A Pucking Wrong Christmas: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series)

As the plane began its descent into New York City, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the window, my emotions in turmoil. The city sprawled beneath me, a vast, glittering expanse of lights and memories, a place that held both the promise of excitement and the weight of painful history.

I hadn’t set foot in this city since I had run away—run away from the Shepfields, from Clark, and from a life that had become suffocating. The memories that resided here were a tangled web of joy and sorrow, and I wasn’t sure how to unravel them.

I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, feeling a mixture of anxiety and anticipation gnawing at my insides. Ari had surprised me with this trip because I’d told him the other week that there was no place like New York for Christmas—that it was the only thing about New York I missed. He was trying to give me whatever I wanted, just like he always did.

But the past still lingered, like a shadow that refused to fade. The city’s skyline, so iconic and breathtaking, felt like a constant reminder of everything I had left behind. I could almost hear the echoes of conversations, the laughter, and the tears that had once filled the streets.

The plane continued its descent, bringing me closer to the city that had shaped me in so many ways–not for the better. The familiar landmarks came into view—the towering skyscrapers, the bustling streets, and the twinkling lights of Times Square.

I took a deep breath, trying to push aside the apprehension that clung to me like a second skin.

The wheels of the plane touched down, and Monroe bounced around in her seat excitedly. I pretended to be excited too. I didn’t want to ruin the trip for her, or for anyone.

I made a silent promise to myself that I would embrace this opportunity. Ari was my superman. I was pretty sure that with him by my side, I could conquer anything.

Even the ghosts of my past.

We said goodbye to Edna and Mabel and stepped off the plane. There was a sleek, black limousine waiting for us just a short walk away.

The limo gleamed in the afternoon sun, its polished exterior reflecting the vibrant cityscape around us. The chauffeur, a woman of course, dressed in a crisp black suit, stood by the open door, ready to greet us with a warm smile.

We climbed into the plush interior of the limo, sinking into the soft leather seats that cradled us in comfort. The scent of leather and polished wood filled the air, adding to the sense of opulence. Tinted windows shielded us from the bustling world outside, creating a cocoon of privacy in the midst of the city’s chaos.

“I’m never going to get used to this,” Monroe said in awe, accepting the glasses of sparkling cider that the driver handed to her before she closed the door. Ari had told me she didn’t drink very much, if at all, so the cider made sense. I was grateful mine was champagne, though. I needed some liquid courage at the moment.

“Get used to what?”

“This,” she laughed, gesturing around her. “I’m in a limo…after just getting off a private plane. Drinking from a fancy glass. On my way to watch my rich hockey player husband play in front of thousands. It’s…surreal.” The end of her sentence came out as a whisper.

I scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her. “It’s freaking awesome, right? How lucky are we?”

She grinned. “Yeah. It is freaking awesome.”

We sipped our drinks as we drove through Manhattan. A million memories in my head.

The towering skyscrapers reached for the sky, their glass facades reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling display.

Yellow taxis weaved in and out of traffic, while pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks, lost in their own world. We passed by the Empire State Building, and Central Park…all bathed in the golden light of late afternoon.

There was a different energy here than in L.A., a constant vibrant, pulsating heartbeat that hit me in my gut.

And then I saw it. The Metropolitan Museum.

The sight of it hit me like a tidal wave. The memories of that day, of running down those steps, came rushing back, and it was almost incomprehensible how much my life had changed since that moment.

It was incredible how a single decision, one word spoken in a moment of clarity and desperation, had completely reshaped my world.

As I gazed at the Met, I couldn’t help but wonder about the alternate reality where I had said yes to Clark. Would I even be alive right now? Or would I have drowned already, consumed by the world I’d been trapped in?

“Blake…are you alright?” Monroe whispered, her green eyes wide and soulful as she stared at me.

I gave her a smile, but I knew it felt flat. “There’s a lot of memories here. A lot of demons so to speak.”

She nodded, looking thoughtful. “I know all about demons. I’m conquering a few of my own this season…all the seasons.” Monroe squeezed my hand and my heart thumped.

It was nice to have a friend.

The limo pulled to the back of the arena where Lincoln was playing, and the driver got out to open the door for us. Before she could get to the door, it was yanked open and there was Ari. He immediately reached in and plucked me out, swinging me around in his arms and burying his face in my neck. His body shuddered like he’d been in withdrawal and I was just the hit he needed.

“Fuck. I missed you. I missed you. I missed you,” he growled, keeping me plastered against him as he smacked a kiss against my lips.

