Page 9 of Three Hockey Hotties

Not that I date. I tell myself I don’t have time because I’m focused on getting called up but the truth is the girls I find attractive find me…formidable.

I’m big. Everywhere. And I have a hard time being friendly. I don’t like to fake things. I don’t like when other people fake things either. So, I come off as, okay, an asshole sometimes.

I turn to Kane to see his reaction to my invoking the bro code. I can tell he likes Abby too so he might push back.

But he looks more excited than anything else. “How about a party pack?”

I frown. “What? What the hell does that mean?”

That’s not part of the code.

Am I going to have to spell it out more clearly?

“One of those combo packs with cheeseburgers for more than one person. Enough food for both you and me,” he pauses, “something we share.”

No, it’s him who is spelling it out more clearly.

He’s saying…

Holy shit.

All the blood in my head rushes straight down to my dick.

“Seriously? Share?”

He nods. “I know we’ve never…but Dash. This girl.”

“Do you think she would…?” I murmur under my breath, not wanting Abby to hear. I hate that we’re talking in food terms, but I’m glad we didn’t wait to have this conversation.

“Only one way to find out. We’ll have to ask her. But first, let’s make sure she’s comfortable.”

Abby pauses in front of the double doors to the main rink and sips from her water bottle. Her tongue flicks over the straw, which twists my gut. She’s so damn sexy and she doesn’t even know it.

If I’m normally at a loss for words, now I have none. The idea of me and Kane pleasuring Abby at the same time is a fucking fantasy I never knew I had.

Actually, I know that wasn’t a fantasy of mine. Until her.

Kane shoves open the door and holds it open for Abby.

“There are three main operational rules: Offsides, icing, and penalties,” he tells her. “We can get into what all that means bit by bit but if you just throw those words around, you’ll already sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

She nods, listening intently. She looks around the rink.

I feel a surge of pride. I love hockey and this place is my home away from home.

Abby lifts her phone and takes a few pictures. She focuses in on our team logo emblazoned on the scoreboard.

“The Mutts have been the feeder team for the Racketeers for thirty years,” Kane says. “Every single one of us on the team is fighting for our chance to get to the big leagues. So we play scrappy.”

“Is that what you want too?” Abby says, eyeing me. “To play for the Racketeers?”

I nod firmly. “Hell, yeah. That’s the ultimate goal. No pun intended.”

Abby gives a little giggle.

It makes me feel like I won the damn lottery. I’ve never been considered the funny one. My chest might even puff up a little.

“Can we do any part of the event on the ice?” Abby asks.