Revenge Puck (Shot at Love #1)

Chapter 1

1

Elle Townsend

“ T hat…was great,” Christian Riley, my professional hockey star boyfriend, says just before he rolls out of my bed to get dressed. Clutching the sheet to my chest, I roll to my side and prop my head up on my elbow, watching in awe as he struts naked around my tiny apartment in all his six-foot, muscular perfection picking up his discarded clothes. “Too bad it was the last time.”

It takes me longer than it should for his words to break through my blissful haze.

“The last time?” I repeat in confusion.

He hops around the floor, pulling on his jeans, both legs as once. “It’s the playoffs, baby! If I win the trophy, shit is going to get crazy.”

I sit up in the middle of the bed, gripping the sheet tighter as understanding unfortunately dawns on me. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“I can’t be tied down now, not when everyone is gonna want a piece of Christian Riley. Besides, it’s not like we were really together,” he has the audacity to say while zipping up his pants.

Oh my god. Did he ask me for a lunchtime quickie today, knowing it would be the last time?

Wow.

And I don’t think I’ve ever hated how he refers to himself in the third person as much as I do now.

Not really together? He doesn’t think we were together?

“We’ve been seeing each other three or four times a week for five months!” I remind the pretty blond bastard.

His Greensboro Bobcats tee slips over his head as he says, “Not exclusively.”

“You-you’ve been with other people?”

The man shrugs at me. “Why wouldn’t I be with other people?” he asks, as if it’s a stupid question. “I’m always on the road with puck bunnies crawling all over me. You know how it is, right, Ellie?”

I keep telling myself that “Ellie” is a cute nickname, that he hasn’t simply forgotten my name is Elle after all this time.

“So, I was what? Just a casual booty call on standby for when you’re in town and wanted to get laid?”

“Exactly!” He flashes me his perfect smile, a rarity for hockey players, as if happy that I’m finally catching on. “And I was just a brag for you to tell your friends about, right? I get it. I am the best forward in the league. I just don’t think I’ll have time to keep this up with you over the summer once I win my first championship. At least I told you to your face and not by text, right?”

“So decent of you,” I mutter through my teeth sarcastically as I fall back onto my pillow.

“I know. Most of the time, I just block numbers and move on.”

How did I not realize what a callous prick he was?

Oh, because he’s pretty, and he liked kissing me and doing lots of other yummy things.

“Why did I merit this talk instead of you just ghosting me?” I ask curiously while staring up at the ceiling rather than his too pretty face.

“Because you’re the only one who can do my fade the way I like,” he responds, as if it’s obvious. “Just because we’re not fucking doesn’t mean I want you to stop cutting my hair and shit.”

Oh, wow.

“By the way, you’re welcome for me sending my teammates to you,” he says, as if the new clients make up for him being an asshole. “Hey, you could probably sleep with one of them from now on!”

Is that what he thinks of me? That I only wanted him because he was a professional hockey player, so it’s no big deal for me to replace him with a teammate?

Cutting my eyes to him, I ask, “You wouldn’t be jealous if I hooked up with one of your teammates?”

“Why would I be? Those guys are all my friends. They won’t mind my sloppy seconds.”

I slap my palms over my burning face, so embarrassed and ready for this conversation to be over. “Oh my god. Did you just refer to me as your ‘sloppy seconds’?”

“You could sleep with every player in the league, and I wouldn’t care,” he says confidently. “Well, except for Preston Lawrence.”

Good to know there’s at least one exception. “Why not him?” I can’t help but ask through my palms.

“Because he’s the guy who is gonna try to take me out of every game in the finals. He’ll slam me into the boards and beat the shit out of me just to keep me from scoring.”

“No kidding?” I’m suddenly a great admirer of this man I’ve never met. I have heard of him, though. Over the past five months, when Christian and I would come up for air, he would bitch about a rivalry with Preston Lawrence. He talked about him like he’s terrified of the other man.

“But it’s not like Preston would ever speak to a nobody like you, much less sleep with you,” Christian continues to kick me while I’m down.