“Hi,” I smiled against his mouth. “I missed you too.” It didn’t feel as hard to be vulnerable with him anymore, not when he was giving me all of him. Every day. “But I’m confused why you didn’t just fly with us.”

He scoffed, and his arms tightened around me once more before he reluctantly slid me down his body. Belatedly, I realized Walker was standing a few steps away, his hands in his pocket, looking adorably awkward as he pretended not to watch us. “You can thank ‘Golden Boy’ for that,” he said with a sigh as he waved to Monroe behind me.

“Oh boy. What did my husband do now?” Monroe said with mock exasperation as she walked up next to us.

“Linc threatened ‘Little Ari’ with bodily harm if he rode on the plane with Monroe without him,” Walker supplied helpfully.

My jaw dropped. But Monroe…she didn’t seem shocked at all.

Ari’s whole body was shaking against me.

“And that would be why he never answered my text asking why he was wondering if you were on the plane with me.”

“I sent him a photoshopped picture of me sitting on the plane next to you.” Ari was bent over now, unable to control himself because he was laughing so hard. “He literally called me fifty million times. And then he called Mabel and Edna just to make sure.”

Walker was shaking his head at Ari…or Lincoln. Both called for a head shake at the moment.

Ari straightened, wiping at his eyes. “It’s too good. I can literally torture him for the rest of our lives about Monroe. You’re the gift that keeps on giving, bestie,” he said, patting Monroe on the head like she was a puppy.

Monroe rolled her eyes, scrunching up her nose adorably. “Let’s go inside before he comes out looking for me.” With the way she was marching towards the arena though, I think she was just as antsy to see Lincoln.

Ari grabbed my hand again and dragged me against him.

“You know I would have been on that plane with you, golden boy aside, but I figured you and Monroe might want some girl time. Did you have a good time?”

“I really did,” I told him, melting against him. “Monroe’s a keeper.”

“Mmmh, you’re a keeper,” he murmured, pressing a kiss on my lips that had me contemplating if we could sneak in a quickie somewhere.

A throat cleared and we both glanced behind us to see Walker standing there. “Can we not make me feel like the thirdest wheel of all third wheels,” he huffed.

Ari smacked my ass. “Disney, I can’t keep my hands off of her. I’m addicted. #sorrynotsorry.”

Walker sighed and shook his head. “I did sign up for this.”

Ari then smacked him on the ass. “Get in there, Disney. And find yourself a soulmate.”

Walker’s face fell. “Yeah. Yeah.”

But he didn’t look excited about it.

Monroe

“Please, please, please,” Ari was pleading with me. He was currently on his knees in the hallway outside of where our seats were located. Trying to convince me to wear his jersey for at least one of the periods.

“Do you have a death wish?” I drawled as Blake and Walker huffed out laughs.

“Possibly. But that’s besides the point. I need this. Walker needs this. Your bestie Blake needs this.”

Walker put up his hands in front of him. “I want it on the record that I am not a part of this.”

Ari rolled his eyes so dramatically, they almost disappeared. “Of course, you don’t want to be a part of this, Disney, you little simp.”

“I just don’t want Lincoln mad at me.”

“Sigh. Fine. I will tell Lincoln you weren’t a part of this.”

“How are you going to do that if you’re dead?” quipped Blake.

“Exactly,” I nodded seriously.

“Monroe. This is all I want for Christmas,” Ari pleaded…somehow still on his knees.

There were flocks of people staring at us and I was starting to get embarrassed.

“For the next five years!” he said louder, causing even more people to stare.

“Fine,” I hissed. “Just get up!”

Ari had a smug expression on his face as he slid smoothly to his feet.

“Thank you.”

“We are not besties anymore,” I told him.

“Please. I’m lovable. You and Lincoln love me.” He pulled Blake into his side. “Tell them I’m loveable.”

“You are so loveable,” she purred, hearts in her eyes.

So cute.

“I’m right here,” groaned Walker.

“We’re well aware, bro,” Ari snarked, blowing him a kiss.

“Let’s go in,” I said with a sigh as I slipped on Ari’s old Dallas jersey.

We walked into the stands, making our way down to the second row where our seats were located.

A crisp, almost metallic aroma of freshly cut ice hung in the air. It mingled with the earthy undertones of the wooden boards that encased the rink. The sounds of skates slicing through the ice greeted us, sharp, rhythmic hisses that reverberated through the arena. The murmur of the crowd filled the air, a constant hum of anticipation and excitement. The voices of fans, young and old, blended together in a chorus of cheers and chatter.

