Pucked Over (Pucked #3)

Lily and Waters share a look. I don’t like the hot feeling in my neck. They laugh.

I can’t hear the rest of the conversation over the music, but Lily and Waters face off against each other. It looks like they’re getting ready to drop the puck, but then they start talking, moving their feet in little stilted circles, making hand gestures.

“What’s going on over there?” Violet asks.

“I’m not sure.” I remind myself that Lily and Waters have known each other their whole lives. They’re like brother and sister, kinda like Miller and Violet, except hopefully not quite as open.

Waters holds out his hand and Lily takes it. They skate down the ice. Together. She doesn’t look at me when she passes; her eyes are glued to Waters’ as they start in on a routine. I glance at Violet, who’s looking at me with something like panic on her face.

I check the ice again. Waters is definitely rusty. He’s an awesome skater, but he’s been in pro hockey for the past six years, so the whole light-on-his-feet business hasn’t been much of a priority. But he’s still more graceful that most of the guys on the ice, and now I get why.

By their third pass, they’ve found their rhythm. Lily skates circles around him and does this incredible spin thing. Then things get serious. They’ve got their hands on each other. His are on her waist and hers on his shoulder. I’m not all that excited about them touching each other.

Their faces are close, and she gives him a nod. I don’t know what it means until Waters lifts her in the air. Her body arcs in this perfect pose. A slapshot of emotions hits me. I’m suddenly sad all over again that she lost her chance at the Olympics. She would’ve been amazing. I’m in awe because she’s damn well gorgeous. I’m also irrationally pissed that Waters is touching her. I recognize the emotion as jealousy. I don’t get to think too much about that, though, because suddenly Violet is elbowing my side.

“Maybe you should get out there. Go get your girl.”

“They’re doing some kind of routine.” I reply evenly, though I feel some level of panic.

“Notice how intimate this routine is. Note how good they are at it?”

“That’s probably because they’ve done it a million times.”

“So you don’t have a problem with the way they’re touching each other, then?”

I glance at her to see whether she’s serious. She looks it. “Do you?”

“They grew up together, so it’s probably fine, right?” She watches them for a few seconds before she asks, “Does Lily bone like she figure skates?”

I open my mouth to tell her I’m not at liberty to say, but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Never mind. I already know the answer to that question. Guys like you don’t go back for repeat sexing if isn’t stellar. I bet she fucks like a goddamn prostitute on steroids. I bet her * is like Fort Knox. Do you think she ever crushed on Alex?”

“I doubt it.”

“Do you know for sure?” she asks.

The real answer is I don’t. I’m guessing. And I’ve already mentally asked myself that question. I open my mouth, but Violet goes on one of her tangents.

“I need to take stripper dance classes so I can move like her. Lily may have small boobs, but she could get a boob job to have ones like mine and try to seduce my man.”

“That’s not going to happen and Lily’s boobs aren’t small.”

She gives me another one of her looks as she stands up and wobbles on her skates.

“It won’t. And they’re nice.”

“Nice and small. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She puts a hand on my shoulder and stares me right in the eye. “Don’t think for a second that I buy you not caring about what’s going on out there, Balls.” She grimaces but doesn’t even thrust once. “I see how you look at her. I was there when you dry-fucked her in my laundry room, and I saw the expression on your face when you made her come. You want to pretend all you’re doing is buddy-fucking, go right ahead, but I see through you like watery jizz. Now help me get on the ice so Alex can show me how to skate.” She clutches my arm. “And I’m glomming onto you, just so you know, not because I want him to be jealous, but because I’m pretty sure I’ll fall flat on my face otherwise.”

I cock a brow.

“Okay, I want him to be a little jealous, but not worried I want to bone you or anything. Because I don’t. Now help me.”

“Don’t worry. I got you.” Violet comes maybe to my shoulder, if that. I thread my arm through hers. There’s no way to avoid brushing the side of her boob; it’s that big. I pretend it’s not happening.

I step out onto the ice first and direct her to hold on to the ledge until she gets her footing. “You’ve never skated before?”

“I’ve skated. I was a kid. All I remember was that I didn’t like it, and I hurt myself, and my mom didn’t make me do it again. I avoided sports. I did math camp instead. Oh, and cooking classes because I love eating.”

Once she gets both feet on the ice, she freezes.

“Okay. Time to let go,” I tell her.

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