Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance by Jami Davenport (classic novels to read .txt) 📕

We wandered over to a group of guys hanging out under the stars and chilled with them for over an hour. I needed to chill. My bro put me on edge. I itched to put my fist into his smug face. Over the years, we’d had our brotherly spats but always gotten over them fast. Not like what was going on now. This wall between us sucked.

Lex shot me a sideways glance. “You’re way too serious for being at a party.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry.”

“Loosen up, Pax. Have some fun. Forget about your shit for one night.”

I nodded and did some deep breathing while rubbing my crystal. “Good advice from a good friend,” I admitted.

“Naomi’s wandering around alone. You might want to stake a claim since she dissed your bro.” Lex winked at me. “That reminds me, gotta find my girl.” He wandered off to look for Kaitlyn, leaving me bored and freezing my ass off. I headed inside for a little heat and another beer and maybe another glimpse of Naomi in her peasant blouse.

I stopped to talk to Tate, Michael, and Jonah hovering over a table loaded with food. When I realized they were discussing last night’s game, I dumped that convo and moved on. A couple sophomore girls eyed me, giggling as I walked by. Probably trying to decide if I was Patrick or not, I thought bitterly.

I had to get over this bullshit with my brother. Our problems were as much my fault as his. We were all we had when it came down to it, and I hated the wedge between us.

I scanned the crowd, disappointed in not seeing Naomi. For that matter, I didn’t see Patrick either. My mind churned with the possibilities, making me a little crazy. She’d turned him down. She wouldn’t change her mind. Right?

Hell if I knew.

I grabbed another beer, not wanting to ruin my good buzz, and ducked around the corner. I sat down on one of the couches and watched the action, attempting to amuse myself with who was hooking up with whom.

“Hey.”

At the sound of that heavenly voice that lived in my dreams, my head snapped around. Naomi the serving wench, in that delectable low-cut top, smiled down at me.

“Hi,” I answered with a slow smile. My gaze slipped to her cleavage, and I forced myself to look up. One glance at those breasts begging to be set free while knowing what was underneath, and I was hard as a puck.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Naomi dropped onto the couch next to me, sitting way too close for comfort.

“I’m Paxton,” I teased, even though I was half-serious.

“I know.”

“Just checking.”

“Don’t blame you.” She sounded close to sober for someone I’d seen throwing back shots earlier. “I thought you looked lonely.”

“I’m not.” My voice was harsh, and she flinched, making me feel like the ass I was.

“Well, I am.”

“In this room crammed with people?”

“Yeah, because none of them are you.” She turned to capture my gaze, and I lost myself in her beautiful eyes.

Had she really just said that?

I stiffened and looked away. I didn’t want her to say shit she didn’t mean, because it gave me hope, and hope would eventually break my heart. My brother was AWOL, and I was second-best. I wasn’t settling for being second-best again, not even where she was concerned.

“Dance with me.” Naomi grabbed fistfuls of my sweatshirt and leaned into me. My nostrils flared as I breathed in the heady scent of her. Her touch made me forget my vow not to be her second choice—almost. I mounted a resistance, as futile as it might be.

“You’re drunk,” I hedged.

“Tipsy.”

“Aren’t you here with my brother?”

“I was, but I lost him.”

“On purpose?”

She shot me a secretive smile. “Maybe.”

“He’s probably passed out. Last I saw him, he was feeling no pain.”

“He’s in no shape to dance. Dance with me.” She didn’t wait for a response but grabbed my hand and tugged. Her stubborn expression didn’t bode well for refusing. Short of making a scene, I’d have to appease her. I stood and let her drag me to the packed makeshift dance floor.

She stumbled over the feet of someone next to us, but I caught her to my chest. She gazed up at me like hapless females do in romantic movies. Not that I watched many romantic movies, but there’d been times I’d been forced to do so. Personally, I didn’t see myself as much of a romantic.

Naomi draped herself over my body, and I held her as we shuffled around the dance floor. There wasn’t room for much else. She felt so right in my arms, like skating off the ice after a hard-fought game to find the person who grounds you. Memories that flooded me of our night of bliss followed by extreme humiliation should have poured water on my flames but didn’t. Her closeness rendered me powerless to resist.

She nuzzled my neck, sliding her lips across my skin. I turned my head to nuzzle her jaw. Purely a reaction without thought. I just did it. Didn’t think. Just did. She tilted her head until our mouths were inches apart. Inches from heaven. Inches from what I’d wanted long before I’d first tasted her lips. And once I’d had that first taste, I craved more, like a junkie craved his next fix. She was my fix, and I needed her and fuck the long-term repercussions.

Our lips met. Mine were reluctant. Hers were determined. Our eyes locked, and my world turned upside down and inside out. I existed in a bubble with her and only her. Her body melded to mine, and we swayed, locked together in body, mind, and soul.

“Naomi,” I whispered huskily.

“Pax,” she sighed into my mouth, making me groan. I wanted her. All of her. My dick ached to be inside her. My body ached to be naked with her. I ached just to have her as mine.

“Pax, take me home with you.” She kissed