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

“Oh, don’t want to get busted for trespassing and breaking in?” She gives me her favorite look, that I-told-you-so smile she reserves just for me.

“No, I don’t want to get busted for bustin’ in you.” Her smile transforms into a flat line, and her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red than the cold already caused.

“You flatter me.” She rolls her eyes.

I hop back up on the wooded wall surrounding the rink and hold out my hand to help her up. We manage to get out onto the sidewalk without raising any suspicions. It feels colder now. Maybe it’s because we’re not protected by the rink wall, or it could have just gotten colder out. I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m not pressed into her, feeling her body heat.  We walk a lot faster the rest of the way around the block, back to her house.

I walk her up to the front step. I’m sort of surprised her mom didn’t turn on the porch light for us, but I’m glad she didn’t. I like the privacy. I cup Prissy’s face and pull her up on her toes, kissing her. She moves back, and it’s hard to think of anything but fucking her when she looks at me like she’s fucking starving and I’m her next meal. Or maybe that’s me who’s ready to eat.

“Do you think we can sneak up to your room?” I murmur.

“No, it would be weird. I’m pretty sure my mom is still up, soooo…”

“I really doubt she’d mind,” I tease her.

Prissy lifts up her phone. “I’m ordering you a car.” She looks like she’s trying not to smile.

“Why don’t you come to my place. I can sneak you into Hector House.”

When your cock is hard and your partner is willing, there’s not a lot of places a guy won’t fuck. I would fuck Prissy against a dumpster right now with zero second thoughts.

“I hate that we don’t have that freedom,” she sighs. “But there’s no way I can risk getting caught at your place. It would be the end of my job.”

“No, you’re right. We can’t do that.” I know this job means a lot to Prissy. Plus, I don’t want to put her in that position anyway. “You know...” I lean into her, putting my hand flat on the wall beside her head. She leans back against the brick, and I bring my mouth to her ear. “I should’ve risked the public indecency charges,” I whisper. Prissy tilts her neck as I kiss it. Her little whimpers are fucking driving me wild.

“You know, I could fuck you right here against the side of the house.” I step into her, and she lifts her ass up from the wall, grinding herself against my hard cock.

“Mmm, I think I’d like that.” Prissy grabs onto my waistband and pulls me into her.

Lights suddenly flood her face, washing out her color and invading our privacy.

“Your car is here,” she whispers.

“Fuck,” I snarl at the driver and give Prissy some space.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She grabs my hand and smiles.

“Tomorrow? Why?” With no practice or game, I can’t think of any reason I’d get a chance.

“I’m coming over for dinner. The girls invited me,” she just nonchalantly mentions.

“Wait, no one told me that.” I frown.

“Why would they? No one knows about us. And it has to stay that way. You can’t be acting all soft with me.” She grins.

“What part of this is soft?” I guide her hand to my cock. The way she looks down at the front of my pants, like it pains her to say goodbye… to my cock, that’s a lot to walk away from. Fuck. “You don’t worry about me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I give her a quick kiss and leave her at the front of her place as I get in the car.

Prissy gives a wave to me, and I lift my hand back as we drive away.

Fuck, I need to jerk off.

25

Tired Traditions Priscilla

Etta stirs the gravy while she checks the meat thermometer. It’s poking out of the most perfect roast turkey I’ve ever seen. The outside is perfectly brown and crackly. It smells amazing. She seems frazzled, not that I blame her. This meal is like something you’d eat at Thanksgiving. Even with Kaylee and Hattie’s help, there’s no way this didn’t take her all day.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” I know I’ve asked about ten times, but standing here with a glass of Sprite in my hands while Etta runs around the kitchen at Hector House like a contestant on a cooking show just feels wrong.

“Nah. I’ve pretty much got it. Besides, you’re a guest,” she refuses. Again. “If anyone should be helping out, it’s the ass-clowns in the living room.” She yells the last part down the hall. I doubt they hear her over their own hollering. Apparently, heading off to the Frozen Four tomorrow isn’t enough. They’ve been whittling each other down in a hockey video-game tournament all afternoon.

“In your face!” Gucci’s voice rises above the rest.

“Lucky shot,” another voice, Griz’s I think, calls out.

“This whole meal is for them.” Etta squints down at the thermometer and nods approvingly at the number. “And you can see how much that really weighs on them.”

“It’s basically a tradition now, isn’t it?” Kaylee pushes her glasses up her nose.

“It feels that way,” Etta agrees.

I don’t ask Blaze much about his friends. Most of what I’ve put together has been from talking to the girls. I know that Etta grew up in a hockey household. With Griz as her older brother and Gucci as a boyfriend, she’s been living and breathing hockey for a long time. Things like lucky socks and play-off beards are as common in her life as the changing seasons are for anyone else. This big dinner sounds like it’s one of those superstitions.

Griz’s girlfriend, Hattie, pulls a pile of