ICED (Boston Terriers Hockey Book 2)

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ICED (Boston Terriers Hockey Book 2) Page 1

by Jacob Chance




  ICED

  Boston Terriers Hockey #2

  Jacob Chance

  Copyright © 2019 Jacob Chance

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This novel is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people either living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are only used for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  Cover design by PopKitty Designs

  Edited by Shauna Stevenson from Ink Machine Editing

  This book contains mature content.

  "Hockey players have fire in their hearts and ice in their veins."

  UNKNOWN AUTHOR

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  10. Chapter Ten

  11. Chapter Eleven

  12. Chapter Twelve

  13. Chapter Thirteen

  14. Chapter Fourteen

  15. Chapter Fifteen

  16. Chapter Sixteen

  17. Chapter Seventeen

  18. Chapter Eighteen

  19. Chapter Nineteen

  20. Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  CHECKED

  Chapter One

  Coming Soon

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Ava

  Three years ago

  I stare enviously at the couple walking in front of me. His thickly muscled arm around her shoulders draws her closer. Dark, shaggy hair falls over his forehead as he leans down to nuzzle her ear. She giggles and he smiles, his straight, white teeth a bright flash against his tan skin and the dark stubble shading his jaw.

  Oliver Ice is Boston University’s starting right winger on the hockey team, and the object of my crush. He’s perfect—at least from what I’ve observed my first week of college. From the moment I set eyes on him, I’ve had an ongoing fantasy that he’ll notice me and forget all about his girlfriend, Stacey.

  Hey, a girl can dream.

  Stopping at the catering truck parked in front of the Hamilton Building, where my next class takes place, my eyes follow Oliver as he walks inside.

  “Can I help you?”

  My head snaps forward. “Oh, sorry. One piece of pepperoni pizza, please.” I hand off the money.

  He holds out a slice on a sheet of aluminum foil and I sigh in pleasure as I breathe in the delicious scent.

  Thursdays are my busiest day, so there’s no time to eat unless I squeeze it in before my next class in fifteen minutes. Walking briskly, I enter the brick building and hurry down the long hallway. Rounding the corner, I slam into a brick wall. Or maybe it’s a train. Whatever it is, I end up on my rear end with my pizza stuck dead center in the middle of my white shirt.

  Teeth gritting, I peel the triangle from the cotton. Fuck. With my lack of laundry skills this shirt will never be the same.

  “Oh shit. I’m so sorry.” A deep voice interrupts.

  My head slowly raises and my mouth opens in horror when I see Oliver standing there.

  “I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he explains. “Here, let me help you up.” He grips both my arms, effortlessly raising me to my feet and smiles ruefully as he looks me over. “You’re okay, right?”

  I nod, unable to speak. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s standing in front of me like I’ve imagined since school began, or if it’s because I know I smell like pepperoni.

  His large hands release their hold on my arms and he takes a step back. “I’m sorry again,” he calls out, spinning around to rush down the hallway in the other direction.

  “God forbid you keep Stacey waiting,” I grumble under my breath and roll my eyes. So much for Oliver taking one look at me and realizing I was the girl for him. I may not have caught his attention, but my pizza landed on me, not the floor, therefore it’s still edible. Shrugging, I raise the slice to my lips, biting off the point.

  Chapter One

  Oliver

  Present Day

  I pop the caps off two bottles of beer, setting them down on the bar in front of my friends. “What brings you guys here on a Monday?”

  Nolan tips his head toward the stage. “Perri’s dancing tonight.”

  I grin. “I should’ve known that’s the reason. That’s the only time I see you.” Nolan makes it in as often as he can when his girl is working. But being the starting running back on Boston University’s football team doesn’t leave as much free time as he’d like. Even though we live in the same frat house, we play different sports and often go days without crossing paths.

  He shrugs. “What can I say? I can’t get enough of watching her up there. She’s amazing.”

  Clancy playfully shoves Nolan’s arm. “Such a sap.”

  “Like you’re not just as pathetic,” I cut in, referring to his relationship with his girlfriend, Tenley. None of us ever thought we’d see the day the ‘Wilde Man’ would be tamed, but it’s happened. And judging by the satisfied smirk on his face, Clancy has zero regrets.

  “I’m just fucking with Nolan. In reality, he owes his relationship with Perri to me. After all, I did push the two of them together.” Clancy turns toward Nolan. “So, I’m basically responsible for your happiness. You’re welcome.”

  “Is that how you see it?” Nolan grins, raising the bottle to his lips for a deep pull. “I don’t know that auctioning off my virginity was your best idea. But you may have been the catalyst to get us to admit our feelings. I’ll give you that much.”

