“… Because of Rockwell, right?”
Cora gave a small nod. “Madison's the captain of the ice girls. Rockwell's the captain of the hockey team. Captain and captain: itshouldbe a match made in heaven, shouldn't it? At least in Madison's mind, it is.”
“Oh, man. I didn't even think of that. She'sconvincedthat I'm fucking him or something.”
“So. You and Rockwell. You're not—” Cora wrapped a fist around her index finger, the universal sign forfucking,“—like Madison's afraid of, are you?”
“No,” I gulped. Guiltily, I sipped my drink through the straw.
Cora, I knew, could tell there was more to the story.
“Okay. Look. He's been flirting with me, but I keep turning him down. I told him he's going to get me in trouble.”
“Smart girl. I don't know if you've realized it yet, but professional athletes are dogs. Thegoodpart about them being dogs? They lose interest the second some other 'piece of meat' catches their eye—trust me, it'll happen. And then Madison will be off your case, too.”
“Wow. Really? You think?”
“That's the way it's always played out the past three years I've been here, anyway.”
I was both disappointed and relieved to hear that. And I bet it showed on my face, too.
Cora frowned sympathetically. “Every girl wants to think thatshe'llbe the one to reform the heart-breaker and end up with the millionaire athlete, right? See, that's what's too bad about it. These guys don't even realize they're fucking with ourheartsand shit. You know? Listen. I guarantee you, tonight, after the game? Our boys will hit the club scene in Montreal, on the prowl for women, just like always.”
My heart sunk. “Yeah? You think so?”
“That's what theydowhen they're on the road, Honor. Like I said: dogs.”
“Madison said something about the girl I replaced—Allison. Do you know anything about her?”
“Well, yeah. I got to know her. She was cool.” Cora took a sip from her drink, and thenIknew there was more to the story.
“But then?”
“But then she and Madison had some kinda fight. I don't really like to get involved in the gossip and hearsay, but you can probably guess—”
“Hunter,” I concluded.
Cora clucked her tongue and wagged her finger at me. “Mm-hm.”
Great. To think I even let him kiss me. I'm so dumb.
We both turned and glared at the TV, where the Blizzard took to the ice for the opening faceoff. The camera zoomed in on Hunter's face as he readied himself. For the game that he was dedicating to me, apparently.
But could I even trust that? I wondered how many other women might be tuning into the game, all excited and thinking he was playing just forthem.
“It's really too bad he can't settle down,” Cora mused, “because he sure is a handsome devil.”
Chapter 12:
Always Gets Me in Trouble
Rockwell
We were sweaty, banged up, and tired as we marched our way back to the visitor's dressing room in Montreal. But let me tell ya. We never felt better. And thesilenceof that Montreal building as we left the ice was the sweetest thing I'd heard all year.
We'd clobbered Montreal, 7-0. We were at their throats from the opening draw, and we never let up, either. I had one goal, five assists, and several huge hits.
In the dressing room, the boys hooted. Nothing brought a team together like the jokes and good feeling in a dressing room after a big win. Plus, in a 7-0 game, a lot of guys get involved in the offense—so the cheer sure gets spread around.
