Page 12 of Pucking Rebound
Usually full of laughter, tonight gutted me when I saw her crying.
Graham doesn’t deserve her.
Sometimes, when I see her car parked at the arena, I’ll find an excuse to visit the main administration offices. A sixty-second fix of Lola’s positivity is enough to power my entire day and always helps me perform better in the gym for some unfathomable reason. It's weird how this tiny girl packs more punch than the world’s strongest coffee.
I point to the sign above the door. “It’s time to let all of that rage out without going to prison.” I pull the door handle and leap out of my truck to find her hesitantly sitting in place. “I promise it will make you feel so much better. You can imagine it’s Graham’s balls you’re smashing.”
Quicker than a bullet train, she’s standing on the curbside.
I smile smugly, knowing that would convince her.
Looking up at the night sky, I say, “It’s snowing heavier now. We might not be able to stay for the full hour.”
“I don’t care, as long as I get to smash something that feels like Graham’s testicles… and let’s not forget Nicole’s face too.”
CHAPTER THREE
Jordy
“Take that, Mr. Small Dick.” Lola hurls the sledgehammer that’s almost the same size as her, from over her shoulder and pummels it straight into a television.
I let out a “hell yeah”when the screen splinters. “Show him, Lola.”
Dropping the sledgehammer to the floor, she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. “That one felt good.”
“One for the road?”
“Okay.” Tongue peeking out the side of her mouth, she looks around in search of her next victim. She grabs the baseball bat that’s leaning against the wall and then picks up an oversized glass vase on the way. I try not to laugh as she struggles with the trousers of the blue boiler suit issued to her when we came in. Even rolled up, they are still too long, and she has to keep pulling them up. In comparison, mine are three inches too short, making them look like flood pants.
“Give it everything you’ve got.” I cheer her on as she places the ornate vase on top of a pedestal and then takes a step backward.
Readjusting her safety goggles, she lowers the additional Perspex mask for extra protection as she gets into position.
Looking like a professional baseball player, legs wide, she bends her knees slightly, brings the bat over her shoulder, shifts her weight back and forth from foot to foot, then shouts at the top of her little lungs, “This is for all the lying cheating exes everywhere. Especially for you, Graham. Take this, asshole.”
My dick thickens, watching her pummel the glass vase into smithereens, propelling the shards at the opposite wall, in what looks like a one-hundred-mile-an-hour strike.
Fuck me, she looks hot when she’s angry.
I holler, “That’s my girl,” not meaning to, then follow with a longwhoop whoopand punch the air to cover up my slip of the tongue.
She drops the bat, causing it to clatter against the concrete floor, and shoves her hands above her head, cheering. “Lola, one, deadbeat ex, nil.”
With my ass resting on the partially smashed-up wooden side unit, I clap my hands in applause.
She rushes over, catching me off guard when she stands between my legs and throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Thank you for this, Jordy.”
I’m momentarily startled at being this close to her again. “You’re welcome.” I gulp, not knowing where to put my hands.
“Oh,” she gasps as she brushes against my very apparent erection.
Fuck.
Aw, screw it.I admit what she does to me. “Watching you smash stuff up was a fucking turn on. You look hot when you’re angry.”
Her chuckling chest vibrates against mine.
Leaning back, she rests her arms on top of my shoulders. “Really?”