“Wow,” I whisper indignantly at his insult. I’m a nobody.

“I didn’t mean he wouldn’t want you personally, Ellie. He just doesn’t date anyone. Ever. Hockey is his whole little world. He doesn’t allow any distractions from being the most violent prick in the whole damn league.”

Sitting up again, I study the handsome man’s scowl and furrowed brow. “It sounds like you’re scared of him. Christian Riley isn’t nervous about facing some big, bad bruiser in the playoffs, is he?” I can’t help but taunt him, referring to him in third person since that’s how he usually talks about himself.

“What? Hell no, I’m not scared.” He pinches the front of his shirt and says, “The Bobcats are gonna win, and I’m gonna be MVP. Nobody can stop me, babe, especially not Preston fucking Lawrence.”

We’ll just see about that.

The day doesn’t get better when I drag my ass back to the salon, now sad and hungry because I skipped lunch for Christian’s final quickie. Not that skipping a meal is necessarily a bad thing for me…

“You look like crap,” Audrey says when she sees me.

Unlike my beautiful best friend and salon co-owner, who never has a brunette hair out of place, I do look like crap. If I were thinner, prettier, maybe Christian wouldn’t have wanted anyone else.

“No kidding. I just got dumped.”

“What? No!” she exclaims.

“Not that he thinks we even qualified as being together. I was just a hookup for Christian. Nothing else.”

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry, Elle.”

“It’s fine. Really. I never actually thought the notorious playboy would give up all women for me or anything. It was nice to pretend for a while,” I tell her as I slump into my salon chair and use the toe of my slip-ons to spin it around to face her. “Is it wrong that I want to shave his eyebrows off or slash his tires to get back at him?”

“Those are perfectly reasonable desires after a breakup.”

“I can’t mess up his looks or the puck bunnies would full on attack me whenever I go out in public.”

“True enough. They are rabid.”

“And I don’t want to get arrested for assaulting his tires.”

“I think the police would charge you with vandalism, not assault, but it could get you a court date which would require an expensive attorney.”

“He’s not worth those kinds of headaches. It just sucks that he tossed me aside so easily, like I was nothing. Can you believe he told me that I could sleep with one or all of his teammates and he wouldn’t care?”

“Huh. That could help you feel a little better.”

“No, it wouldn’t! Not if he doesn’t care!” I throw my head back on the chair and stare up at the ceiling tiles. “The only stupid exception he made to that offer was some rival on the Warhawks he’s facing in the finals. Preston something.”

“There you go!” Audrey exclaims. Coming over, she spins my chair around one full, quick time, causing my head to snap up. “Go sleep with him.”

“Ha! Funny. Christian said this Preston guy wouldn’t ever want me.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have to actually go through with it, right? Just make Christian think you were hooking up with his rival.”

“I don’t even remember his last name now…” I tell her when I notice her phone is already in her hand, thumbs typing away.

“Found him! His name is Preston Lawrence. He’s a defenseman for the Warhawks. He could really use a cut and a shave, but he’s not bad looking from what little I can see of his face.” Turning her phone’s screen around, she shows me his photo.

“Eh. Christian said he doesn’t date, even if I could figure out a way to meet him.”

“Again, you’re not actually going to date the man, just pretend. And if Christian doesn’t like him, then Preston probably feels the same, right? Maybe he would be willing to play along. You know what they say: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“That guy looks scary, Audrey. Even Christian is terrified of him.”

“Scary? Really? That’s hot,” she whispers. “Let’s look at some videos of this guy in action.”

Once she finds a few videos, Audrey comes around so we can both watch on her phone.

Hit after hit, I can’t help but wince at the force with which the big, hairy man runs people into the boards.

“Jeez,” Audrey says. “This guy is a violent beast.”

“No wonder Christian is worried about surviving the finals. He may have to face that dude in seven games! Do you know how many times he’ll probably hit him?”

“A lot I’m guessing.”

“Yes. And you think I can just walk up to this guy and say, ‘ Hey, you don’t know me, but could you pretend we slept together? ’ I’m sure he’ll get right on board with that.”

