Puck Block : A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

The Velcro of my bowtie draws my teammates’ attention over to me, which I’ll admit, I enjoy. Theo stares at me from across the locker room in nothing but a towel.

“What?” I ask.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

I pull the white glove onto my hand and wiggle my fingers before leaning down into my locker and pulling the chauffeur’s hat out of my bag and placing it on my damp hair.

“For fuck’s sake,” Emory mumbles, coming to a complete stop. “You’re ridiculous.”

I grin while running my hands over my black suit. “You don’t think Taytum will appreciate it?”

I know for a fact she’s going to be beyond irritated with me, which is the only reason I ordered the costume in the first place. In fact, we weren’t even out of the hospital yet, and I already had it on the way.

Emory snorts. “I think she’s going to punch you in the face.”

I grab my bag. “She will threaten it, as always, but she wouldn’t dare touch this masterpiece.”

The number of threats I’ve gotten from Taytum over the years is enough to fill every page of a textbook. They no longer faze me, just like it doesn’t faze me when guys try to take her into one of the bedrooms at a party and I have to step in and threaten to cut their hands off.

When I pull up to the sorority house, I catch a glimpse into the window, expecting to see Taytum, but instead, I’m met with a cluster of freshies with flushed faces. I chuckle and step out of my car. They duck, as if I didn’t just make eye contact with them, and I laugh under my breath while making my way to the porch. The front door opens, and it takes Taytum all of three seconds to slam it in my face.

“Ma’am, I heard you called for a driver!” I shout through the door.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” she calls from the other side. There’s a hint of humor in her voice, and I hate that I crave the sound of her laugh.

“I know I’m hilarious,” I say. “Now, let’s go.”

“I’m not going with you until you change out of that stupid outfit.”

My lip twitches. “Fine.”

I strip down to my boxers but keep the black hat on. The cold breeze whisks against my exposed skin, and goosebumps crawl over my chest. I look over to the window and wink at the younger sorority sisters. There’s a lot of attention that comes with playing on Bexley U’s hockey team, so I’m used to it. Though most of my teammates hate it, I don’t. It makes life fun and the parties much more interesting.

The door opens, and Taytum’s sugary scent wafts around her, alongside her fury. “Ford!”

I shrug sheepishly. “What?”

“Keep your clothes on! No one wants to see you naked.”

Taytum bends down and bundles my chauffeur costume in her hands before shoving it into my chest. I put my hand over hers and hold it there while she pushes it into me harder. “Everyone is enjoying the view.” I lean extra close to her and brush my mouth against her ear. “Even you.”

She pulls away and storms past me. My laughter follows her swaying hips, and before long, we’re on the way to her practice with Taytum sending me a death glare every few seconds from the passenger seat.

“Will you stop?” I finally ask.

“Stop what?” Her arms are crossed over her coat, and the flash of her icy blue eyes matches the beanie she’s wearing. She turns away almost as quickly as she turns toward me.

I reach over and flick the fuzzy ball on top of her beanie. “Being negative about all of this. Don’t you enjoy spending time with me?”

Taytum closes her eyes and sighs deeply. “I’m not being negative, and no, I do not enjoy spending time with you. Especially when you’re driving me to practice without clothes on.”

What a liar. Everyone enjoys seeing me without clothes on.

Taytum pulls her phone out and starts texting someone to avoid me. I can’t help but ask who it is. “Who ya texting?”

I mimic her the second she opens her mouth. “None of your business.”

She flashes me those blue eyes again, and I smile. I can usually pull a little smirk from her in return, but I come up empty-handed. She’s on edge today, and that’s always a trigger for me because she’s either truly upset or she’s hiding something. Between me and Emory, we keep close tabs on her. I usually know her next move before she does.

“What’s up?” I take the playfulness out of my voice so she knows I’m done messing around. “Talk to me, Heartbreaker.”

She scoffs again and turns toward the window. Her chest heaves with an exasperated sigh in her attempt to avoid me, and as soon as we pull up to the auditorium, she hurriedly starts to gather her things to rush out of my car. Practice isn’t for another seven minutes, so now I’m fully invested in what’s got her so cagey.

When her phone vibrates, both of our eyes fall to it. I’m always one step ahead of her, so I snatch it before she does. I happily chuckle with my victory, but my smile quickly falls when I read the screen.

“What the hell is this all about?” I trap the phone against my chest when she tries to reach for it. Her cheeks match the pink of her lips, but the embarrassment doesn’t stop her from climbing over the center console to claw at my hand. I grip the phone so hard it starts to creak beneath my fingers. “Taytum. You can’t be serious.”

