Page 76 of Playing the Player

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Sasha

I love hockey. If you had told me a year ago that I’d willingly spend my evenings and weekends sitting in a freezing arena where my nipples could cut through the ice while I scream at grown men on skates, I would have laughed in your face.

Now though? If the Flames are playing at home, I’m there. I’m basically the world's most supportive fake girlfriend.

Olivia is still working as the team photographer part-time, which means tonight, she gets to sit in the stands with me. We are always offered the family box, but being in the stands is so much more fun. The atmosphere is electric. Every hit shakes the glass. The screams of the fans are loud enough to burst ear drums, and the smell is… well it’s not great but it’s all a part of the appeal.

Our team is playing well tonight, but those other bastards are roughing it up, making it almost impossible for our boys to get anywhere near the net. “What is wrong with these refs tonight? They’re useless.” I say to Olivia, who’s nursing a giant tub of popcorn on her lap. “Open your fucking eyes! He was clearly off-side!” I scream down at the linesmen but even if they could hear me, they probably wouldn’t understand what I’m saying because they’re so fucking stupid.

“You having fun, babe?” Liv asks around a mouthful of popcorn.

“I really am.” We laugh together just as Conor gets back on the ice, a determined look on his sexy face. God, watching him play is amazing. He’s so hot and focused and sweaty. It’s such a turn on. I want to lick every inch of that man clean when he gets home tonight. He deserves it after that goal he scored.

Hopefully he’ll score again later and put his puck in my net. I chuckle to myself at the thoughts swirling around in my head but my stomach flutters, my pussy throbs and I can feel my cheeks heating even though it’s cold as balls in here.

“What’s so funny?” Olivia asks, a curious look on her face.

I bite back my grin. “Nothing.”

Conor skates around the ice with so much ease. It’s like it's his second home. There are no thoughts behind his every move, just pure instinct and muscle memory.

Josh takes the puck down the ice before passing it off to Daniel Michaelson. At the same time Daniel hits the puck towards the goal, a gigantic beast of a man bulldozes towards Conor, shoving him with everything that he's got.

It feels like all the air leaves my lungs at the sound of Conor hitting off the boards. It’s deafening and I think I'm the only person in this whole arena who heard it. Everyone else is screaming and banging on the floors and the glass as Daniel scores and the buzzer sounds.

Everyone jumps to their feet. Everyone except me. I’m searching the ice. I can’t see Conor behind the masses of people in front of me, blocking my view of the ice. “Can you see Conor down there?” I ask my best friend who’s cheering beside me. She doesn't seem to hear me, too busy lost in the feeling of our team scoring another goal and evening the score.

The celebration slowly dies down and people begin sitting again. I scan the ice. Josh. Knight. Johnson. Michaelson. Where’s Conor?

God, I feel sick. The Flames are all crowded in one area of the ice, the same area Conor got hit. No one is celebrating anymore. The game has officially stopped and Josh raises his hand, signalling frantically towards the bench. A medic climbs over the boards.

Oh God. No. My stomach bottoms out, falling through my ass as another medic appears.

“I need to get down there.”

Olivia finally looks at me. “Why? What’s going on?” I frantically look around, trying to figure out which side of the row would be quickest to get to Conor. “Jesus, Sash. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

“Conor’s hurt.” I say as more medics rush onto the ice, joining the group of hockey players.

“Don’t panic, Sasha. They get hurt all the time. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Does that look like he’s fine?” I snap at her, too stressed to give a shit. The whole team looks worried, standing back from the medics to give them space to work.

“Come on.” Liv says, standing with me. We squeeze past the other watchers who are eager to know what’s going on, leaving the arena and racing down the hall to the back of the building. “I have my pass in my bag. We can go down and see what’s happening.”

The adrenaline flows through me and my lungs burn, but I don’t stop running. It feels like hours pass before we finally make it down, Olivia using her pass to get us to where the tunnels begin. “We need to wait here, Sash. You can’t go onto the ice.”

“Like hell I can’t” I march straight past her and towards the rink side.

The arena is deathly silent now, the goal that was just scored long forgotten. A security guard built like a brick wall blocks the entrance. He looks like he’d be more suited to be a prison officer. He’s huge, muscles straining through his clothes, arms folded, wide stance. He looks so intimidating.

Getting closer, I can see the medics working on Conor through the opening of the rink side, but I can’t see him. There are too many people crowded around them, blocking the view from the spectators.

The security guard is so intent on watching the medics that he won’t pay any attention to little old me sneaking past him. Perfect. This is when my height can be used as an advantage. This man is so tall, taller than most of the hockey team on skates, his head is so high up in the clouds that he’ll never see me down here if I sneak past quietly.

I just need to keep low and stay quiet. Light feet, Sash. It’s like I’m on the prowl, my eyes set on my prey before I pounce. I swear, I could be a ninja or something with how stealthily I’m moving-