  Clancy winks. “And I’ll take it.”

  I lean my forearms on the bar. “So, you never get annoyed that other guys are watching Perri dance?”

  “Yes and no. It’s not like she’s stripping and they’re seeing her naked at some titty bar. Score is more upscale,” Nolan mentions the club where I’m currently bartending. “And she’s doing aerial and modern dance routines. I don’t think college-aged guys are going to pick this over a strip club.”

  Clancy chuckles. “If you remember, I was the one who brought you here for the first time last year, and we were in college.” He taps Nolan on the arm with the back of his hand. “And you still are. Clearly, there’s a hole in your theory.”

  “Maybe. But I don’t want to think about it too much,” Nolan admits.

  My eyes sweep to the stage where a group of female dancers are performing. “I think I’d still get annoyed if it was my girl up there. Even if she’s a professional dancer and people are paying a pretty penny to watch. The outfits they wear are pretty revealing and guys are going to look. Hell, I’m guilty of it.”

  Nolan scowls. “Are you saying you’re checking Perri out when she’s on stage?”

  I point to his angry face. “So much for not getting annoyed. And no, Perri’s like a sister
to me. I’m definitely not checking her out.”

  More customers slide onto the bar stools, keeping me occupied with their steady stream of drink orders. And the waitstaff steadily type their orders in the computer. By the time I make it back to the guys, Perri has finished dancing for the night and is standing beside Nolan.

  “Perri, how’s it going?” I ask.

  “No complaints. It’s busy tonight for the middle of the week. You’re going to make a killing from tips.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Dude, it’s not like you need to bring in the same amount of money you used to. Living at the frat is a lot cheaper than renting an apartment,” Clancy offers.

  “Definitely. But I’m trying to save up for the rest of the school year. My parents weren’t planning on having to pay for a fifth year of college for me. And I can’t live in the frat forever.” Unfortunately, I let the demise of my relationship get in the way of my grades. And now, I need more credits to graduate in the spring. I guess a year late is better than never.

  “Right. And with me gone from there it’s not as much fun.” Clancy grins.

  Nolan laughs. “It’s definitely not as clean as it was. But I like your room better than my old one. So, thanks for that.”

  “You finally made it out of the basement.” Clancy holds his hand up for a high five and their palms slap together with a loud crack.

  “Hey, I kind of liked it down there. It was more private.” Perri leans her head on Nolan’s shoulder. “We didn’t have to worry about anyone listening in when we were…” she pauses. “Or hearing anyone else when they were…”

  “Screwing. There, I said it for you.” I hold my fist out for her to bump.

  “Yeah, but it’s freezing in the winter. Getting up to take a piss in the morning is no joke.” Nolan shivers at the memories.

  “Tell me about it,” I say. “I’m not looking forward to dealing with that again this winter.”

  “You didn’t move in until the end of February. The worst of the winter was over. Wait until you realize how bad it gets.”

  “Excellent,” I droll. “For now, I’ll be grateful for how cool it stays during the warmer months.”

  Our conversation is interrupted when a group of guys circles Clancy, asking for his autograph. Even with his baseball cap pulled low over his face, he’s recognizable. He’d have to shave off his long blond hair for any real anonymity, and that’s not happening. I think he’s convinced his hockey skills would suffer without it. He thinks he’s Sampson or something.

  We all wondered if he’d still hang with us when he made it to the pros. But regardless of playing for the Bruins or Boston University, Clancy is the same person he’s always been.

  My gaze drifts to the stage where a lone female dances. Her long, chocolate brown hair is held back by a sparkling blue band across the top of her head. Her body, though leanly muscled, is still gently curved in all the right places. She’s beautiful. And new at Score. I’d remember if I had seen her before.

  Moving fluidly across the stage, her hips roll sensually to the slow piece of music. I feel like a voyeur, watching something I shouldn’t be. As if this is a private moment meant for her lover’s eyes only.

  What would it be like to have her dance like this for me? My body reacts to the thought with my heartbeat kicking up a notch and the blood flow increasing to my groin.

  Down boy.

  Now is not the time to get a hard-on. At least the bar blocks anyone from noticing, but I still know it’s happening. And after seven months without my ex, I’m still not ready to dip my toe in the dating pool, or my dick in another girl. Stacey did a number on my head… and my heart. I thought I’d be completely over what happened by now, but I’m not.

  I may never be.

  How do you get over loving and being totally devoted to someone and catching them with another person?

