My jaw drops, and my brain skips like an old CD.
My mental stutter comes right while I’m handling the puck past a Michigan defender. He’s easily able to take advantage ofmy lapsed attention and snag the puck from me, racing off to our goal. He’s feet away from me before I even have the wherewithal to react.
We’re in a bad position to respond to a stolen puck, so he’s able to slide it past Felix and put Michigan on the scoreboard.
I shake my head, disappointed in myself.
Despite my blunder, 2-1 is the score on the board when time expires, and we walk away with a win. Coach gives me a mild tongue lashing, and the rest of the guys clown on me a bit in the locker room, but all’s well that ends well. My mind is somewhere else through it all, though.
I need to see Carmen. After all, she’s responsible for my screw-up out there.
I quickly trap her in my arms when I see her. She’s wearing something different than what she arrived at the arena in, and my eyes eat up the sight.
“Fucking hell, Carmen,” I say, huffing a laugh. “You have to warn me if you’re going to change into my jersey mid-game.”
It almost physically hurts to step away from her, but my desire to see my team’s logo on my girl’s chest narrowly beats out my desire to feel her pressed against me. Momentarily, at least.
I can feel the feral look burning in my eyes as I take in the sight. My cock is already twitching while I let my hands drop and say, “Turn around. Real slow.”
If she were in the mood to humiliate me, she could make me beg right now. I’d do it. I’d drop to my knees right here and beg her to turn around so I can see what I’m dying to see. No questions asked, and I wouldn’t feel an ounce of shame.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she obliges. I stifle a groan of satisfaction when I see my last name branded on her back. My heart thrums in my chest.
“Fuck, Carmen,” I say breathlessly, before gathering her back in my arms and pressing a kiss to her lips. “That might be the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
She giggles. “But I have to warn you next time?”
“When I noticed, my mind went blank, and I gave up the puck. I need time to prepare myself to make sure my brain doesn’t turn into mush when I see you in that.”
Her eyes roll. “Stop, you’re exaggerating.”
I shake my head. “Not a bit. Seriously. If you’re going to wear my jersey to a game, let me know so I’m not blindsided and lose the ability to think. At this point in the season, we need every win we can get.”
“It can’t really be that hot to see someone with your name on their back?”
“If it’s the right person …” my hands trace her curves. Curves that I’ve recently traced with my lips and tongue. “It is.”
A warm pink tint spreads over her cheeks. “Now I kind of wish I played a sport and could see someone wearing my name on their back. I wonder if it would have the same effect.”
“There’s been talk of adding a women’s hockey team to the sports program. You could try out.”
She huffs a laugh. “I’ll pass.”
One of my eyebrows arches. Playing college hockey probably isn’t the right move for Carmen, I’ll grant that. But I am getting another idea …
38
CARMEN
Shifts at the café usually go by quickly for me, but for the past couple hours, I’ve been counting down the minutes. Soon, I might start counting down the seconds.
It’s not like anything’s going badly today. It’s just that, about a quarter of the way into my eight-hour shift, I got a sudden flash of inspiration for how to start my next chapter while cleaning the coffee carafes.
Now I’m itching to get home and make progress on a chapter that’s held me up for days.
I feel like once I finish this chapter, the end of my book will be in view. Confidence charges through me. For the first time, actually finishing this book feels like something that’sgoingto happen, rather than a hope.
It’s a bit of an irony that this round of writer’s block hit me during the least sexually frustrated week of my life.
