Revenge Puck (Shot at Love #1)

Chapter 12

12

Elle

“ H ave you seen the video?” Audrey asks me as soon as Mrs. Waverly is sitting under the loud dryer.

“What video?”

“Oh, just the one everyone in the world is talking about!” When I continue staring at her blankly, she scoffs, “You haven’t seen the video Preston posted online?”

“Preston posted a video?”

“Yep.”

“About what?”

“You.”

“Me?” I exclaim. “Show me. My phone’s on the charger in the back.”

“Then you probably have a ton of notifications on it. Here,” she turns the screen around and presses the button on the side of the phone to increase the volume. Then Preston’s deep, gruff voice fills the room, and I am left stunned.

“Well?” Audrey asks once it’s over.

Throwing my arms up in the air, I say, “I can’t believe he did that. Now there will be even more haters and trolls.”

“You think so? Because I don’t. Who would go against anything that scary dude says?”

“He’s not as scary now that I cleaned up his beard and cut his shaggy hair.”

“True, but he’s still big as hell. Look at the comments. Not only do women think he looks amazing with the trim, but even Bobcats fans are commending him on standing up for you. Here’s what one person said: People are assholes, sorry they said rude shit about your girl. Good on you for coming to her defense and calling them out . That’s you, Elle! You’re his girl.”

“I’m his fake girl.”

“But that is a real video threatening everyone on social media to behave when it comes to you.”

“That’s just…it’s all part of him pretending we’re dating or whatever, so he can beat Christian and get his contract extended with the Warhawks.”

And maybe he also felt a little guilty about storming in and calling me a puck bunny earlier.

“All that may be reasons that Preston’s in this fake relationship, but he posted the video because he cares about your feelings. He doesn’t want people upsetting you. It’s sweet.”

Biting my bottom lip, I confess to her, “He asked me to go to dinner with him tonight…”

“Yay!” she exclaims with a clap of her hands.

“And I was going to go with him until he stormed back in here and basically called me a slutty puck bunny. If he cared about my feelings, then why would he do that? What he assumed, he’s not much better than the jerks on Insta.”

“Girl, I’m not excusing his behavior. He was definitely out of line. But I think he was mostly just jealous. He did not like the idea of you cutting all those guys’ hair.”

“Because they play for the Bobcats and are Christian’s teammates?”

“No, silly! Because they were men.”

“We have lots of male clients.”

“Yes, we do. And we don’t sleep with any of them ever. Well, before you and Christian, so it was bullshit for him to assume such a thing. Still, the fact that he even got upset suggests that he’s catching some feelings.”

“No, he’s not.”

“And what about you? Are you still feeling-free when it comes to Preston?”

“Of course. I know where the two of us stand. Yes, the kiss with him was hot, and he’s pretty fun to hang out with, but he’s only talking to me to irk Christian. Preston will be gone in a few days, never to be seen again.”

“D.C. isn’t that far away…”

“It’s too far for me to even think about, even if Preston was actually interested in being with me. Christian lived literally blocks away and it was still too far. If he would cheat on me after being away from me for one day, then how could I trust a man who lives hundreds of miles away?”

“Not every man is a whore like Christian Riley. Someday, you’re going to have to buck up and trust a guy if you ever want to have a serious relationship.”

“Well, that’s a future problem. Not one I need to worry about now because Preston is not a real relationship, much less a serious one.”

“Fine. But I think you should go to dinner with him.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you’re still not over the pain Christian caused you. It’s not fair that he’s probably going out and having fun while you stay home alone. You don’t have to do anything but eat a meal with Preston. Let people take a few photos and post them while you chat him up. Then go home. It’ll be better than sitting home all night missing that asshole, right?”

“I don’t know. It’s crazy, but I thought I could really like Preston, you know? Before he went all ‘roid rage. Now, I think it’s for the best that he acted that way.”

“Because now you don’t have to worry about actually crushing on your fake boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, what do you have to lose by having dinner with Preston? If you’re not going to fall for him, then it’s all good. Go enjoy a free meal with a hot hockey player and make Christian crazy jealous before tomorrow’s game.”

Cringing, I ask my best friend, “Is it wrong that I don’t want Christian to win?”

Audrey gasps and dramatically clutches her chest. “That’s blasphemy in these parts!”

“I want the Bobcats to win the championships; I just wish they could do it without that gorgeous bastard helping them.”

Preston

When I sent a time and place for dinner reservations to Elle, she agreed, but her responses to my messages since have been short, to the point.

She’s still upset with me.

Hopefully, I can make up for being a dick during dinner.

I’m standing on the sidewalk outside the Italian joint Vivace, that had great reviews online, when I see Elle walking toward me from the direction of her salon. Her hair is different from all the other times I’ve seen her. Guess that’s one of the perks of being a hair stylist. Tonight, her blond locks are sleeked back into a low bun-thing at the nape of her neck. I think I like the hairstyles when there’s unobstructed access to her neck the best.