  The images of them kissing still bombard my mind when I least expect it. Like now. The girl dancing on the stage has stirred my interest and Stacey put an end to it without even being here. I bet she’d love to know the power she still has over me.

  “I gotta say, being back in school sucks big balls,” Shaw announces, gliding over.

  “You’d know all about sucking big balls,” Donovan retorts, ducking when Shaw tries to cuff him upside the head.

  “I have to agree. I’m buried under work and we just started. I think I got every asshole professor this semester.” I tug my helmet on and fasten the chin strap.

  “Maybe Stacey knows someone in admin. Giving you shit professors could be her parting shot,” Shaw theorizes.

  “Dude, don’t be paranoid. Besides, I’m not sure why she’d be mad at me. I wasn’t the one who cheated.”

  Shaw angles his head my way. “You broke up with her. That’s reason enough. In her mind she’s the wounded party.”

  “Was I supposed to stick around after I found out she was with someone else?”

  “Of course. She doesn’t want you to be okay without her,” Donovan chimes in with his two cents.

  Am I okay without her? That’s the million dollar question. I guess I’m getting there. I feel a little better with each day that passes. Time really is the great healer of heartbreak. As much as I wish there were, there’s no quick fix.

  Coach blows his whistle, gaining our attention.

  “Guys, we’re going to warm up today with the three pucks, stick handling drill. Get in two lines and start.”

  I stand on the face-off circle at the end of the rink and Donovan lines up at the other end on the one diagonally across from me.

  Our two assistant coaches drop three pucks in front of me and skate down to do the same in front of Donovan. Coach immediately blows his whistle.

  Moving forward, I keep all three pucks in motion. Taking one puck, I place it between two others, constantly shifting their positions on the ice in front of me. This drill is relatively easy, but it does take focus. You’re moving your hands and feet all at once, while using your mind too. It’s a great way to speed up your hands and train yourself to think about more than one thing at a time.

  Staying on my inside edges, I work quickly until I reach the other end of the rink. Passing off the pucks to Shaw, my waiting teammate, I watch as he executes the drill to the best of his ability.

  It’s not long before we’ve all completed the drill a few more times and coach has us moving on to handling four and five pucks at a time. We do this every year for the first month of hockey practices. A lot of the guys despise doing these drills, but they do help. And always improving needs to be at the top of every hockey player’s to-do list. Who wants to remain stagnant and never get any better?

  Sinking down onto the couch, a groan slips from my lips.

  “My legs are fucking killing me.” Donovan’s words echo my exact thoughts.

  “Tell me about it. When he said we were doing puck handling drills, I didn’t realize he meant only for the first half hour. The last ninety minutes of full out sprints nearly crippled me. By the end of the practice I wasn’t sure which was burning more, my lungs or my legs.”

  “I’ll never complain about him going too easy on us again,” Donovan promises.

  Shaw laughs as he falls onto the other end of the couch. “My legs gave out. I might have to sleep here tonight. I don’t know if I can make it up the stairs.”

  “What do you guys say we order some pizzas and just relax? We don’t have any parties on tap and I got most of my studying done earlier today.”

  “I’m game.” Donovan gives me a thumbs up.

  “Sounds good. But who’s going to pick up the pizzas?” Shaw jokes.

  “Clancy gave me his contact’s info. I can get it delivered directly to us.”

  “Hell yes. Will he bring beer too?” Donovan questions.

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

  An hour later, eight boxes of pizza are stacked on the coffee table and the three of us are doing our best to demolish th
em along with the twelve pack of beer that also got delivered.

  “This is going a long way toward making me forget about how horrible today’s practice was,” Shaw jests.

  “Right? Who knew that pepperoni had such healing powers?” Donovan adds.

  “You should try the bacon.” I groan. “Then again, no you shouldn’t. I think I need to eat this whole damn pie for the full effect.”

  “What’s going on this weekend? Are we having a party or what?” Shaw questions.

  Marshall, the new frat president mentioned we should, but it makes no difference to me if we do or don’t. I shrug and reply, “We don’t have a game this weekend.”

  “So, maybe we should make the most of it. It might be nice to be able to have a few beers and not worry about being game ready,” Donovan points out.

  I tip my bottle in his direction. “That’s true. I’m not crazy about the number of people who show up to our parties, but it might be our last opportunity to really cut loose for a while.”

  Chapter Two

  Ava

  “Wow, you look stunning,” Perri compliments my pale blue dress. My hands smooth over the leotard and long chiffon skirt that hug my torso and hips. I love the simplicity of this design. My dance routine is what I always want the audience to notice, not what I’m wearing. But this costume makes me feel pretty.

 

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