Making the Cut--Hockey Sports Romance

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Making the Cut--Hockey Sports Romance Page 1

by Jenna Payne




  Making the Cut

  Hockey Sports Romance

  By: Jenna Payne

  © Copyright 2018 by Jenna Payne

  All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  ***

  Also by Jenna Payne

  Eve’s Pleasure - MFM Threesome Romance

  In a League of His Own - A Bad Boy Football Romance

  The Fireman’s Flame - MFM Menage Romance

  Three of a Kind Desires - Billionaire Threesome Romance

  After Hours - MC Biker Romance

  Curating a Billionaire - Love Triangle Romance

  Envy - MMF Menage Romance

  Her Mafia Landlord - Bad Boy Mafia Romance

  Out of Bounds - Office Secretary Boss Romance

  Taming the Billionaire’s Heart - Billionaire Menage Romance

  The Choice - Billionaire Menage Romance

  Falling Hard For Him - Football Sports Romance

  Her Home Run Desires - Sports Menage Romance

  Making the Cut - Hockey Sports Romance

  Stormy Love - Sports Menage Romance

  Touchdown Desires - Sports Menage Romance

  Love Triangle - Lesbian FFF Menage Romance

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Jenna Payne

  Making the Cut - Hockey Sports Romance

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

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  Further Reading: His Lucky Charm - Baseball Romance

  Also By Jenna Payne

  Making the Cut

  Chapter 1

  Vienna Rhett stepped out onto the ice early Monday morning, watching the Zamboni as it bounced down the ramp and out the door. The tiny ice rink’s sound system was still shot, so Vienna was forced to clip her micro MP3 player inside her costume to practice. She threaded the plug of her earbuds through her tight braid and plugged it in, hoping that her first axel wouldn’t send them flying.

  She stretched her arms over her head and behind her, glancing down at her well-worn skates to make sure they were tied tight. The ice was like glass, freshly shaved and watered. There was nothing Vienna liked better than being the first to hit the ice.

  Pushing play, she got into place and waited for the music to start. Vienna flowed through her program with ease, sticking all her landings and pushing herself to go beyond the minimum requirements. If a double was required, she threw in a triple. She followed her triple toe loop with an immediate triple Salchow.

  The music played on, and Vienna swayed gracefully to the piece. Her final movement was a spin series that started with the layback and ended with an elegant sit spin that she’d perfected the week before. As she prepared for the movement, she smiled broadly.

  The World Championships qualifier was at the end of the week, and Vienna had never felt so ready for anything in her life. If she could skate half as well at the competition as she did on her home ice, she’d make it in with no problem.

  She swung into her layback spin, reaching back and grabbing the blade of one skate behind her head to up the difficulty level. A flash of red sped by her, startling her and making her lose her balance. She stumbled out of the spin and face-planted on the ice roughly.

  Vienna sat up, looking around the rink and trying to find the culprit. A man in jeans and a loose red hockey jersey was skating around the edge of the ice, practicing his foot work while chasing a puck and tearing up her fresh ice.

  “Hey!” she shouted, still pulling herself from the ice and groaning at her skinned knee.

  The man turned, skating backwards and looking at her without a hint of remorse for what he’d done. He continued around the rink’s edge, twisting and spinning in little hops, his clunky skates chipping the ice up and ruining her smooth surface.

  Vienna’s face colored and she stood, skating so that she met him halfway around the rink.

  “I’m talking to you,” she shouted.

  “Yes?”

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Practicing. What does it look like?”

  “It looks like you’re tearing up my ice.”

  “Your ice?” He laughed, blue eyes twinkling merrily, “This is a public rink. This ice belongs to no one.”

  “I rented this time slot and for the next two hours. That door was supposed to be locked.”

  “It was locked. But everyone who lives in Chehalis knows that all it needs is a good yank and it opens right up.”

  His smile was wide and friendly. Sandy blond hair peeked out from beneath his helmet. Vienna could see that he thought he was quite charming.

  “That doesn’t make it alright. I rented this time and you need to leave. You’re ruining my ice. And you knocked me over.”

  “I wouldn’t have been that close to you if you’d been in the center where figure skaters belong.”

  “I rented the ice! The entire thing! I belong wherever my program takes me. This isn’t open skate at the mall. I’m a serious competitor and I’m preparing for a competition.”

  “Me too,” he said. He held out his hand and offered it for her to shake.

  “My name is Ethan Hayes. It’s nice to meet you, Miss...”

  “I’m not here to make friends. Now please leave.”

  “No. I won’t be leaving.”

  “Why the heck not?”

  Vienna was starting to get angry.

  Ethan shrugged.

  “Because I don’t have a ride. My friend dropped me off and left. He won’t be back for at least an hour.”

