perfect time to do the article because baseball is so boring to watch. Although I do remember going to a game as a kid and they had great snacks.” Penny paused. “Come to think of it, they all have great snacks. I should’ve become a sports fan ages ago. You know, just for the carbs.”
Amanda chuckled. “Maybe that’s what I should title my article. Come for the thrill of the game and the joy of the carbs.”
Penny snorted as she steered them toward the couch, glasses of wine in hand.
“Bet that tagline would get a lot of traffic.”
“That is what Betsy wants,” Amanda muttered.
“So, how’s that going?”
“Annoying. I’m hoping with this series of articles, she’ll let me write more. Then I just need one of the travel writers to quit. Or I need to win the lottery and get out of the country for a while. I miss being out there. Trying new things. Even exotic vegetables.” She shot Penny a grin.
“Very funny. I eat lettuce.”
Amanda’s shoulders shook. “Guess that’s a start.”
“Something will work out. But in the meantime, it’s great having you home. I missed my bestie when you were gallivanting around the globe,” Penny said.
“I missed you, too, but Peru would’ve been lovely this time of year,” she said.
“You’ve been to so many amazing places. I need to travel more. When the season is over, Ethan is taking me away for a month. A freaking month. Can you believe it? I’m a little nervous to be away from my business for that long, but he says it’s one of the perks of opening my own business, and tax season will be over by then. He gave me a list of reasons why we should go.”
“Of course he did, and that is why you are perfect for each other,” Amanda said. Penny’s love of lists was well-known and that Ethan encouraged it was adorable.
“We are, right? And I’m moving into his place next month. Is that too fast? I feel like it’s too fast, that I need to sit down and—”
“Make a list?” Amanda cut in. “Stop over-thinking. You both love each other and he gets you.”
“He does, right?” Penny’s voice took on a dreamy quality, and Amanda laughed softly. “He’s the best.”
***
“Get your head in the game, Harty. How could you let that second-rate rookie steal the puck?” Penny shouted an hour later when a Calgary forward skated up the ice toward the Strikers’ goalie, the stolen puck on his stick.
Amanda was getting better at following the game. She refused to admit to Penny that she’d watched all of the Strikers’ games since Penny had dragged her to her first game a few months ago. It would just lead to questions, and God love her, Penny asked a lot of questions.
And it’s not like Amanda was completely focused on Ben whenever he was on camera. Well, not totally. Maybe mostly completely. She bit back a snort. That wasn’t even a phrase. And she also didn’t think about when s
he was going to see him again.
Nope. Not at all.
She and Penny polished off their dinner and were at the edge of their sofa seats as the Strikers tried to beat back Calgary, who were currently up three to one at the beginning of the second period.
Ben was on the ice right alongside Ethan. His legs pumping as he chased down the puck. Too bad she couldn’t see his ass in those padded shorts, but it was amazing in his tailored suit pants. She’d resisted the urge to cup it when he’d kissed her. Not that she’d had much time to do anything when he’d planted that kiss on her. Hell, she wanted to do that again.
“Let’s go, Cheese. You can do it,” she shouted before she could stop herself, and she caught Penny staring at her out of the corner of her eye. “And Harty, too. Come on boys,” she trailed off, attempting to ignore Penny’s grin. “What? Just rooting for the hometown team.”
“Yeah?” Penny eyed her.
“Yep.” She hadn’t told her friends about the kiss. It’d been a whole mix of awkward, hot, and confusing, especially when he’d bailed faster than he skated down the ice on a breakaway. Wow. Now she was using hockey terminology. She was sunk.
Plus, she didn’t want her comments to get back to him. Not that Penny would necessarily tell Ethan, but it wasn’t worth the risk. That kiss had shocked her to her toes and she wanted to repeat it, but she was nervous.
Amanda Pearsall was never nervous. She ate nerves for breakfast. Okay. Maybe that’s a little extreme. And thinking in the third person wasn’t weird or anything. She bit back a snort.
Hell. He was throwing her off her game and she wouldn’t mind being thrown. She hadn’t gone out on a date with anyone in months and that was definitely not typical. Not that she was screwing her way through the San Francisco area, but there was nothing wrong with a healthy sex life, and a few months dry spell was not standard.
Maybe that’s what she needed. To find some guy to take out her frustrations on and then she could get back to normal and stop thinking about Ben’s magnificent ass. Seriously, he must have to get everything tailored to hug that beautiful bubble.
Skating the Line (San Francisco Strikers Book 2) Page 2