Ice Bet: A Forbidden Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

“What a freaking game.”

I followed Sutton, Taytum, and Taytum’s friend, Claire, down the hallway bustling with every other person in the stands. I typically stayed in the box with Coach’s Davis’ daughters, coloring in a Barbie coloring book, until the stands cleared, but with Aasher putting me on the spot in front of everyone last night, I opted to sit in the stands—just like he demanded.

To make it clear, though, I didn’t do it for him.

I did it for me.

“They were totally targeting Aasher.” We followed Sutton into the bathroom.

“They definitely were.” I fixed my Bexley U shirt and adjusted it over my torso, staying off to the side while Sutton and Taytum used the bathroom. Claire was staring at her phone screen, grinning. I watched a few girls fix their hair in the mirror, but it did nothing to distract the irrational anger I had behind my nonchalant attitude.

I wanted to rush onto the ice and grab those players and bust their heads in for purposefully attacking Aasher. Questions circulated around the stands as everyone sat back and watched him take every insult, jab, and cross-check. It got to the point that I almost marched down to where my father was to tell him to do something.

I didn’t, of course, because what would everyone think if I did that?

“Is Aasher the one that kept getting taken down?”

My lip popped out from behind my teeth, and I stared at the girl reapplying her pink lipstick in the mirror. She puckered her lips, and I held back an eye roll when I read the back of her shirt. It said Puck Bunny over the number three.

“Obviously.” Sutton didn’t even look at her as she washed her hands.

I, however, couldn’t seem to look away. She threw her lipstick back into her purse and leaned against the sink, seemingly not caring that other people needed to use it. “Do you girls know him? You go to BU, right?”

“Yes, why?” My response was snippy, and everyone noticed.

“Can you introduce me to him?” Um, no. 

Taytum snickered, and Claire pulled on her arm, hauling her away. I stayed put against the wall, waiting for Sutton to finish washing her hands.

“No offense”—Sutton turned the water off—“but I highly doubt that he will want anything to do with you if you’re wearing the number of the guy who continued to blast him all over the ice.”

My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth together. Who does she think she is? And why am I so irked?

“Trade me?”

I was struck speechless when she whipped her shirt off. Her boobs spilled out of a black bra.

“Are you that desperate?” I asked. I purposefully ignored looking at myself in the mirror because I knew my cheeks were red, and it had nothing to do with a pair of boobs in my face. “As if we would let him climb into bed with you!”

Sutton laughed loudly. Her hand flew to her mouth, and when I turned back to the girl, she was slowly putting her shirt back on. “Who said anything about a bed?”

I stepped forward, but Sutton’s hand fell to my arm. “Well, good luck with that!” she called over her shoulder before dragging us through the bathroom door.

Taytum and Claire popped up from the wall they were resting on.

“What’s so funny?” Taytum asked.

Sutton looked back and forth between us and shook her head after letting her laughter die down. “Nothing. Just some crazed puck bunny in there.”

What the hell was that? I didn’t even act like that with Gray, and there were tons of puck bunnies that tried to get his attention—and apparently had succeeded.

“Let’s go! We have a poker game to gear up for.”

“Poker?” Claire asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

“Yes, Little-Miss-Workaholic. When you were rehearsing in the studio last night after your shift, we were busy playing a little game of hockey with the guys.” Taytum paused. “Except for Theo. He wasn’t there. I wonder where he was?”

We stepped outside, and Claire was quick to turn away from Taytum. She shrugged. “Beats me.”

“Liar,” Taytum whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you!”

Claire didn’t deny lying, but she quickly said bye to us, and we watched as she crossed the street and climbed into her car.

Headlights crept around the swarm of fans as I nibbled on my lip. Every green shirt caught my eye, and I kept watching for the player that was harassing Aasher, though I knew that they wouldn’t go through the front doors like the fans—unless they had a large ego and liked the attention.

Which most of them did.

Sutton, Taytum, and I lingered over the curb of the sidewalk when people started to rush past us to get back inside.

“What’s going on?” Sutton asked.

“Hey.” Taytum grabbed on to a girl rushing past us. “Where are you going?”

Her response cut through the pounding of footsteps against pavement. “Aasher Matthews is about to get in a fight.”

I turned and put my endurance to the test. I may not have been actively skating, but I still stretched every single night, and it paid off. I was muscular from years in the rink, so I easily pushed through groups of college girls milling around and slipped underneath a few outstretched arms.

My heart sank.

Aasher, with messy damp hair and a flexing jaw, stood in the middle of a crowded hallway with too many sets of eyes pinned to him. There was an older man talking to him, but with the way Aasher’s fists were flexing at his sides, it was clear to everyone that he didn’t want to be standing there.

