BLAZE: Enemies to Lovers College Hockey Romance by Eddie Cleveland (ebook reader macos .txt) 📕

Blaze stretches his hands up in the air like he couldn’t be less stressed. He doesn’t see me as much of an authority figure. He barely even pays attention to me. “I’ve got a better idea. How about we both just pretend we never saw each other. You enjoy your ass-clown date, and I’ll stay over here at the bar.” There’s no hint of suggestion. It’s a demand. A demand to leave him alone.

“Really? Do we need a repeat of Foxies all over again?” Finally, I get to be the smirky one for once.

Blaze stares. He’s trying to call my bluff. He isn’t the least bit worried that I’m going to interrupt him. A tall, muscular hockey guy in his prime doesn’t find me intimidating. The world is just full of surprises.

“What part are you gonna re-run, Prissy? The part where you threaten to call the coach, announce my age to the whole bar or slip on some baby oil reaching for a stripper pole? ‘Cause if it’s that last one, I have some wardrobe suggestions.” Blaze leans back in his low-back stool, watching me like a Blackjack dealer in Vegas.

Heat rushes me from head to toe, and I have a hard time looking directly at him. It’s distracting. His wild beard. The tattoos across the backs of his hands. Even the way he slumps in his seat is somehow sexy.

“The day I strip for you is the day I die,” I hiss. Back at my table, Damon doesn’t seem to mind that I’m gone. He’s completely absorbed by his phone.

“Aww, c’mon. Don’t be shy. I’ll make you a deal. You strip for me, I strip for you, and we’ll see where it goes. My cock might make you choke a bit, but I promise you won’t die.” Blaze looks proud of himself, like that drink he’s taking is to celebrate his little remark.

“What the hell is your problem…” I start, but he holds up his hand and steamrolls right over me—

—"Listen, Prissy, you can go ahead and do your thing. You’ve got balls to bust, and I won’t stand in your way,” I interrupt her. “There’s a couple things you should know first. Like, if you’re gonna call up Coach Wilson at, what is it? Nine-thirty?” Blaze pulls his buttoned sleeve back and checks his watch. It seems too formal against the chaotic canvas of his tattoos.

“I know for a fact that he’s in bed by nine, but feel free to wake him up about all this.” Blaze watches me closely. He’s toying with me.

“Fine, I will,” I huff.

Hasn’t this guy learned his lesson yet? He can keep pushing me, but I won’t break. I’m not letting him ruin this job for me.

“Before you wake him up, or yell for the bouncer up on the bar, you should know I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh, is that a fact?”

“It is.” He stays calm, even as my annoyance ratchets up my heartbeat and sends my blood pressure soaring.

“I’ve got twenty-one reasons why I’m not going anywhere, and my age is every single one of them.” I’m not sure if it’s possible to smirk with your eyes only, but he seems awfully amused watching me process what he’s saying.

“What? No, you’re not.” I roll my eyes. I expected better than this from him.

Blaze must see the complete disbelief on my face because he pulls out his wallet and slides his ID out with his thumb. “Take a look.” He hands it over.

“Aww, jeez.” I squint at the date, double checking that it hasn’t been altered somehow. Today really is his birthday. “Happy Birthday.” I say it like an apology. It’s as close to one as he’s going to get.

“Yup.” He takes a drink of his beer. “What a milestone.” I’m not sure who he said that last bit to, but it wasn’t me. Blaze kind of stares off for a second.

I remember my twenty-first birthday. My friends all hyped it up, and everyone came over to my dorm with drinks at three in the afternoon. We literally spent all afternoon doing our hair and make-up while getting plastered. I never made it to the club that night.

Instead, I woke up the day after my birthday tucked into my bed, fully dressed. My hair was thoughtfully tied back in a scrunchy for me. There was a puke bucket on the floor beside my bed. Make-up that I never did get out of that pillowcase was streaked everywhere. I missed my own birthday. I passed out from the pre-drinking. I went to plenty of clubs in my day, but I always felt like I ripped myself off with that whole experience.

Blaze might be obnoxious, and cocky, and selfish, and… where was I going with this? The point is, he still deserves a birthday. I’m not going to call his coach. I don’t think I could force him to go home even if I wanted to. I also can’t leave him unattended. If I do, he’ll end up in a viral sex video. Or in jail. Again.

“Fine, you can stay here and celebrate your birthday.”

“Good to see you come to your senses,” he answers.

“Yep, you can join us. Over at my table.”

“You want me to crash your date so you can babysit me on my birthday?” That smile has me second guessing everything. This plan, my date, my job. What else can I do? Letting Blaze run wild on his birthday isn’t an option. “And here I didn’t think you got me a gift.”

8

Harry Douche-Nozzle, the third Blaze

“No, that’s definitely not what I want.” She laughs, but it falls flat when she also looks over at the guy. “I want to finish my date with Holiday Goose Babies then deal with whatever crisis you’re about to start, but life doesn’t play on my terms, I guess.”

“Holiday Goose Babies? You’d tell me if you were in trouble, right? Blink once if this is a hostage situation.”