Clipped by Love (Bellevue Bullies #2) (6 page)

P
ushing my shoulder into Jude’s chest, I carry the puck around him before shooting hard toward the goal. But instead of hitting the pipe like I wanted to, I hit it in. That would have been ideal if there were a goalie, but since it’s one-on-one, Sinclair-style street hockey, our goal is to hit the pipe.

“You suck,” Jace calls at me, and I scoff.

“I suck? I can shoot circles around you, you cocky little shit.”

“Both of y’all suck,” Jude decides, getting the puck and skating out to the line we drew with pink spray paint. Hey, it was the only thing we could find in the condo we rented. Since we can play hockey with a sock wrapped in tape, the pink spray paint doesn’t bother us a bit. “Now, watch how it’s done.”

Squaring off, I watch as Jude does some fancy-schmancy stick work, and I’m ready to block him while Jace yawns beside me.

“Just because you’re in the NHL doesn’t mean you’re good,” he calls out at him. Jude laughs and cuts left, trying to go around me, but out of nowhere comes Jace, taking the puck back to the pink line, a smug little grin on his face. “Man, if I can steal off you in some street hockey, how are you gonna survive in the NHL? I think they should have left you for the fifth pick,” Jace taunts, and I can’t help but laugh. They are both such smack-talkers—not that I’m any better. I’m an asshole too, but at least I choose the right time to do it. These two are always going at it.

“Jace, let’s remember who made it into the draft and who didn’t,” Jude says, taking a low blow at him, and even I cringe.

I know that it still stings Jace that he didn’t get to go into the draft. Even with being one of the highest-scoring high school players in the league, they wanted to mold him a little more before throwing him in the draft. Our agent blames it on the fact that he never played for the junior team like Jude and I did. Mom didn’t want to let him since he was playing travel and high school hockey so much. Our dad tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t budge. We always tease him and say it’s because he’s the baby, but there is truth behind the teasing.

Unlike Jace, we didn’t get babied. We were off playing hockey all over the damn place. He actually got to hang out with Mom and be spoiled. Sometimes, I wished I could have traded places with him. He’s very oblivious to everything. Me, I could have seen the signs that my dad was a cheating bastard and maybe prepared my mom a bit. Or called out the situation. Instead, everything blew up in our faces, and because of that, I really don’t think any of us will ever be the same.

But I still try to have hope we will.

Jude will marry Claire, I’ll make the draft this year with Jace, probably, and hopefully Lucy will find a man. But even that scares me because then my mom will be alone. She’s always had one of us with her or had my dad, but if Lucy leaves, she’ll have no one. It’s all so nerve-racking, and I know I shouldn’t worry as much as I do—I have to life my own life—but it’s hard not to. My mom is a really great mom, and I wouldn’t be who I am without her. I want to give her the world, but first, I’ve got to get into the NHL.

This year is my year. I know it is, and the great thing is that I’ll have Jace with me. I always thought it would be Jude and me going back-to-back in the draft, but going with Jace won’t be so bad. I know it will make my mom proud too. She cried so hard when Jude made it. I think we all did. We were just so proud, and I want my family to experience that with me and Jace. It’s going to happen. I can feel it.

In the meantime though, I’m gonna kick my brothers’ asses in some Sinclair street hockey.

Training my eyes on the puck, I grin as Jace slides the puck between his legs, bringing it back around before trying to deke around Jude. He’s cocky as always, and I know his next move. So when he then goes to spin the puck around to shoot left of Jude, I’m there, taking the puck back to the line, ignoring the cussing he’s giving me.

“Motherfucking cheater!”

“How?” I laugh, shaking my head as I carry the puck in, watching Jude out of the corner of my eye. He’s a sneaky little shit. Being the biggest out of all of us, I call them both little, but that’s not the case. Jude’s almost my size and older, but to me, he’s a little shit and Jace is a nugget shit.

Glancing at Jace, I grin. “You’re such a crybaby. What are you going to do, go call Mom next?”

