Sparkling Hope (The Eastburgh Devils Series Book 1)

Six months earlier.

Memories are clearly the worst psychological torture, something I only realized as cool drops of water rolled down my forehead under my hockey helmet and slowly ran down my face.

I would stamp today’s Friday as a whole hell day with three exclamation points until this good-looking blonde with big angel curls from the first semester ran into me and sweetened the last hour before our home game.

Fuck.

‘Weston. Get on the Ice. Now!’ Coach Henderson ordered me, squeezing my shoulder before my blades were the first to slide across the freshly polished ice.

Actually, number sixty-eight, Charles Whitfield, the captain of the Eastburgh Devils, would enter the ice first if he wasn’t in New York with ice hockey legend Theodore Whitfield, who was also his father.

When my skate blades touched the shiny ice surface, I flew into  tunnel vision in seconds.

Then there is only the ice surface, the team, and the fighting spirit to win the game.

My brain had something else in mind for me today.

As I looked out at the packed stands around the rink, among the familiar faces were new ones, complete strangers.

The freshmen had their move-in on campus last weekend, so the game was postponed from last Friday to today because the campus was utterly overflowing with families accompanying their kids as they moved in.

Trevor, one of the forwards on the team, claimed to have seen a girl dragging two boxes full of stuffed animals.

I didn’t believe him until he showed me a video on his phone where he filmed the girl dragging boxes across the ESU campus.

A week later, everyone had finished moving in and was officially a student of Eastburgh Sport University.

I made my rounds on the ice with spotlights shining until all my teammates arrived.

We lined up on the right blue line that marked the neutral zone and waited as the Kentucky Penguins players faced us.

It was good to hear the cheering got noticeably quieter as the opposing team players entered the ice.

It’s probably because tonight’s game was a home game, and ninety-nine percent of the crowd were Eastburgh Sport University students.

Also, what sane team is called the Penguins?

They probably glide across the ice with their bellies rather than their skates.

I took the chance to let my eyes dart over the bleachers, and I liked what I found there on new female faces.

The unfamiliar, new female faces were the perfect fresh meat for the Eastburgh Devils.

Easy to wrap around your finger and tight as fuck.

Even the blonde who had burned the sex firmly into my memory with her moans gave me a quick wave as she looked for a spot among all the cheering people.

I winked at her and returned her wave by raising my hand.

She settled down at a place where she gave a girl a hug and then whispered something into her ear.

For the lips that now hung on the ear of the person next to her, nestled perfectly around my dick earlier, and that was the unmistakable proof not to call the whole Friday a final hell day.

If this were hell after all, I would sign the contract with the devil here and now on the ice if I get a blowjob every day from an angel in return.

To end the day well, the Kentucky Penguins have to go home with a loss. My eyes drifted from the girl who had just whispered something in her ear to her again.

God, her boobs looked so fucking gorgeous in that skin-tight long-sleeved shirt.

What was her name again?

I’d be lying if I said I was interested in her name because one thing led to another, and since there wasn’t enough time, I had to concentrate on more important things.

At first, I thought it would be respectful if I asked what her name was, as she moaned mine loudly as my fingers slid between her legs.

Then I remembered that I actually didn’t give a shit because this was just a one-time thing anyway.

It had to stay at one time, noncommittal, hot, good sex. That’s all   I wanted, and all the girls I sleep with should wish to.

That was my rule.

The only exception I make is if the sex is so fucking good that I would sleep with the same girl twice.

With this attitude, college life is so much easier.

I get what I want with no strings attached and no bullshit feelings.

My beautiful view was only denied me until a strange girl pushed past her in line.

This girl wore a kitschy, white wool cap which tiny hearts crocheted up and covered her long, thick brown hair.

Even though the wool cap was the ugliest part, her face and body were all the more beautiful.

I couldn’t see much of her from the ice, but what I saw was enough for me and my dick.

Beautiful was not an expression.

She was perfect.

There was nothing better than new freshmen.

I sighed and averted my eyes from the girl in the wool cap, who let her gaze slide across the ice and then over each of the boys on the team.

Meanwhile, Coach Henderson’s daughter, Aria was pointing as inconspicuously as she could at us players and mumbling to the girl in the ugly wool cap.

Through the grille of my helmet, I could observe that both were now looking at me.

I would wink at the brunette or put a dirty grin on my lips, but I wanted to keep the cute blonde one row behind them warm when it was time to go to the abandoned diner after the game, where hopefully, we could all celebrate our victory today with alcohol and sex.

Besides, the brunette in the wool cap didn’t look like she was interested in a threesome.

But who actually can’t resist me?

Not the win against the Kentucky Penguins, because that’s what we’ll take home tonight.