Page 72 of Pucking Forbidden

My breath catches. I don’t understand the warm, heavy feeling pooling in my stomach, or why my chest suddenly feels so tight, but I can’t look away. I’m paralyzed by the way he’s looking at me.

It’s only when he finally skates into line with the rest of the team that I can breathe again, my face burning as I sink back into my seat, my heart hammering a chaotic rhythm against my ribs.

As the team finishes their initial laps around the ice, the blaring arena music transitions into a heavy, rhythmic bass line. The Night Hawks head toward our section of the glass, dropping down onto the ice to begin their pre-game stretches.

Because the universe has decided to test my sanity tonight, Julian skates right up to our exact spot.

He moves backward, stopping just inches from the partition, and drops into a deep side-lunge. He plants his blades, and then he begins to work his hip flexors, his massive hips driving forward and down in a slow, rhythmic pulsing motion that looks entirely too explicit for a crowded arena. He is practically humping the ice right in front of my face.

Up close, it’s overwhelming. He is so near I can hear the sharp, metallic scrape of his blades digging into the ice with every heavy thrust of his weight. His massive, six-foot-four frame is bent right in front of me, his long, dark curly hair peeking out from under his helmet, already damp with early sweat.

I swallow, heat blooming low in my belly. He’s more flexible than I would’ve guessed…and as his hips sink lower, driving down again and again, I become painfully aware of how tight his hockey pants stretch across his ass.

Beside me, a collective, low murmur ripples through our row.

“Oh, my…” Skyler mutters under her breath, her eyes wide as she watches Carson.

“Right?” Rylee chimes in, leaning forward, gaze locked on Zander. “Best part of every single warmup.”

“Thank God we got us extra hotel rooms for this trip,” Sutton giggles as she drinks in Jayce. “Because after watching him do that, there is no way our men are sharing rooms tonight.”

I can feel Skyler and Grace nudging each other in agreement, but I can't look at them. I can barely breathe. My fingers grip the edge of my seat as Julian slowly winks at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before he pushes off the ice and skates back toward the team.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: THE KINGSMEN

HADLEY

The game is aggressive from the second the puck drops.

The Kingsmen come out hard and fast, like they’ve spent the entire offseason stewing over the last two years. Hits slam into the boards hard enough to rattle the glass in front of us, the sound sharp and violent through the arena. Their passes are tighter than I remember, cleaner too, and there’s a recklessness underneath it all that makes the entire rink feel tense.

Like one wrong move could turn the game into a fight. Julian and the guys aren’t the type of team to lead with violence, but they’re not afraid to get rough when necessary. It doesn’t seem like the Kingsmen are the same. They’re not just playing to win…they’re out for blood.

“They picked up new players,” Grace mutters beside me, leaning forward in her seat. “Look at that line.”

I follow her gaze. Two players cut across the ice together, moving almost perfectly in sync. One drives forward aggressively. The other hangs back just enough to anticipate the next move before it happens. They don’t even need to look at each other.

“They’re the Winthrop twins,” Grace explains. “Ledger and Asher. Got recruited together from Toronto, and there’s been a crazy amount of buzz about them.”

“Are they really that good?” Sutton asks, glancing over.

“On the ice? Vicious,” Rylee says, nodding. “Off the ice? They’re a public relations nightmare. ICON has been practically begging them for a cover feature for The Athlete’s Edit for months, and they keep denying us. They deny everyone. Apparently, they've shot down massive modeling contracts too, which is a tragedy because, honestly? They are staggeringly gorgeous in a dark, brooding, villainous sort of way.” Rylee shrugs, flashing a loyal smile. “I mean, obviously they don’t hold a candle to Zander, but still. The league is obsessed with them.”

I can understand why.

The Kingsmen used to rely heavily on their captain and goalie, Riot Forbes, to carry games when things got tight, but now, the twins add speed and aggression in a way that changes the entire rhythm of the team. They push the pace constantly, forcing pressure every time the Night Hawks touch the puck.

The first hit of the game comes less than two minutes in.

Ledger drives Jensen hard into the boards near center ice, and the crowd erupts into a deafening mix of booing and cheering.

Jensen shoves back, but the refs step in before it escalates.

“Jesus,” Grace mutters.

“Right?” Skyler chips in, adjusting her glasses with a look of professional appreciation. “Pretty sure Ledger just hit him with a fully charged heavy attack. If Jensen had a health bar floating over his head right now, it would be blinking red, and a disembodied voice would be yelling, Finish him.”

The Night Hawks don’t lose structure, thankfully. Even when the Kingsmen try to drag things into chaos, the Night Hawks stay controlled. They reset quickly, communicate constantly, and shift together across the ice like a unit.