“Fuck you,” he sneers.

I laugh. “Fine, I’m calling Mom and telling her you said the F word.”

“I’m so gonna fuck you up,” he says, trying to keep his eyes on the puck but also on me, giving me his angry eyes while I just laugh.

“Do you hear the mouth on this kid?” I call to Jude, who is smirking.

“He gets it from you,” Jude calls back at me, but I scoff.

“The fuck he does,” I say, turning with the puck to give myself some room to find a shot.

“Hey, guys!”

The sound of a girl’s voice has all three of us stopping to look to the right where the voice came from. It’s the girl from the beach, Delanie.

“Hey!” Jace says, going over to greet her, which leaves me wide open.

Shooting the puck, I throw my arms up when I hear the clink of the puck against the pipe, and I grin so big when Jace yells, “Hey!”

Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “What? You didn’t call time out, asshole.”

Jude scoffs as he reaches for the puck and says, “You sure didn’t. He’s beating you now.”

He then sends the puck to me as I line up along the pink line. I wasn’t going to wait for him; if he wants to blow the game off for a girl, that’s on him. I’m here to win, but before I can push off and start for the goal, a voice stops me.

“Can I play?”

Cutting my gaze to the voice, I’m stunned. When I saw her on the beach, I was mainly curious since she was staring at me. But she never came up to talk to me like her friend had. Since I didn’t want to look desperate, and also because I’m not looking for a relationship or hookup, I stayed away. But now, looking at her, I’m a bit speechless.

She’s fucking hot.

Her hair is a soft blondish brown, all thick and sexy back in a braid. Her eyes are a sweet hazel color, a color that I can’t decide if it’s more green or brown. She has a nice nose too, beautiful plump lips, and high cheekbones, giving her face sharp, stimulating angles. Her shoulders are thick, more muscular than I am usually attracted to, but hell, she works it. As my eyes travel down her body, I take in her short shorts that show off her delectable thighs and then her thick calves. I can tell she works out, and for some odd reason, that turns me the fuck on.

Which is really weird.

Usually I like small, cute women who are soft and sweet. Being a big guy, I like my girls smaller than me, but this girl is probably only a couple inches shorter than my six three. And there is something in her eyes—or body, hell, I’m not sure—but the point is she’s got my pistols pumping. Got me all twisty inside, and suddenly hooking up for the weekend doesn’t seem like that bad of an idea.

As long as it’s with her.

When Delanie smacks her friend softly in the thigh, my brows go up as she glances at her and waves her off. She then leans in, and I swear I hear her say something about it only being roller hockey. But that doesn’t make sense to me and I want to know what she means.

Looking back at Jace, she asks, “Do you have extra skates?”

He scoffs. “You want to play with us?”

She nods, and I don’t miss the confidence in the way she squares her shoulders. “Yeah.”

“Hockey?”

She nods again. “Ugh, yeah.”

“But you’re wearing shorts,” Delanie points out.

And thank God for that
, I think as I mentally lick up those naughty, thick thighs.

“So? I’m good,” she says, waving her off. “I’ll need a stick too.”

Jace looks back at us, and I can see that he is confused. It’s very rare that a girl, besides our sister, wants to play with us. We are kind of intimidating together.

With a grin, he asks, “I don’t care if you guys don’t.”

With the chance of rubbing up against her to keep the puck away, yeah, I don’t care at all. The fact she wants to play does something to me. Causes my heart to beat a bit faster and my hands to sweat unexpectedly. I know it isn’t the heat either. It’s her.

“What size do you wear?” I ask, finding my voice as I drink her in. She’s wearing the bikini from earlier under the Beatles tank she has on. I want to be a jerk and say she can’t play without taking off her shirt, but I’m sure that would be frowned upon. Plus, if Claire found out that Jude was involved in playing hockey with a chick in only a bikini, she’d skin him. And me, since I suggested it.

“Ten,” she says, and I like her voice. It isn’t sweet and soft, it’s tough and has meaning. She knows what she wants and it’s refreshing.

