Pucking Around: A Why Choose Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 1)
Pucking Around: Chapter 80

Ashutout. Rays win 3-0. The win was hard earned, which is just how I like it. We all had to work together tonight to keep the Kraken from gaining any points. I know I played a great game, but when my team looks good, it makes me look even better.

By the end of the third, the Kraken were rabid dogs. Penalties flew on both sides. They pulled their goalie to gain an extra man, but it didn’t help. Sully scored on the open net with less than a minute left in the game. The buzzer hadn’t even sounded before our fans were already celebrating.

Getting back to the locker room is a blur. Showering is a blur. Somehow, I’ve found myself being shuffled down the hallway towards the press table. The FIHA scouts will be waiting there, the Finnish press. They want to see me, speak to me.

Compton walks just ahead of me, still grinding nails in frustration that Rachel wore my jersey. I’m just as angry. I had to spend the game knowing she was watching my every move. And Caleb was right by her side, taunting me. He kept touching her, his hands brushing over my number at her shoulders, as if he hoped it might rub off.

Impossible. She’s mine.

I don’t know if this is a game they’re playing, but it’s not funny. The last thing I need right now is Compton replaceing a reason to push me out faster. Petty revenge because Rachel wore my jersey seems like enough of a reason.

But I can’t think about that now. The lights flash and pop as we take our places at the table, me on the end, him in the middle, Coach Johnson on his other side.

Jake is in no mood for press, but he’s a professional, answering the first question that asks him about his cutthroat performance. “Yeah, you know, it was about bringing the heat from the first drop of the puck. We wanted the Kraken to fight for it.”

I stop listening, my gaze catching on a few familiar faces in the crowd. Torben Korhonen is standing at my end of the table with a press pass around his neck. He works for the Finnish Liiga. He’s covered me for years here in the U.S. Behind him stand a group of men in European suits. The FIHA reps. They stand so quietly, watching the press event unfold.

Korhonen’s voice hooks my gaze back to him. “This is a question for Kinnunen,” he calls. “May I ask it in Finnish?”

I lean forward, giving him my full attention. “Joo.”

He switches to Finnish, and I feel like I can breathe. “This is your first game in three weeks. Information from the Rays coaching and medical staff has been sparse. Should your fans have concerns about your health?”

Holding his gaze, I answer the question clearly fed to him through the FIHA reps. “If I wasn’t fit to play, I wouldn’t be on the ice. The Rays coaching and medical staff take a deep interest in the overall health and wellness of all their players,” I reply. “I’m grateful to play for a team that puts my health first, focusing on my longevity of play, not merely that I play every game.”

Korhonen nods and the person next to him jumps at the chance to ask her question. Coach leans into his mic, ready to answer. As I sit there, listening to his complicated answer about a possible conference win, Compton goes still as stone next to me. Then he backhands my arm, his gaze locked on something in the crowd. I follow the direction of his gaze.

That’s when I see them. They’ve slipped into the back of the press area using their team IDs. Rachel and Caleb stand together, his arm around her shoulders. My heart races faster as I take her in, my gaze dropping from her gorgeous face down to her shoulders to—

I freeze.

Not my number. The little witch is wearing 42 on her shoulders now. My gaze darts over to Caleb and I see the 31’s on his shoulders. They switched jerseys. The asshole has the gall to blow me a kiss and wave. Rachel slaps his hand down.

I’m going to kill him. I jerk in my chair like I’m about to get up, but Compton’s hand on my arm stills me. Not here, he says wordlessly. Not now. Not in front of the FIHA scouts. I just have to sit and let them tease me.

Why does Compton seem just as upset? He got what he wanted. Rachel is in his jersey now. I glance at him, noting the way he fumes. But his eyes aren’t on her anymore. They’re on Caleb.

I sigh with realization, sitting back in my chair. This is about my jersey. He doesn’t want either of them wearing it. He wants them both for himself. As we watch, the pair of them wave, grins on their faces, and dart away. Compton and I both crane our necks, watching as they disappear. If we weren’t trapped at this press table, we’d be charging after them. Or at least, he would. I don’t know that I’d be welcome to interfere.

