Puck Me, I’m Yours (Hawthorne University Hockey #1)

17. Breck

17

Breck

The bonfire crackles, sending sparks spiraling into the inky night sky. My eyes scan the crowd, searching for that familiar blonde hair. I spot her near the edge of the gathering, laughing with Greer and another girl. The firelight dances across her face, highlighting those intense green eyes that have been haunting my dreams. She's wearing a chunky knit sweater that looks so soft I want to run my hands over it, to feel her warmth beneath.

Why am I so nervous? We've been texting all week, but seeing her in person... it's different. More real. More terrifying.

I take a deep breath and make my way over. Del turns as I approach, and the smile that spreads across her face makes my knees weak. God, I'm in trouble.

The closer I get, the more I feel her magnetic pull. When I’m within reach, I can't contain myself any longer. My hand finds the back of Del's neck, fingers tangling in her soft hair, and I pull her close. Our lips meet in a kiss that's equal parts desperation and relief. She tastes like cinnamon and possibility, and I swear I could get drunk on this feeling alone.

I vaguely register Greer's voice in the background, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, gross. Do that somewhere else.”

I break the kiss, chuckling against Del's lips. My eyes meet hers, and I'm lost in the warmth I find there. "Sorry," I murmur, not feeling sorry at all. "I've been wanting to do that all week."

Del's cheeks flush, and she bites her lower lip in a way that makes me want to kiss her all over again. Instead, I force myself to take a step back, giving her some space.

"Hey," I manage, my voice coming out rougher than intended. "You made it."

Del's eyes sparkle with amusement. "I said I would, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't sure if figure skating superstar Delaney Quinn would have time for us mere mortals," I tease, falling into our usual banter. It feels good, familiar.

She rolls her eyes, but I can see the hint of a smile. "Please, like I'd miss the chance to see the great Brecken Monroe in his natural habitat."

I laugh, the tension in my chest easing. This is why I like her—she keeps me on my toes.

"Well, now that you're here, can I interest you in some questionable hot chocolate and a prime spot by the fire?" I ask, gesturing toward the refreshment table.

Del hesitates, glancing at Greer and her friend. I quickly add, "Your friends are welcome too, of course."

"Thanks, but I think we're good here," Greer pipes up, nudging Del forward with a knowing smirk. "You two crazy kids have fun."

"So, this is what it takes to get you out on a Friday night? A little fire and some bad music?" I tease, gesturing to the crackling bonfire and the questionable playlist blaring from nearby speakers. Before she can respond, I lean in and steal another quick kiss. "I missed you."

The words come out more vulnerable than I intended, and for a moment, I worry I've said too much. But then Del's eyes soften, and she reaches out to squeeze my hand.

"I missed you too," she admits quietly.

Relief floods through me. I haven’t seen her in person since she got back from Texas. I know we’ve both been busy. But I'd been starting to think she was deliberately avoiding me, that maybe she regretted what happened between us. But hearing those words, seeing the sincerity in her eyes... it's like a weight lifting off my chest.

"Yeah?" I can't help the goofy grin spreading across my face. "Good to know I'm not the only one going crazy here."

Del rolls her eyes, but there's no heat behind it. "Don't let it go to your head, Monroe. I'm only here for the s'mores and questionable hot chocolate."

"Oh, is that so?" I raise an eyebrow, playing along. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to be an expert marshmallow roaster. Care for a demonstration?"

As we make our way toward the fire, I can't shake the feeling that something's shifted between us. It's subtle, but it's there—a newfound ease, a shared understanding. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something real. I know it’s real for me. But she’s been fighting this every step of the way.

I guide Del towards the group of my teammates gathered around the bonfire, my hand resting lightly on the small of her back. We stop off for a cup of the promised hot chocolate and a smores kit before heading over to meet everyone. The familiar faces of the Hunters greet us with a chorus of cheers and whistles.

"Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!" Axel calls out, raising his red cup in salute.

I feel Del tense slightly beside me, but she manages a small smile. "Wouldn't miss it," she says, her voice carrying a hint of the dry humor I've come to adore.

As we settle into the circle, I can't help but notice how effortlessly Del fits in. She may not be as boisterous as some of the guys, but there's a quiet confidence about her that demands respect. It's like watching two worlds collide—the disciplined grace of figure skating meeting the rowdy camaraderie of hockey—and somehow, it works.

The night progresses, and I find myself constantly aware of Del's presence beside me. Our shoulders brush as we lean in to hear a story Cross is telling, and I swear I can feel sparks igniting at every point of contact. When Tyson cracks a joke about coach's latest tirade, Del's laughter rings out, clear and genuine. The sound makes my heart skip a beat.