“Do not start with me, Ford Collins.” Taytum throws herself back into the seat, and it’s high school all over again. She wants to hide behind anger, but there’s a million other emotions backing the bite in her voice. My best friend’s little sister is the only girl I have ever let myself get close to. I forced myself to move beyond her beautiful features and killer body years ago and learned what’s on the inside. I can read her pretty damn well, whether she wants to admit it or not.

I grip the steering wheel while rereading the messages between her and Claire.

Claire: What? You’ve disappeared with plenty of guys at parties.

Taytum: Disappeared. Yes. Fooled around with? Dated? Nada.

Claire: Tay, you command a room the moment you walk into it. Your confidence seeps into others. You don’t need help dating or having the occasional one-night fling. You could have any guy you want.

Taytum: I do need help! I’ve never even been on a real date, and now I have this god awful glucose monitor stuck to my body like an extra limb. No guy wants to deal with that while they fuck me.

Claire: Oh, come on! That is not true. And what about Tommy?

Taytum: You mean the guy Emory and Ford paid to take me to prom my senior year? That doesn’t count as a date.

I hold back a laugh at the memory. He may or may not have been into guys, but to our advantage, it was unconfirmed at the time, and he was more than happy to step in and take Taytum to prom. I’ll admit that it was only because he was trying to prove something to his asshole father but, nonetheless.

Claire: THEY PAID HIM?

Taytum snatches the phone out of my hand when she notices that I’m distracted, and I bite my tongue to hold in my laughter. “We didn’t pay him. You’re so dramatic.”

Taytum’s hot breath fills my entire car. She might as well have fire flying from her mouth like a dragon. I can feel her wrath wrap around my throat like she’s seconds from choking me. “I’m dramatic? Are you freaking kidding me?”

“Hey,” I try to even my tone. “Calm down. Don’t get all worked up and throw your body out of sync. Stress plays a part in raising your blood sugar, in case you didn’t know. Your parents will kill me if I’m the reason it spikes.”

 Taytum throws her hands up in frustration. “Good! Then maybe I can finally get a boyfriend and live my life without you interfering.” She pauses dramatically. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. No one is going to want to date me with this thing on my skin anyway!” Taytum gestures to her arm that’s covered by her coat, and I roll my eyes.

“No one is stopping you from getting a boyfriend.”

Taytum snaps her head over to me, but I refuse to look at her because we both know that isn’t true.

“Oh, really?” The winter breeze cools the heated car when she pushes open the door with force and steps outside. “Then prove it.”

“What do you mean, ‘prove it’?” I am not falling for her little tricks.

Taytum leans back into the car with her hand still on the door handle. I’ve seen this look before, and it usually means she has some wild plan brewing. Her cheeks ripen with heat, and it’s the same pinkish hue she has on her face when she tries to run off with some loser at a party, just to spite me. And the little twinkle in her eye is the same bright gleam she had the night she lost her virginity without me knowing. When I found out, the twinkle intensified to a full-on glow.

That was the moment I learned that Taytum loves irritating me just as much as I love irritating her.

“Don’t interfere tonight.”

My heart skips a beat, and it pisses me off. “What the hell is tonight?” I ask.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Taytum smiles like a devil in red and disappears from my sight.

Not so fast. 

I open my door and stand up with one foot still in the car. I watch her skip up the stairs to the auditorium with her dance bag in hand. I reach down and blow the horn to get her attention. She freezes.

“What do you have planned, Heartbreaker?” I shout.

She peeks over her shoulder. “You’ll just have to see.”

I fully step out of my car, with my costume in hand. I start to get dressed, and her lips purse with annoyance. “You know what, I think I’ll stay for your dance practice today.”

I really need to go to my study group if I want to ace chemistry, but annoying Taytum further takes precedence every single time. Her glare fuels me like gasoline on a fire, and I can’t help but poke her a little more.

She picks up her pace, but it’s no use. I know my way around the auditorium. My smirk deepens when I step in line with her to march down the hall. “Tell me what you’re up to, and I’ll leave.”

“No! Go away,” she snaps.

“That’s not a very nice tone you’re using with me.”

Taytum stops with her hand on the auditorium door handle. She spins so quickly the fuzzy ball on top of her hat bounces. “You know what’s not nice? The fact that you steal my phone, and read my messages, and butt into every part of my life. Or when you swoop in and stop me from having any fun at a party. Or when you and Emory ban together and threaten any guy from talking to me.” Taytum turns away in a fury, and strangely enough, I feel wounded. I decide to let her stomp away in anger and slip into the back of the auditorium in silence. When their rehearsal has started, I discreetly text her brother.

Me: Is there a party tonight or something?

Emory: Yeah. Rush invited a bunch of people over to gear up for their championship game.

Me: We’re going.