The crowd gasped when the man grabbed on to Aasher’s T-shirt, bundling the fabric between his fingers. I looked around, bypassing Taytum and Sutton’s gaped mouths. Where is my dad? 

“Where is security?” Sutton asked.

She and Taytum took off, and I assumed it was to find security, but I knew that it would be a long shot. After watching the game unfold and seeing the referees do nothing to rectify the beating that Aasher was getting, I knew that strings had been pulled. I had been in the hockey world for almost as long as I had been in the figure skating world—it was how these things worked.

I slipped between a few guys and went down the opposite hall that I knew wound back to the locker rooms.

An ooh from the crowd followed me like a shadow, and when I skidded to a halt in front of the locker room door, Theo walked out with this bag slung over his shoulder. “Lookin’ for your dad? He’s in his office.”

Theo’s head whipped in the direction of the rising noise and snapped his attention back to me. “Aasher’s in trouble.”

He took off in one direction, and I took off in the other.

“Dad!” I shouted, ignoring the starstruck, half-naked hockey players.

“Riley? What the hell are you doing in here with my team undressing?”

His eyes flew to his players, one of them in nothing but a towel, and I definitely got a glimpse of a bare ass.

“Aasher is in trouble. There’s an older man, and he’s—”

“Shit!”

My dad was hot on my heels, and we both jogged down the hall like the good ol’ days when we’d race around the bend in our neighborhood.

“What the hell is going—” Theo’s words were cut short.

There was an audible gasp that traveled through the growing crowd like a wave, and I clutched my stomach when I saw Aasher’s head snap to the right from the hit.

To everyone’s surprise, Aasher righted his footing and rubbed the blood away from his lip without raising a fist. Aasher either thought he deserved the punch, or he knew that the man was baiting him. I watched everything unfold in complete and utter horror. My father stepped forward, and I went with him, knowing he had a temper when it came to his players.

He was tough on them.

But he had a soft spot for them too. No one messed with his own and got away with it.

“If you ever touch one of my players again, I will get the board involved, and you’ll be banned from ever stepping foot in an arena again.”

“Dad!” A pretty girl rushed through the crowd, completely out of breath. Her gasps cut through the silence like a knife, and everyone turned to look at her. “What are you doing?!” She slipped right in front of Aasher and pushed her dad away. “You can’t just accept it, can you?”

“Savannah, not here.” His jaw twitched, and he glared at Aasher over her high ponytail.

“Not here?” she screeched. “You just punched him in front of everyone and don’t even get me started on that game! I cannot believe you.”

She turned around with owl-like eyes that brimmed with moisture. “I am so sorry, Aash. I…” Her mouth was hidden behind her palm. Her watery gaze swung around the crowd and she shook her head.

“It’s fine.”

I stared at Aasher, and my throat narrowed. I’d never seen someone look so defeated, and it should have surprised me that it bothered me so much, but it didn’t.

“It is not fine,” Savannah snapped, turning to look at Theo and the rest of the team who were shooing away the bystanders. “I knew this would happen. The second I got a text about Van’s behavior, I rushed over here.”

“They want someone to blame. It’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine.” She spun around and headed to follow after her dad.

I pulled back when Aasher reached out and grabbed her hand. I was baffled at the jealousy I felt. Why is this bothering me? I wanted to turn away, give him the privacy he deserved.

But I couldn’t look away.

“It is. I can be the bad guy.”

Savannah looked down at Aasher’s hand. I wanted to hate her, but I knew nothing about her. If Aasher didn’t hate her, even after her dad attacked him, how could I? “But you’re not a bad guy.”

Aasher let go of her hand. She turned around, and that was when I pulled my eyes away from her. I stood quietly as everyone continued to push the crowd away. His long arms were down by his sides, and his cheeks were flushed with anger or embarrassment, maybe even both.

I stepped up to him, zeroing in on his busted lip. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, turning the rest of the way around, and began heading toward the way I came. “I’m fine.” His answer was a brush of cool air in my direction. He wouldn’t meet my eye, and though I knew I shouldn’t have followed after him, I did anyway.

The locker room was empty when I entered, except for Aasher. He was tucked behind the second row of lockers with his forehead pressed against the silver metal, and his hands flattened on both sides. The gray BU shirt he wore was stretched tightly against his back with little specks of sweat dotting his spine.

“What are you doing here?”

I jumped at the brash tone he used.

When he turned to me, I stared directly at the blood still trickling from his bottom lip. I went into the showers that lingered with steam and grabbed a rag off the shelf, wetting it. When I returned, Aasher was sitting on the bench with his head hung low and his hands resting on the tops of his knees.