  “Great. So you’re incapable of leaving a locked door alone and you’re too irresponsible to own your own car at your age? You’re just a big bowl of wonderful, aren’t you?”

  Vienna smiled. He was wasting her time, but she was enjoying herself now. This guy Ethan was a loser, plain and simple. She’d put him in his place and send him running home, crying for his mother. That would teach him to butt into her practice time.

  “It’s my car. My buddy was in a wreck and I told him he could use my car to get groceries. I’m super responsible. I even have a full time job and everything.”

  When he smiled this time, Vienna had to fight the urge to slap the grin off of his face. He was irritating, meeting her anger with a careless smile that showed no regard for the time that he was wasting. She didn’t have time to play with some hockey hopeful that would never make the pros. He was destined to waste the rest of his life going after a dream he would never achieve. Vienna didn’t have time for that, and heaven knew she didn’t have the patience.

  “Look, it’s nice that you have a car.”

  “Not a nice car like you though. Is the Jaguar yours?”

  “Of course it’s mine. Do you see anyone else here? No what I was saying was-”

  “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

  “Quit interrupting me. What’s wrong with you? Do you always act this way?”

  “No,” he smiled again. “I’m u
sually much worse. But I like to tone it down for pretty ladies such as yourself.”

  Vienna rolled her eyes.

  “Gag me.”

  “I could,” he winked.

  “Oh dear lord what is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing that a kiss from you couldn’t fix.”

  He laughed as he skated away, ignoring her as she cursed his back. He continued his practice as if he hadn’t a care in the world, completely ignoring the fact that the rink was paid for, for the next two hours.

  Vienna threw her hands up, grumbling to herself as she skated off the ice. She was going to have a word with the manager and make sure this Ethan Hayes was banned for life. If he couldn’t be considerate and share the ice, then he had no business being there anyway.

  Satisfied that she would get another time allotted and eager to ice her knee, she pulled on her tennis shoes and grabbed her cellphone out of her purse. She’d be back tomorrow.

  Chapter 2

  It was before six the next morning when Vienna parked her silver Jaguar in the lot. She was happy to see that only Dave the Zamboni driver’s car was around. She had no intention of a repeat of the day before and dealing with the oafish Ethan Hayes. Sure, he was sexy and he had a handsome smile that would melt even the most stoic woman. But his personality had driven Vienna to the brink of insanity in mere minutes. Arrogant, rude and self-serving, he wasn’t the type of guy Vienna would consider spending a week with, let alone the rest of her life. Maybe there were women out there that thought he was charming, but Vienna was not one of them.

  Dave had finished the ice before she’d pulled up and she could see him in the crow’s nest, sipping on his morning coffee. She held up a hand in greeting and he waved back.

  Vienna warmed up, earbuds already shoved in her ears, her playlists drowning everything around her out so she could focus. She’d run out of the house in a hurry, eager to get to the rink before it opened at eight. She’d left her long, chocolate locks loose, springy curls radiating from her face wildly. Her Irish mother’s side had given her dark brown locks a reddish glow and dark green eyes. It had also cursed her with a splash of freckles across her nose that she’d been trying to hide for most of her life. When she hit her twenties, she decided that they weren’t all that bad and stopped trying to cover them up. Someone had even told her that they were cute. She wasn’t sure that she would go that far, but they were a part of her, and she decided to embrace them a few years back.

  The manager had promised to deal with Ethan and had applied her money to another private session later in the week. Then he’d thrown in this morning to sweeten the pot. As obnoxious as Ethan had been, he’d actually been great in the long run. For the price of one two-hour block, Vienna now had four uninterrupted hours this week and another early morning opportunity next week right before the competition.

  Warmed up and ready to go, Vienna ran through her long program first. The cold wind flowed through her hair as she flew around the rink, sticking her landings with ease and flowing effortlessly from one jump to the next.

  Her smile was huge when she nailed the last spin and came to a stop at exactly the same moment as the music.

  “Nailed it!” she said.

  “Yes you did,” someone answered back from the stands, clapping loudly.

  Vienna looked up and couldn’t believe her eyes. Ethan Hayes was walking onto the ice in his sneakers, cellphone in hand, the biggest grin yet on his face.

  “You!” she ground out.

  “Yes, it’s me. I would say hi, but I never got your name.”

  Vienna crossed her arms.

  “Are you completely clueless or do you really have no idea when you’re not welcome?”

  “I’m not on the ice, am I?”

  “Well, no,” Vienna stuttered.

  “There you go. I’m being considerate and waiting my turn.”

  He held the cellphone out to her.

  “What is this?”

  “I videoed your run. You have to see this jump you did. It’s perfect, but I think you could add a little flair to it if you’d move your arms like this.”

  He held up his arms and demonstrated, then handed her the phone so she could watched the video.