The press event drags on, with Compton and I both managing to answer two more questions each. Then our PR rep calls an end to the event and Compton launches to his feet, grabbing me by the arm. “Come on,” he growls.

Korhonen steps forward like he’s about to steal another question, but I don’t even hesitate. Spinning on my heel, I let myself be dragged by Compton back into the tunnels.

“He thinks he’s so fucking funny,” Compton mutters, marching past the security towards our locker room. “I know he put her up to this.”

“She didn’t seem to be protesting,” I add darkly.

“Oh, she will protest,” he huffs. “When I rip them out of those fucking jerseys and spank their asses raw. Come on.”

I go still, eyes wide as I look at his retreating form. I don’t understand what’s happening here. Why is he inviting me to come along? Why isn’t he pushing me away?

When he realizes I’m not following, he spins around. “You broken, Mars? I said let’s go!”

“Go where?”

“Home. I swear to fuck—you gotta drive, man. I’m too big of a mess. I’ll crash the car.”

Home. He wants me to drive him home.

We grab our bags from the locker room and duck out the team entrance into the parking garage. Compton follows at my side, helping himself to the back of my truck as he tosses his gear bag in the back. I do the same, unlocking the doors. We both climb in, engine roaring as I pull out and head towards the exit.

“This was all his idea!” His arms are crossed as his knee bounces in agitation. “I swear to fuck, when we get home, we’re gonna tie him down and blindfold him while we tag team Rachel until she begs for mercy.”

I focus on the road, my hands tight on the wheel. “Blindfold him?”

“Yeah, Cay likes to watch,” he mutters. “Well, let’s see how he likes being in the room and not seeing a damn thing. Add a gag too. I don’t want to hear his dirty talk tonight. I want him on his fucking knees!”

I drive us onto the interstate and Compton pulls out his buzzing phone.

“Oh shit,” he hisses.

“What?”

“It’s Cay. He’s trying to video call me. Fuck!”

We both know there’s only one reason Caleb wants to call using video. “Answer it,” I growl.

The bright lights of downtown fade behind us as we head out the stretch of road towards the beach. Compton presses the green button on his screen and the call connects. “Cay, what the fuck?”

“Hiya!” comes Caleb’s falsely bright voice. “You guys almost home? We’ve been waiting here forever.”

Bullshit. They only had a twenty-minute head start on us at best.

“Cay, don’t fucking do it,” Compton growls.

“Don’t what? Start without you? Too late, pretty boy.”

“Where is he?” I say, trying to keep my eyes on the road. “What’s happening?”

“I think he’s on the stairs.”

“Yep! Just needed to get a few things from downstairs,” comes Caleb’s voice. “Ice, candle, chocolate sauce. I can’t decide what I want to start with. I’m thinking the ice. I bet our girl loves a little temperature play. Gonna rub a cube over her clit and then suck it, warm her right back up, make her moan my name—”

“Fuck!” Compton yells, slamming the door with his fist. “When we get home, your ass is getting tied up in the fucking shower, water on cold!”

Caleb just laughs, because apparently, he has a death wish.

“Oh, no you fucking don’t,” Compton yells. “Cay! That’s my fucking room!”

“Yeah, Hurricane says your bed is the most comfortable. You comfortable, baby?”

I hear her muffled voice and my heart hammers in my chest. I need her like I need air. Need to get to her. I press down on the accelerator, the truck roaring as we drive up and over the long bridge crossing the intercostal waterway.

“Touch her in my bed, and I’ll kick your ass!” Compton shouts. He’s losing control. “Oh—fuck—” His voice is suddenly breathless as he sinks back against the seat.

“What? Compton, what’s happening?”

Slowly, he turns the phone, showing me the screen. My gaze darts right as I look at it, then back to the road. My heart drops from my chest and I have to look again. Rachel is stretched out naked in the middle of his bed, blindfolded, her arms and legs tied down to the four corners.