I lean in close, whispering, "Having fun?"

She turns to me, those green eyes dancing in the firelight. "More than I expected," she admits. "Your teammates aren't half bad."

"High praise coming from you," I tease, nudging her gently.

As the bonfire starts to die down and people begin to drift away, I realize I'm not ready for the night to end. "Can I walk you home?" I ask, trying to keep the hopeful edge out of my voice.

Del hesitates for a moment, then nods. "I'd like that."

We say our goodbyes and start the walk back to her place, falling into step beside each other. The campus is quiet, the only sounds are our footsteps and the distant echoes of the party we've left behind.

"So," I begin, searching for the right words. "How've you been? Really?"

Del's quiet for a long moment, and I start to worry I've overstepped. But then she takes a deep breath. "Honestly? I'm still pretty shaken up from Skate America. I knew I’d see Rafe, I always do at these things. But, he just got under my skin... it brought back a lot of stuff I thought I'd dealt with."

My chest tightens at the pain in her voice. "Del, I'm so sorry. You're worth so much more than he'll ever be able to see. Don't let him take up space in your head. He doesn't deserve it."

Del looks up at me, surprise and something softer flickering across her face. "You really believe that, don't you?"

I meet her gaze steadily. "Every word."

As we approach Del's apartment, my heart races. I don't want this night to end. Not yet. Not when I finally feel like we're breaking through some of those walls she's built up. I want to be her support, not just for the big things but for the everyday stuff. I want her to know she doesn’t have to do it all alone.

We linger outside her door, neither of us making a move to say goodnight. The streetlight casts a soft glow on her face, highlighting the slight furrow in her brow. God, she's beautiful.

"I'm glad you came tonight," I murmur, stepping a little closer. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her, but I hold back. "I needed this—needed you."

Del's green eyes search mine, a mix of vulnerability and uncertainty swirling in their depths. "You make it sound so easy," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "This whole... ‘letting someone in’ thing."

I can't help but chuckle softly. "It's not. But it's worth it when it's the right person."

She hesitates, and I can almost see the gears turning in her head. "And you think I'm the right person?"

My laugh this time is louder, more genuine. "Del, I know you are."

"You don't even know me," she counters, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

"I know enough," I insist, grinning now. My heart's pounding so hard I wonder if she can hear it.

"Like what?" she challenges, crossing her arms.

I step even closer, close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume. "Like the way your nose scrunches when you're focused, or how you pretend you're fine when you're not. Like how you light up when you talk about skating but always act like it's no big deal." I take a breath, my voice softening. "I know you're stubborn as hell and way too hard on yourself. And I know I want to learn the rest, if you'll let me."

The silence that follows feels electric, charged with possibility. I've laid it all out there, and now the ball's in her court. Please, Del. Let me in.

Del's eyes flicker with something I can't quite read, but before I can overthink it, she's closing the distance between us. Her lips meet mine, soft and tentative at first, like she's testing the waters. I respond gently, letting her set the pace, my hand coming up to cup her cheek.

But then something shifts. The kiss deepens, and suddenly it's like a dam breaking. All the tension, the longing, the feelings we've been dancing around—it all comes pouring out. My fingers tangle in her hair as her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathless. I rest my forehead against hers, not ready to let go. "Wow," I murmur.

Del lets out a shaky laugh. "Yeah. Wow."

I'm about to dive back in for another kiss when she speaks again. "Do you... want to come inside?"

My heart skips a beat. "Are you sure?"

She nods, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I…yeah."

"I'd like that," I say, meaning it more than I can express.

As we enter her apartment, I'm struck by how perfectly it fits her. Neat and organized, but with little touches of personality—a fuzzy throw blanket here, a collection of well-worn skating magazines there. I know she shares with some of the other figure skaters, Greer included. There’s touches of them here and there too.

We end up on her bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows. At first, we actually do try to watch a movie, but it quickly becomes background noise as we talk. Really talk, about everything and nothing.

"Tell me about your family," Del says, her head resting on my shoulder.

I laugh. "Hope you're comfortable, because that could take a while."

As the night fades into early morning, I find myself marveling at how easy this feels. Del, usually so guarded, is open and relaxed. I learn about her childhood dreams (unsurprisingly, they were Olympic themed), her fears (spiders, deep water, and failure), her favorite ice cream flavor (it's cookie dough, in case you were wondering).

Somewhere between sharing embarrassing childhood stories and debating the merits of various pizza toppings, we drift off to sleep. I wake up briefly as the first rays of sunlight start peeking through her curtains. Del is curled against me, her blonde hair splayed across my chest, and I'm struck by how right this feels.