  “Thanks for the tip, but I think I’ll keep my arms where they belong,” she said, but she didn’t take her eyes off the screen.

  Ethan had recorded her entire long program, zooming in and out to get the best angle of each element of the routine. He was an expert at capturing the best angle for critiquing her run.

  “There, that jump. If you just did this,” he moved again to demonstrate, “it would look amazing and it would make you stand out from all the other women doing the same exact jump.”

  “You look foolish, you know that right?”

  “Who cares?”

  “I would care.”

  “Life is too short to take yourself too seriously. So what do you think of my idea?”

  “I think it’s stupid. Why would I randomly invent a new move like that?”

  “It’s not new, it’s a fresh take on a played out move that everyone can do.”

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “Wasn’t that your long program?”

  “Yes, so?”

  “Long programs have more freedom for artistic expression, that’s why they’re often called ‘free skate’.”

  Vienna held her hands up to her cheeks in mock surprise.

  “Did you just learn how to use Google to search for stuff that you couldn’t possibly understand? How cute.”

  He laughed, totally ignoring her sarcasm. Was this guy for real?

  “No ma’am. My mother was a figure skater. I learned to spin long before I ever picked up a hockey stick.”

  Vienna arched her eyebrow but didn’t say a word. She was too busy picturing him in figure skates and tights.

  “Now that you know I’m qualified, let’s talk about that jump.”

  Chapter 3

  “You’ve almost got it, come look.”

  Ethan held up the cellphone and Vienna skated over to him. As annoying as Ethan was, Vienna had been intrigued by his idea. But it wasn’t just that. His phone was top of the line, taking clear videos and playing them back on a large screen. And for some reason, he was more than willing to spend over an hour recording Vienna and letting her watch the playback.

  She’d been running through and correcting her short and long programs for an hour when she finally gave in and agreed to try his suggestion. To her surprise, the effect was elegant and eye-catching. And it fell within the rules of the competition. Now she was eagerly retrying the move over and over again, rushing back to where Ethan stood on the ice to check her progress.

  “I’m getting tired,” she admitted.

  “I think once more and you’ll have it.”

  Vienna nodded. She agreed with him. That, and she was much too tired to argue with him.

  Vienna circled the lower half of the rink, building up speed and attacking the jump one last time. She flung herself into the air with wild abandon and executed the modified jump perfectly.

  She knew before her toe touched the ice that she had over rotated, and she prepared herself for a fall. Vienna let herself go limp, leaving her arms in the air as they were and hoping that they landed between her and the ice. Her toe pick made contact with the ice and slipped out from under her, slamming her down with a heavy thud.

  Her cheek connected with the ice, and she felt the sting almost instantly as she slid. She lay on the ice for a moment, cataloguing her injuries before she moved. She did as she always did, starting from the ankles and working up her joints methodically, one section at a time.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. Aside from the spot on her cheek that stung like crazy and smacking her skinned knee again, she was unharmed. She’d be sore when she thawed out later, but stiff was not the same as broken.

  “Are you alright?” Ethan called out to her.

  Even when he thought someone
was hurt there was still a smile on his face. Vienna wasn’t sure if she should laugh or slap him. Of course she was fine. She wasn’t made of porcelain.

  She gave him a thumbs up and pulled herself up. She circled the half rink again, building up speed and locking her eyes on the spot on her orbit where she needed to enter into the jump.

  “What are you doing?” he called out.

  “I have to stick the landing!” she yelled back, going into the corner and lining herself up.

  Ethan fumbled getting the camera rolling, hitting record a split second before her feet left the ice. This time, she took off with less gusto, letting her arms flow into position and trusting physics to spin her. She landed the jump without bobbling and clapped her hands in delight.

  “That was perfect!” Ethan hollered.

  Vienna smiled, skating back to him so she could watch the replay. The smile slid off Ethan’s face as she approached.

  “That’s quite a bruise you’ve got there.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re done for the day, right?”

  “I am. Let me see, please.”

  Ethan handed her the phone and she hit play. She watched the jump, her smile spreading ear to ear. She’d done an excellent job. The voice on the video remarked on her jump and Ethan blushed.

  “I didn’t mean to say anything over your recording.”

  “But did you really think it was beautiful?”

  “I think you’re beautiful, but yes. The jump was beautiful as well.”

  “Did you really just call me beautiful?”

  “I did.”

  “But you don’t even know my name or who I am.”

  “Sure I do. You’re Vienna Rhett. You’re twenty-three and a serious competitor in the figure skating world.”

  “How did you find out my name?”

  She handed him back his phone, wondering if she should be worried. How did he know so much about her?

  “My dad told me last night when he yelled at me for interrupting your session.”

  Vienna groaned.

 

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