How To Puck The Hockey Captain

4

BLAKE

“I’m never doing you any favors again!” I snapped, shoving the paper bags into Preston’s face.. My frustration flared as I caught his surprised expression, but all I could think about was the taste of Zoe’s lips still lingering on mine, sweet and intoxicating.

“Uh, where’s my little sister?” Preston asked, glancing around like he could summon her out of thin air. “I told her to come here and watch us play.”

My heart dropped. A wave of heat flushed through me as I struggled to keep my cool. What was I supposed to say? That I kissed his baby sister and now I couldn’t stop thinking about it?

“I, um, I don’t know,” I muttered, avoiding his gaze. The memory of her lips against mine was still too fresh, too raw. The sweet taste of her lip gloss—strawberries, or maybe cherry—still lingered. Damn, I could practically feel her breath, hot and shallow, on my skin.

Preston’s eyebrow arched, his mouth curving into that I’m-about-to-roast-you smile. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” I snapped, too defensive, too fast. I crossed my arms, trying to look unaffected, but my cheeks were probably betraying me, flushed with the memory of what really happened.

What could I say? Well, Preston, your sweet, innocent sister kissed me, told me off, and stormed away, leaving me like some love-struck i***t. How’s your day?

“Right. ‘Nothing,’” he echoed back, his smirk widening like he could see right through me. “Is that why you’re acting like a lost puppy right now? Don’t you dare, Blake. She’s off-limits.”

My gut twisted. “Off-limits?” I shot back, my tone hardening. “Seriously? She’s not some trophy, Preston.”

Preston took a step closer, his smirk dropping as his eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean. If you mess with her, you’ll have to deal with me.”

Deal with you? I thought, my heart pounding. I was already dealing with enough—like the fact that Zoe was in my head, making it impossible to think straight. The taste of her lips was a constant distraction, a reminder that I’d crossed a line I never meant to touch.

Yeah, I knew exactly what he meant. Zoe was supposed to be the little sister I barely noticed. The one I teased about books and nerdy stuff. The one who definitely didn’t belong in my head, making it impossible for me to think straight.

But here I was. Stuck. Helpless. And completely obsessed.

“Relax, I’m not messing with her,” I muttered, but even to my own ears, it sounded weak. Defeated.

Preston just shook his head, letting out a sigh as he turned away. “Good. Because if you do… I’ll break your face.”

I watched him walk off, tension coiling in my chest. He thought he could control this? That just by telling me to back off, I’d be able to forget the way Zoe looked at me? The way she felt against me?

I ran a hand through my hair, huffing out a breath. I really needed to get my s**t together. We were about to hit the ice for practice, and I needed to shake it off, get back in the game. But the second I saw Zoe walk in—laughing and chatting with Vaughn—my stomach twisted like a damn pretzel.

Seriously? She had to show up now?

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Preston muttered, his voice a mix of annoyance and something darker. I saw his jaw tighten, muscles bunching in his arms like he might actually punch Vaughn. “You’re late, Vaughn.”

Vaughn just shrugged, grinning like an i***t. “Sorry, man. I saw her outside.”

Preston’s eyes narrowed further, the tension rolling off him in waves. “Go home, Zoe. Stop flirting with him.”

“Ugh, you’re such an asshole, Preston!” Zoe shot back, her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. The kind of pink that made me want to press my lips against her skin just to see if she tasted as sweet as she looked.

I couldn’t help it. “Yeah, you’re such an asshole, Preston!” I mimicked, trying to diffuse the tension.

Zoe’s gaze snapped to mine, fire blazing in her eyes. “You’re more of an asshole too!”

“What did I do?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“Ugh. Jerks!” She huffed, turning on her heel and stomping over to the other side of the rink. Her hair swayed with each step, catching the light and making it look like she had a halo of dark silk cascading down her back.

Preston turned to me, eyebrow c****d. “Thought you said you weren’t messing with her?”