It was amazing how it all had become so familiar to me, this world I’d never imagined before.

Lincoln’s gaze locked with mine and butterflies cycled through me. The urge to reach out and touch him was a beating drum in my chest. Judging by the way he was staring at me—he felt the same way.

I’d missed him even in the few hours we’d been a part.

I loved him so much it hurt.

And I didn’t think that was ever going to change.

He pointed at me and then raised his hands…in a heart sign.

Like he had in every game since that first time.

I squirmed in my seat and Blake shot me a knowing glance from beside me.

Warmups finished and Lincoln lined up at center ice, his stick tapping in a rhythmic cadence, a fierceness in his eyes that was…freaking hot. The arena’s lights gleamed brightly overhead, casting a spotlight on the pristine ice surface.

The ref dropped the puck, and in an instant, the game was underway. The clash of sticks, the sharp scrape of blades against ice, and the unmistakable thud of body checks echoed through the arena, creating a pulse of energy that surged through the crowd.

The play unfolded with breathtaking speed and precision. Players weaved through the neutral zone, passing the puck with pinpoint accuracy. Shots were fired on the goals, each one accompanied by a collective intake of breath from the crowd. The goaltenders made spectacular saves, and the crowd groaned and cheered with every near-miss, every breakaway, and every thunderous hit along the boards.

We were at the end of the first period when Lincoln finally managed to break through the opposing team’s defense. He deftly maneuvered the puck, his stick slicing through the air, and then, with a flick of his wrist, Lincoln released the puck.

It soared through the air, a perfectly executed shot that left no doubt in anyone’s mind.

The puck was going in.

It slipped past the goaltender’s defenses and into the back of the net.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding with excitement and pride for my man.

“Suck it, Conroe,” Walker yelled, and Ari glanced at him, impressed.

‘Disney, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I hate that guy. He shared a video online last year before we played each other that was just a montage of goals scored against me. Fucking douchebag,” he griped as he lifted his shirt.

Ari followed suit with a big grin on his face and I turned to stare at what was painted on their chests.

“We Love You” was on Ari’s chest, and “Golden Boy” was on Walker’s.

I snorted as the women in the crowd went absolutely wild as the cameras panned on Walker and Ari’s perfect chest and abs and they appeared on the Jumbotron.

The crowd suddenly hushed abruptly though, and I glanced at the ice to see if something had happened. Only to see Lincoln.

He had torn off his jersey and was standing there in his hockey pads, his arms folded across his chest.

His face was very unamused as he stared at me, and I froze.

“Looks like Linc just noticed your jersey,” Blake whisper-yelled next to me.

“I think you’re right,” I responded, unable to take my eyes away from Lincoln.

He skated over to the glass in front of us and banged on it, releasing a tirade filled with a bunch of f-bombs. His glance went to Ari who had the biggest grin I’d ever seen on his face, and he made a slicing motion across his neck.

“I will kill you,” he mouthed.

I sighed. “Great. Now you’re going to get him kicked out of the NHL because he just threatened you on national television.”

“Nah. We’re giving the people a show. And the big guys always like a show,” he snorted as we continued to watch Lincoln lose it.

Lincoln skated over to the bench and threw his jersey to an assistant, pointing to me as he did so. I stood there, in utter mortification as the assistant scrambled up the stairs like his ass was on fire and handed me a jersey.

“Please put this on before I lose my job,” he begged as a bead of sweat fell down his forehead that was out of place in the cold arena.

Lincoln had somehow come up with another jersey and was slipping it on as he skated over to watch and make sure I put it on.

I fumbled for a moment as I hastily removed Ari’s jersey from over my long sleeve top, and slipped into Lincoln’s. The moment the fabric settled on my skin, the grateful assistant scurried back to the bench.

The crowd’s cheers erupted as soon as the jersey was on, and apparently Ari was right…they did love a show, because they were even louder than they’d been before.

Lincoln nodded and mouthed an “I love you,” before he skated back to start play.

“If Lincoln doesn’t kill you, I’m going to kill you,” I hissed at Ari with a hand over my mouth to hide my words since the jumbotron was still on us.

Ari pulled Blake into him and laughed. “Please. I just made sure you’ll get the best sex of your life. I’m a hero.”

“Make sure he knows I had nothing to do with it!” Walker inserted in a panicked voice.

And we all laughed.