Chaos and control. Fire and ice. She's everything I didn't know I needed, and as I pull her closer, I make a silent promise to myself. I'm not letting this go.

??????

The soft morning light filters through Del's curtains, painting her room in a warm glow. I blink awake, momentarily disoriented before the events of last night come rushing back. Del's still asleep, her body molded perfectly against mine, and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face.

"Morning, beautiful," I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Del stirs, her green eyes fluttering open. "Breck?" she mumbles, voice husky with sleep.

I can't resist. I capture her lips in a tender kiss, reveling in the softness of her mouth. She responds immediately, arching into me, and suddenly I'm very aware of every point where our bodies touch.

"Mmm," Del hums, rolling her hips back. The friction against my rapidly hardening cock draws an involuntary groan from me.

"Careful there, princess," I warn, my voice rough. "You're playing with fire."

She turns her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe I like playing with fire."

God, this woman is going to be the death of me. I kiss her harder this time, one hand sliding up to wrap gently around her throat while the other cups her breast. Del grinds back against me again, more deliberately this time.

"Del," I growl, my self-control hanging by a thread. "If you keep that up, you're gonna get fucked."

She pauses for a heartbeat, and I wonder if I've gone too far. But then she rolls those sinful hips once more, a challenge in her eyes.

"Promise?" she whispers.

My mind goes blank, overwhelmed by want and need and the intoxicating scent of her skin. I slide my hand down the front of Del's panties, my breath catching as I feel how warm and wet she is. Her eyes flutter shut, a soft gasp escaping her lips. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

"You're so perfect," I murmur, trailing kisses along her jaw, her throat, her shoulder, before capturing her lips again. My fingers move in slow, deliberate circles, and I feel her body tense beneath me.

"Breck," she breathes, her voice thick with desire. It sends a shiver down my spine.

I watch in awe as she comes undone, her body arching off the bed, her fingers digging into my shoulders. It's like watching art in motion, and I'm mesmerized.

As she comes down from her high, Del reaches over to her nightstand, grabbing something and tossing it at me. It takes me a second to realize it's a condom.

"You sure?" I ask, searching her eyes.

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "I want you, Breck. All of you."

My heart does a backflip in my chest. I fumble with the wrapper, my hands shaking slightly. But as I slide into her, both of us groaning at the sensation, I realize this is different. This isn't just sex. This is Del. And suddenly, I'm terrified of screwing this up.

"You okay?" Del asks, her hand cupping my cheek.

I nod, leaning into her touch. "Yeah, I'm just... you're amazing, you know that?"

Her answering smile is everything. "So are you, hockey boy. Now, are you going to keep talking, or are you going to show me what you've got?"

Challenge accepted, princess.

I bury my face in the crook of Del's neck, inhaling her scent—an intoxicating mix of whipped honey, almond, and something uniquely her. My hand slides from her throat to her breast, squeezing gently as I start to move inside her. This isn't like our frenzied encounter in my kitchen. This is slow, sensual, everything I've been craving.

"God, Del," I murmur against her skin, my other hand finding its way between us to rub circles on her clit. "You feel incredible."

She whimpers, her hips pressing back to meet mine. "Breck, please..."

I lift my head to look at her, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and parted lips. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you need."

Her green eyes lock onto mine, intense and vulnerable all at once. "You. Just you."

My heart swells, and I capture her lips in a deep kiss. I can hear how wet she is as I slide in and out, the sound mixing with our shared breaths and quiet moans. It's intoxicating.

"I've wanted this for so long," I confess, my voice rough with emotion. "Wanted you. Not just like this, but... everything. You're everything, Del."

She wraps her legs tighter around me, pulling me closer. "I'm right here," she whispers. "I'm not going anywhere."

The tension builds between us, slow and steady like a crescendo. When we finally come together, it's with shared gasps and whispered names, our bodies trembling against each other.

As we catch our breath, I can't help but grin. "So... round two?"

Del laughs, the sound light and carefree. "You're insatiable, Monroe."

"Only for you, Quinn," I tease, pressing a kiss to her crown. "Think you can keep up?"

Her eyes spark with challenge. "Oh, I'll do more than keep up.”

And she does, riding me to orgasm in her bed. Then again in the shower. By the time I’m stepping onto the ice that night, I feel like I could conquer the world.

Hunters hockey might trump football on every other day, but not on homecoming. The crowd tonight is thinner than we’re used to, but Del is still here.

The moment I hit the ice, everything else fades away. It's just me, the puck, and the goal. But every time I glance towards the stands, I see her. Cheering. Smiling. For me.

My heart does a weird flip. I realize it doesn't matter how many people are in the stands. The only person I care about seeing me play is right there, and that means more to me than the screaming fans.