I nod. “Yeah, here,” I say, skating to our bag. We all have extra pairs of skates since we are so rough on ours. I reach for the skates and turn to hand them to her, happy that she followed me over here. “You can wear Jace’s. He’s got baby feet.”

She grins and I find myself grinning back. She has a sweet smile. One that can knock a guy on his ass, and surprisingly, almost knocks me on mine.

Taking the skates from me, she asks, “Do you have socks?”

I glance down at her feet, seeing that she is wearing rubber flip-flops, her toes painted a lime color. Cute.

Tearing my gaze from them, I reach back down for a pair of socks and smile back at her.

“They stink.”

She shrugs. “No biggie.”

I eye her as she drops the skates and then to her ass to put them on. She isn’t like other girls, and the more she talks, the more I want her naked. Watching as she quickly laces them up, I have a feeling she’s done this before. Crossing my arms as I balance on my stick, I ask, “You play?”

She glances up at me, her eyes sparkling as she shrugs. “A bit.”

“I have to say, I’m impressed.”

She grins as she ties the other skate up quickly. Getting up with ease, she reaches for one of my sticks that is laying across the bag. She leans into the stick, testing its curve and then looks back at me. “You haven’t even seen me play yet.”

“True, but not too many girls want to play hockey with a bunch of big dudes, in short shorts.”

Still grinning, she holds my gaze. “Think my shorts are short?”

Before I can even think, I say roughly, “Oh yeah.”

Coming close to me, she asks, “So you’ve been looking?”

Leaning into her, I don’t understand the pull, but it’s there. I’ve always heard of instant chemistry—hell, it happened between Claire and Jude—but I never really thought it would happen to me. But with this girl, I think it’s happening. Either that or the fact I haven’t been laid in six months is finally taking its toll.

Looking deep into her eyes, I nod. “Yeah, and believe me, I will every chance I get.”

Skating back a bit, her tongue comes out, wetting her lips as she nods her head. I’m completely in a trance, watching as her arms flex as she plays with the stick, her eyes still locked with mine. “So I have to watch out for you then?”

“Maybe,” I say with a wink.

She perks her lips out, and hot damn, I can’t help but think she’s gonna kiss me as she comes toward me. She has the look in her eyes. The one that can cause damage, but instead, she takes the puck, going around me like a fucking pro and shoots the puck, hitting the pipe smack-dab in the middle.

Speechless, I look from the net to the pink line where she is fucking standing and then meet her gaze. She stands there like it’s no big fucking deal that she just scored from our pseudo blue line. Did that just fucking happen?

“Wait, what just happened?” Jude asks, pointing from the net to her.

“I think she just fucking scored,” Jace says, his face full of shock like mine. “From the line.”

“Yeah, that’s how, right? Hit the pipe?” she asks innocently. “Or was I supposed to get it in the net?”

“No, you’re right. I just can’t believe you scored,” Jace says, still visibly dumbfounded.

“Oh, awesome,” she says with a grin, leaning down to test the blade of the stick again. She then reaches for one of the other sticks, doing the same. She is obviously satisfied better with the new one and looks at me expectantly. Tilting my head to the side, I replay what just happened and then what she is doing right now. I see Delanie shaking her head almost like she is embarrassed, her sister doing the same, covering her face, and I know that something is up. I start to chuckle as I skate to the net, getting the puck and then sending it to her, hard. When she stops it with ease, I know this girl is a big fat liar.

“Play a bit, huh?”

She eyes me as she shrugs. “Just a bit.”

But once we start playing, I know I’m right. We give her a little room, not trying to crowd her and be assholes, but once she scores again and then again, I know she plays more than a bit. I go to cover her, but Jace cuts in front of me, going for the puck. But she steals it back, goes through my legs, then through fucking Jude’s and shoots, scoring for a fourth time in a row.

Glaring at her as she innocently skates back to the pink line, I decide I’m over having our asses handed to us.