Page 130 of The Casanova Complex

Mostly because I’m still floating on my post-blow job high and thinking about how we’re going to win this fucking game tonight.

And I don’t want that fucker to ruin it.

“Just thought I should let you know,” he keeps going, even when I don’t turn around, “I had a real interesting conversation with your girlfriend just now.”

I freeze.

Why the fuck was he talking to Merritt? And when did it even happen?

She was heading up to the stands when I walked into the locker room to suit up. She didn’t mention anything about talking to Gauthreaux.

As much as I want to turn around and knock him the fuck out for even having the audacity to say her name, I exhale, blowing a slow, steady breath out of my nose to stay calm. I try to remember what happened the other night and what Merritt said about how getting a reaction from me is exactly what the fuck he’s looking for.

Slowly, I turn and lift a brow.

His dark eyes seem almost black as his lip curls up into a snarl.

“How about we not do this?” Zach quips from my right, his voice low and steady. “We’re about to go on the ice in the next five fucking minutes, dude. Take this shit somewhere else.”

“Wasn’t fucking talking to you, Babineaux,” Gauthreaux says, never taking his eyes off mine.

“Just fuck off. All I’m here to do is play hockey, and I don’t give a shit what you have to say.” I try to brush past him, checking his shoulder, but as I do, his hand clamps down around my upper arm.

My gaze flicks down to it before I slowly drag my eyes back to him. “Take your goddamn hand off me.”

He smirks, but at least he fucking does it.

Because I’m two seconds from beating his head into the locker behind me.

My patience for this asshole is gone, completely depleted. Actually, I’m not sure I ever really had any to begin with.

“You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

My jaw works, grinding my teeth to fucking dust. “So talk and quit pussyfooting around it,” I say through clenched teeth.

He turns to his locker and grabs his stick, tossing it back and forth between his hands. “You know you’re just her way of getting back at me, right?” He chuckles. “Merritt doesn’t really give a fuck about you. You’re just the next best thing for her to dick ride while she’s trying to piss me off. That’s all you’re good for anyway, from what I hear.”

I step forward, and my voice drops deadly low. “I’m only going to say this once. Watch your fucking mouth when you speak about her. Better yet, just keep her name out your mouth entirely.”

“Remember who had her first,” he says haughtily. “Trust me, I had her fucking everywhere. You’ve got my sloppy fucking seconds, Legros. How’s it feel?”

I’m moving before I can even think it through, acting on pure animal instinct. My chest hits his, forcing him back a step. “Shut the fuck up.”

Red-hot anger unfurls in my chest.

There’s no fucking shot he actually thinks he’s going to get away with saying this shit about her.

But that’s the point.

Fuck.

I clench my jaw, breathing hard through my nose, trying to pull it together and force myself to calm down. To stop letting him bait me into acting.

Gauthreaux grins. “Might not be your girl much longer though.” He lifts his shoulder nonchalantly. “Not after she saw that video I showed her.”

“What are you talking about?” I grit out. “What fucking video?”

He reaches into his pocket and grabs his phone, then taps his screen. “Oh. It turns out we’ve got another mutual acquaintance. A girl you used to hook up with. You don’t remember the video you made with her? Damn, Legros, you make a habit out of not remembering women you hook up with?”