“Look up,” I whispered, stepping into him. He spread his legs, and his head slowly rose. His high cheekbones were stamped red, and there was an ache in my chest.

My breath quickened when his hands splayed against the backs of my thighs, and he pulled me in closer, angling his head so I could press the rag against his mouth. I wanted to ask what just happened, and I wanted to know who Savannah was. It was only fair after all, since he knew so much about me. But instead of asking, I wiped at his busted mouth and relaxed in the silence that surrounded us. It was just as calming being in a silent locker room with him as it was when we were on the ice, working on college papers with nothing but the buzzing lights above our heads, which was surprising because the last time I was alone with a guy in a locker room, I was left tainted.

Aasher knew my secrets, and he had seen my fears firsthand. Knowing someone’s secrets and keeping them close was how you built trust. The fact that I was standing in a deserted locker room with Aasher told me all I needed to know.

I trusted him more than I thought.

“Your lip is split,” I whispered, dabbing at his mouth again.

“I don’t care.”

“Be honest. Are you okay?” My hand shook when he peered up at me.

“I’m fine.” Hetightened his grip on the backs of my legs, a tell to his lie. Denim separated the pads of his fingers along my skin, but warmth still rushed to the spot he was touching. “It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“But I am concerned,” I whispered, wiping at his mouth once more. The blood seemed to stop.

“Why?” he asked, keeping his face tilted toward me. His green eyes stood out against the flushed color of his skin and richness of his still-damp hair.

I really shouldn’t be concerned.

Up until this moment, I swore to never be vulnerable when it came to another hockey player, no matter how genuine they may seem. I swore I’d never fall for another hockey player, either—or trust one. Yet here I was.

It was the way he looked at me with pride when I got onto the ice.

It was the sincere tone he used when he told me he was proud of me.

The warmth that pooled in my lower belly with his approval was something I hadn’t felt in years.

Asher pushed away the rag that I tried to use on his lip again. It fell to the bench beside him with a smack. “I could have sworn that you told me you hated me last night. So why are you in here wiping the blood off my face and asking if I’m okay?”

“Because.” I looked away, but he pulled me in even closer. A ragged breath squeezed out of my tight chest.

“Eyes on me, Duster.”

Heat flooded in between my legs, and I knew he could sense it. My brows folded together, but his words worked into my skin like a scar.

“You don’t hate me after all, do you?”

“Maybe I’m just taking care of you because I owe you one. You took care of me after the party, so I’m just repaying you,” I lied right through my teeth.

His lip tipped. “You are such a liar. I think you’re finally realizing that not all hockey players are assholes.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I warned, reaching down and grabbing the damp rag again. I used a little more force when I pressed it against his lip this time. “You just got sucker punched by someone’s father.”

His body stiffened.

“You’re right,” he whispered, reaching up and putting his hand on top of mine to take the rag. I should have pulled back and let him take control, but I didn’t want to. I liked being close to him.

Temptation tugged at my belly, and his stare was unwavering. “You should step away or else I’m going to be punched by two fathers tonight, and I’ll actually deserve the one from your dad.”

“Why would you deserve it? You’ve been watching out for me since he asked you to, have attempted to keep the hockey team from making me another notch on their bedpost, and I skated last night. You’ve found a way to get me to trust you.” That is no small feat.

Goose bumps covered my arms when Aasher’s hand crept from the back of my thigh to the front of my hip. His fingers pressed into me when he stood and the rag dropped to the ground. “Because I touched you, and I shouldn’t have.”

Snippets of him above me with hooded eyes flashed in my mind. “But that was different. I asked you to and—”

“Don’t ask me again.”

I swallowed my pride and tried to step away. First, I was jealous, and now I was wounded because he obviously regretted the other night. But why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t like he sought me out because he wanted me. He was forced to step into my life because of my dad and now because of his team. Why did I all of a sudden want him to want me?

“Stop it.”

His hands slipped down to my waist to keep me steady.

“Stop what?”

“Stop looking disappointed at the thought of me not touching you again.”

I blinked to hide the truth on my face.

“If I agreed to touch you without knowing how you looked while being pleasured, what makes you think I wouldn’t say yes now after watching you come apart from my touch?”

My cheeks burned. The cold metal locker behind my back didn’t come close to touching the heat rushing against my skin. I looked at Aasher’s mouth, busted lip and all, and wanted him to kiss me in the most desperate way.

“Tell me to let go of you, Riley.”

I sucked in a breath, prepared to do just that. But I surprised us both when I said, “No.”