“Voi helvetti,” I mutter, breathing hard through my nose as I navigate traffic.

“Listen to me, asshole,” Compton barks into the phone. “We’re almost home, and when we get there, you better fuckin’ hide. Either that or be waiting on your knees to choke on my dick, because I am done getting teased tonight. Fucking done.” He doesn’t let Caleb respond before he hangs up.

“Are you alright?” I say after a moment.

“Just drive.”

I focus on the road, both of us seething. As I make the turn onto the A1A, I glance over at him. “You love them both.”

He looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Of course, I do. What kind of fucking question is that?”

I rephrase. “You love him like you love her.”

His looks back out the windshield, dark brows lowered. “Yes.”

“You want them both.”

“Yes.”

“You want them to want you.”

“Yes,” he breathes, his voice deep with barely checked emotion.

“And me?”

He glances my way again. “What about you, Mars?”

“What do you want from me? Where do I fit in to this love triangle?”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Seriously? Is that why you’ve been such a dick this week? You’re over there thinking this is a love triangle and you just, what? Visit sometimes? Occasionally we all form a square?”

“Compton—”

“You’ve been calling the shots here, Mars. Not us,” he shouts. “I’m the one being a team fucking player. I wanted you to move in. I said it day fucking one. If you’re in this, you gotta be all the way in. There’s no other way I see this working.”

“You want me in?”

He huffs, arms crossed. “Rachel wants you in, Mars. And I will do fucking anything for that girl. She’s mine. She’s ours. I invited you to move in. And Caleb was wearing your jersey tonight if you didn’t notice. We’re all over here tryna build a pyramid, and you’re still stuck with pencil and paper asking where you fit in the triangle!”

I look sharply over at him. “You never invited me to move in—”

“Yes, I did!” he cries. “Day one I said, and I quote, ‘Mars, are you moving in here?’ And you said no.”

I blink at him, slowing the truck to a stop at a red light. “That’s not an invitation to move in.”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t have flowers and a box of chocolates, Mars,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I thought on beach day it was all settled with your big, fancy speech about building foundations on shifting sands,” he adds. “That’s why we need the pyramid. A triangle on sand falls right over. A pyramid doesn’t. Ask Egypt. You pushed us to make a pyramid, and now you’re playing dumb, and I’m fucking sick of it.”

I’m reeling, heart racing. He wants me in. Compton wants me all the way in. I glance over at him again. “I don’t want to fuck you, Compton. If that’s what you mean by ‘all in’ then…”

He stares at me, his face utterly unreadable. “You’re shitting me right now. This is a joke.”

“No,” I reply. “I don’t want to upset you or—”

“I don’t wanna fuck you, Mars!” he shouts. “God, you are so one hundred percent shitting me right now. This is a prank. You’re all in on it, and I’m being pranked.” He groans, dragging both hands through his hair, as he drops his elbows to his knees, holding his head in his hands.

“It’s not a prank,” I murmur.

He jerks his head up, glaring at me. “Mars, I have zero interest in fucking you or getting fucked by you. Are you kidding? The idea of your monster cock coming anywhere near me is literally terrifying. Honestly, I don’t know how Rachel does it. I don’t have the courage to bottom for you, and I totally lack the death wish to try and top you.” He gestures between us with a frantic hand wave. “So, are we good? We done here? You need this super weird conversation to go on any longer?”

I smirk, my gaze locked out the windshield as we pull up at the end of his street. “No. We’re good.”

He’s already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Good, because I need you with me on this. Caleb pays, agreed? That little shit gets his mouth stuffed with a gag, and then he watches us take our girl over and over again. We don’t stop til she’s dripping from every hole.”

I pull up in front of his garage, and he’s got his door open before I even get the truck into park.

Grabbing our gear bags from the back, he tosses mine to me, slinging his own over his shoulder. “Let’s get this fucking done.”