“I mean, you don’t have to pretend if he’s willing...” Audrey teases with a grin.

“I’m not going to sleep with some random guy just because Christian broke my heart!”

Shaking her head, Audrey clicks her tongue. “I knew that pretty man was too good to be true.”

“He was. And I was stupid to think I could be enough for him. Have you seen me?”

“Yes, Elle, and you’re beautiful.”

“I’m twenty pounds overweight and have only been called cute by the guys I’ve gone out with before Christian. He told me he thought I was hot, and I stupidly believed him. He probably tells every woman that to sleep with her.”

“Ah, Elle, the man is gorgeous and rich. I don’t think he has to spew any lies to get women into his bed.”

“You know what I mean.”

“What I’m trying to say is that while Christian may be a manwhore, I don’t think he would’ve given you compliments that he didn’t mean. There was no reason to when women throw themselves at him.”

“I guess so,” I mutter. “I just—I thought I was special because Christian Riley wanted me. I know I shouldn’t put my worth on what one man thinks, but I did. He made me feel more confident because I thought that out of all the women who wanted him, he chose me.”

“And he did. You just weren’t the only chosen one.”

“Yeah. Bastard.”

“If you want to get back at him, show him that you’re not wasting a second crying over him and that you’re already moving on.”

“With his enemy? Right. That will be very believable.”

“Hey, all you need to say is that you and the caveman ran into each other and bonded over your shared hatred. Then, the next thing you knew, he was offering to make your toes curl to help you forget the jerk.”

“I wish forgetting Christian was that easy. Do you know how many incredible nights we had over five months? It’s not fair that he’s also good at sex as well as being pretty and one of the fastest guys on the ice.”

Audrey flops down into her chair with a sigh. “No, it’s not fair. He should share his knowledge with the rest of the male population.”

“He should. But no, he’s a selfish bastard who keeps all the good stuff to himself so that no other man can ever live up to him!”

“Oh, Elle. You will find someone better than that jerk. Right now, it may not feel like your broken heart will heal, but it will. And you know the best way to start the healing process?”

“Pretend like I’m moving on?”

“Yes! Pretending to move on is almost as good as the real thing.”

“Right. Sure.”

Getting to her feet, Audrey claps her hands together. “Now, how can we get to that woolly mammoth of a man to make this happen?”

“How do I get face time with a professional hockey player on the rival team for the finals? No freaking clue.”

Biting her lip, Audrey paces in front of the salon windows. “Tomorrow is the first game of the series, right?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s here in town?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you’ve been to the arena a few times with Christian, right?”

“Yes, I’ve met him in the arena’s player parking lot after the games. He got me tickets like twice.”

“Then you have the perfect in. Nobody who works there needs to know you two broke up.”

“I don’t know if any employees at the security gate will remember me. But if I could get a ticket, I could pretend like I’m lost…”

“Then you could get into the lot and possibly run into the woolly mammoth?”

“That’s a long shot,” I say, dubiously.

“One you’re willing to take, though, right?”

“How will I get a ticket the day before the first game of the freaking championship series?”

“We must know a client who has tickets. It’s the only decent professional sport in this town.”

“True. But who would be willing to give up a ticket to the first game of the finals? One ticket is probably going for a thousand dollars online.” I spin the chair around slowly.

“Then we call in every favor and see what we can do.”

“Okay,” I agree. “But first, I have to go get tested for every disease under the sun.”

“You always used protection, right?”

“Yes, of course we did. Except…you know, for oral?”

“Ah, right. Hard for me to forget, since I’ve been in the back more than once while you were out here on your knees.”

“Sorry,” I tell her with a wince. “The chair was always turned around so nobody could see in the window.”

Audrey waves her hand through the air. “Eh, it’s fine. I enjoy living vicariously through you. Too bad Christian was a player on and off the ice.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad,” I agree.

“Well, forget that jerk. You go get your tests, and I’ll start making some calls.”

“Great, thank you.” I hop out of the chair to give my best friend and partner a hug, grateful I have her for support.