“I’m not!” I protested, but my voice lacked conviction. What the hell was wrong with me?

“She’s not a game, Blake,” he warned, his voice serious.

I just clenched my jaw, nodding as I grabbed my stick and headed out onto the ice. I had to forget about her. Just for one hour. But even as I started running drills, pucks clanging against sticks, skates scraping the ice, laughter echoing around us… I couldn’t stop glancing over at where she sat.

Damn it.

Her dark hair framed her face, and I found myself wondering how it would feel tangled in my fingers. The way she sulked, arms crossed and lower lip jutting out—yeah, she looked like she was plotting my demise. And it was all kinds of hot.

“Blake! Move!” Preston shouted, snapping me back to reality.

I shifted too late, my skates catching the edge of the ice. I slipped, falling flat on my back with a resounding thud. Laughter erupted around me, but I could only groan, the embarrassment burning through me.

“Nice one, man!” Vaughn called out, still chuckling. “What were you doing on the ground, Captain?”

From the sidelines, I heard her voice—mocking, playful. “Wow, Blake! Is that part of your strategy? Falling flat on your face?” She put a hand to her chest dramatically, pretending to be shocked.

I hate that I can’t even be mad at her, I thought as I shot her a glare, struggling to keep my composure. “Very funny, Zoe.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started!” she replied, rolling her eyes and sticking out her tongue. “Next time, maybe try staying on your skates!”

“Boo! Loser!” she called out, waving her arms as if conducting a symphony of mockery.

I bit back a grin, the heat rising to my cheeks again. “Thanks for the support!” I shot back, shaking my head.

Preston skated over, still chuckling. “You know, if you keep this up, you might want to switch to figure skating instead.”

“Shut it!” I snapped, but the banter was infectious, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of irritation and amusement at Zoe’s antics. She was relentless, and every jab only made me want to kiss that smug grin off her face.

With every drill, I felt like I was skating on thin ice—literally and figuratively. Each puck I shot seemed to veer off course, my concentration shattered by the sound of her laughter and the sight of her smirking at me like she had the upper hand.

“Get it together, Blake!” I muttered to myself, but it was no use. Zoe was in my head, and there was no getting her out. The way she’d tasted—the way she’d felt in my arms—had me craving more. So much more.

The practice finally wrapped up, but it felt like a battle I’d lost miserably. I leaned against the boards, chest heaving, bruises already forming from my clumsy stunts.

“Happy now?” I called out, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I wiped the sweat from my brow.

“You fell like a pro,” she teased, sauntering closer. “At least you didn’t knock anyone else over this time.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I replied dryly, still breathless. “You know, you could’ve cheered me on instead of laughing at me.”

She rolled her eyes, her lips curving into that smirk that made my pulse skyrocket. “And miss out on all this fun? Not a chance!”

“Just keeping you on your toes,” she said lightly, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Besides, someone has to keep you humble.”

With a dramatic flip of her hair, she turned and strutted away like she owned the place, a damn Powerpuff Girl in motion. The sight of her walking away—confident, untouchable—was infuriating and intoxicating all at once.

“Seriously, Zoe?” I called after her, half-joking, half-admiring the sass.

She glanced over her shoulder, that same playful smirk on her lips. “What? You need to work on your recovery skills! See you next time, Captain!”

As I watched her disappear through the exit, Preston shot me a sharp look, eyebrows raised. “Really? My sister is making you laugh now, Thompson?”

I couldn’t help it. I smirked, shaking my head as I recalled the way she’d tasted. The way she’d practically melted against me before pulling away.

“Just remember, she’s my sister, man,” Preston warned again, his voice more serious.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered dismissively. But my thoughts betrayed me as I whispered to myself: What the hell is she doing to me?

“ She’s a fetus,” he added.

A fetus huh?

"A fetus who knows how to use her tongue inside my mouth you mean.’ I said to myself, smirked and shook my head.