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Chapter 2

The tall hispnic blonde stopped dead in his tracks, his under armor backpack slung over one shoulder. He could tell by my tone that I wasn’t exactly pleased with him and we both knew why. “Yes?” Axel asked almost hesitantly, turning around slowly to face my crossed arms and popped hip. His grey eyes scanned my body, noticing the Timberlands on my feet like I was about to drop kick him in the jaw.

I honestly wanted to, but I was too good of a friend.

For now.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what this is about,” I said firmly while sending him a look. I’d just caught him leaving the men’s locker room before one of his afternoon classes so I couldn’t keep him too long. I didn’t have any Saturday classes so I’d either head out with Seb or go see my family until Axel, Seb, and I reunited for dinner or something. Just because I was getting pizza with him didn’t mean I wasn’t annoyed with though.

When he didn’t respond I scoffed and uncrossed my arms, the two of us standing in the large navy hallway that led to the reception center of the rink. “Why would you introduce me to fucking Beckett Sampson and not tell me, let alone avoiding mentioning that he was your childhood best friend the whole time?”

“Because I knew you weren’t happy about the new captain and I thought maybe you’d give him a chance if you knew him a little,” Axel tried to reason,

But even he knew the fatal flaw in his ways. I could tell by the hesitance still on his face when he spoke.

“So you didn’t tell him either?” I questioned, quaking my eyebrow and uncrossing my arms to use them when I spoke. I was wearing a blush sweatshirt with a camo button down over it. As much as I loved summer, it was already freezing in an early winter chill. “Because I slept with him and you know how that will look if it gets out. For both of us.”

Axel sighed regrettably, “I know it’s bad for you and I’m sorry, but how exactly is this bad for him?”

“Because I’m the bitch trying to get a boyfriend and he’s the player fucking his teammate and neither one of those looks good for scouting NHL teams,” I hissed quietly. I was unbelievably annoyed with Axel even if he meant well. He should have told me.

“At least you like him,” Axel tried to defend.

“Wrong. It’s weird now,” and I did not want to get into why. I have to look at the man I just had the best sex of my life with every day and resist the urge. That’s not even the worst part; the worst part was if he thought I was a submissive bitch who couldn’t stand on her own two feet without a man. I’m supposed to be having a pissing contest with the new captain, not blowing him.

“What’s weird now?” The deep voice of the one and only captain came from behind me, making me want to freeze in my tracks. I thought everyone else had left but I guess I was wrong, because a second later Beckett Sampson was standing next to me with his defined arms crossed, straining against his navy Quinnipiac shirt.

“I’m going to take that as my que to leave...” Axel muttered before spinning on his heal and making a speedy

Retreat towards the glass doors in the lobby, just past the hallway.

“This conversation isn’t over!” I shouted down the hall at him like an aggravated parent.

“Yes, it is!” I heard him yell back before a deafening silence filled the locker room hallway where I turned to face the former St. Cloud player. Beck’s sapphire eyes burned wholes in my head when I looked back at him with my forest green ones.

“So you moved here for your brother? Nothing to do with the fact your number one rival and two time defending champs needed a new forward captain?” I asked curiously.

“You don’t have to believe me, Danny. But, yes. I moved here for my brother whether you think so or not.” Beck exhaled, answering me like he didn’t want to. I noticed his eyes flicker from my face to my neck. I felt the heat rush

To my ears behind my hair, knowing he was looking at one of the hickeys I couldn’t cover with makeup, which he had left on my pale and sensitive skin. “So are we going to talk about last night?”

“You mean how you failed to mention you played hockey in the hour we were talking without being distracted?”

Beck scoffed, rolling his light blue eyes. “You didn’t mention it either. For someone who hates me so much all of the sudden, I would have thought you would be the one to recognize me.”

“Don’t pull that card on me,” I scoffed right back at him. “You didn’t recognize me either. How can you expect be to associate every new person I meet with the one new hockey player from out of state?” I defended myself. While I might not have known Beck’s first name, I was expecting a white hockey player not a Middle Eastern model. It’s hard to notice players faces when they’re wearing helmets and charging at you whenever you see them.

“Okay, while on ESPN your name is Danielle Malton so I’m sorry if Danny Riley doesn’t ring a bell,” Beck fought me back. I could hear the annoyance in his voice but not as much as the annoyance in my head, and not at him.

“I changed my name four years ago, you would think they would have updated their statistics page by now,” I grumbled, glancing away from Beck as I shot a firey glare at the blue wall with two horizontal yellow stripes across the side.

Beck noticed my sudden shift in tone from something directed at him to a genuine anger beyond the blame game we were playing. “My dad was adopted. That’s where my last name comes from,” he changed the subject. “We’re adults. We had sex. What’s the big deal?”

My eyes snapped back to Beck’s face like lightning. “The big deal is that if this gets out before draft picks I lose my credibility as a serious player and the front offices will see me as nothing but a distraction to their players. Not to mention you’ll be the one they watch under a microscope because of it.” How could he not see this? It affected him too. Then if Beck made one mistake or if we didn’t win this year, it would be my fault in the eyes of all those sports columnists who only gossip about stupid shit.

I’ve fought too hard for everything to crumble to pieces now because some idiot in a cubicle needed an outlandish and borderline sexist article to write, blaming me for why his favorite team missed a goal.

You might think I’m overreacting, but in actuality I was far from it. For over four years I’ve dealt with people’s demeaning opinions on women in men’s sports and the extra criticism.

I receive for making small mistakes that everyone else makes on the ice. It wasn’t fair, but I wasn’t complaining. I’m simply pointing it out and trying to avoid making it worse.

“Then it won’t get out, Danny. What happens behind closed doors can stay behind closed doors,” Beck tried to reassure me but his calming tone did little to relax me. “You know you weren’t this tense last night. Maybe we could recreate those circumstances.”

I didn’t miss how his voice changed to have a suggestive inflection, his heated and soul crushing gaze suddenly feeling even more intense than before. The memories of his hands on my body and the way he arrested my pupils burned in the back of my brain even more vibrantly than the warm feeling of Beck’s presence.

My lungs took a deep inhale of breath when Beck’s warm hands settled on my small waist, gently pushing my back

Against the wall and keeping my body right where he wanted it. “Don’t act like you don’t want me, Danny,” Beck’s husky voice whispered in my ear, his lips brushing my hair. Before he could flirt with me anymore, I had to shut him down.

“Not happening. Get your hands off of me.” Much to his credit, Beck dropped his grip from my body instantly, but his body was still eerily close for even ‘friends’, towering over my short frame. “No matter how good last night was, it just permanently became a one night stand.”

Beck studied my face for a moment, deciding on which response he wanted to go with. “I respect your choice, Danny,” he told me while taking a step back. “But you’d be a fool to believe that will stay true. My name will be on your lips and your body between my sheets soon enough.”

Cocky it was.

Danny,” he told me while taking a step back. “But you’d be a fool to believe that will stay true. My name will be on your lips and your body between my sheets soon enough.”

Before I could even retort to the hockey player looking down at me, Beck and his mirthful smirk turned and walked down the hallway, leaving me to eye his figure and pretend he hadn’t just told me his most unpure intentions.

I had known since the moment I met him that Beck was a self assured mother fucker. Sadly, the persistent character just so happened to be Beckett Sampson.

Lord give me strength, because after a season with that arrogant forward, I might just lose it.

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