After I allow my gaze to lower to the snug black dress showing off her ample cleavage and every single curve, I have to quickly try to recall our team’s shots on goal stats and percentages from the past few games to prevent a noticeable bulge in the front of my pants.

“Hey,” Elle says softly with her approach, eyeing my dark suit. “I thought this was the type of place that I needed to dress up for.”

“You’ve never been here before?” I ask in surprise.

“Nope. Some of us don’t make big bucks playing professional hockey,” she replies with a small smile.

I’m just glad she’s never been here with Riley. If I had to bet, their dates were probably not usually done in public.

Gritting my teeth together to ignore that thought, I grasp her bare upper arms to lean in and give her a brief kiss on her lips. When I pull back, I hold her gaze and tell her, “You look gorgeous, Elle. Thank you for agreeing to come tonight.”

She quickly glances away toward the windows of the restaurant, to the people seated inside. “Just don’t expect me to go Dutch. I have rent due next month.”

“Absolutely not,” I assure her with a grin. It doesn’t escape my notice that she completely ignores my compliment. “Do you live close to the salon?”

She nods her head. “Yes, I have an apartment just four blocks away.”

“That must be nice.”

“What about you? Do you live near the arena in D.C.?”

“Ah, not really. I wanted a house outside the busy city. The traffic sucks, though, so maybe I should’ve found something closer to the arena within walking distance. Doesn’t matter now, though, since I may be moving to another city before next season.”

Elle frowns. “You’re that certain the Warhawks won’t renew your contract with them?”

“I wish I could stay on, but the odds aren’t great if they haven’t put it in writing by now. I thought making the championships would be enough to earn a renewal, but I guess not. At least I lasted longer with them than I did in Wisconsin.”

“How long did you play for Wisconsin?”

“Only two years of the five in my contract before they traded me.”

“I’m sorry. That must be awful, not knowing when you might have to up and move.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter, dreading that conversation so damn much I’ve been ignoring Maya’s phone calls for the past two days. I did cave and text back short and sweet responses to her as required, knowing I would want the same if she were away. When I get back home, it’ll be time to face the music, and she’s going to be fucking distraught.

My go-to when I’m dealing with bad news is to stress eat the shit out of comfort food. It’s usually greasy shit, like entire pizzas, bowls of pasta, and pans of garlic bread. I try not to think about the reasons why I crave that kind of shit from my childhood.

“Ready to go in and eat?” I ask Elle as my stomach growls.

“Sure. This doesn’t look like the type of place where we’ll have to worry about a lot of phone cameras taking photos.”

I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t comment as I reach for the door and pull it open for Elle.

Rather than step inside, she asks, “Why did you post that video?”

The video? Oh, right. “Because I didn’t want anyone saying shit about you anymore.”

“Well, you don’t need to swoop in and save the day. I can handle the negative comments.”

“Can you? Because you were upset last night and earlier today about them.”

“I’m trying to just ignore them from now on,” she says before she finally walks inside.

After giving my name to the hostess, she leads us right to a table for two against the wall thankfully, and not by the windows facing the street.

As soon as we get seated, I ask Elle, “Do you need me to go through and delete the bad ones?”

Pulling the device from the purse on her shoulder, she unlocks the screen, then hands it over. “Sure, you can do that while I run to the restroom.”

Elle’s barely out of view when I start scrolling.

There are significantly fewer negative comments on her personal account, but I quickly delete the ones that are there before checking the salon page, then her messages.

Not all that surprising. Most DMs are men hitting her up, but a few are women calling her names or telling her she’s crazy for “cheating” on Riley. Those are deleted and blocked.

Then, I come upon the message thread between Elle and Riley.

Shit.

I didn’t mean to open the log; it just sort of happens. Curiosity gets the best of me. Even after I tell my eyes to stop reading or I’ll gouge them out, but they don’t obey me.

The first message was from Elle reaching out to Riley saying, I thought you were lying about being Christian Riley, so I looked you up . Then she asks him to tag the salon if he posts a selfie with his new haircut. He agrees, and offers to tell his teammates about her salon, to send her more business, which he, of course, did.

It was actually decent of him, and it explains all those photos of hockey players I flipped out about earlier. It was none of my business, but now I’m certain that Elle didn’t hook up with any of those guys. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst.

Not that her having sex with other men is a bad thing. She’s a grown woman who can do whoever she wants.

I just wish I could make it onto the list of men Elle invites to her bed, even if I know I shouldn’t.

I’m incredibly relieved that there aren’t any dirty photos being passed between Elle and Riley. Stressed or not, seeing any part of that asshole would’ve ruined my appetite.