Revenge Puck (Shot at Love #1)

Chapter 20

20

Preston

I can't believe that son of a bitch is still texting her, still begging for another chance. And since I'm so far away now, I can't help but wonder if Elle might give in to the asshole.

At least I get a response from Elle bright and early the next morning. She's definitely coming to D.C., and she wants to know when to arrive and for how long.

I jokingly text back to ask if now was too soon.

Her response, I should work for most of the day tomorrow, catch an afternoon flight, and be there for the puck drop .

Sounds good , I tell her. I can buy your plane ticket .

Elle: No, thank you. The tickets for tomorrow and Friday's game are more than enough .

Preston: So, you are staying through Friday?

Elle: How long did you want me to stay?

Sunday , I instantly respond.

Elle: Since I don’t have any appointments this Saturday and the salon is closed on Sundays, I guess I could make that work.

Preston: Great. Wednesday through Sunday. We'll spend the weekend celebrating the Warhawks winning the championship.

Elle: Ha! You wish!

As soon as I find out Elle is coming, I start speed cleaning the entire house from top to bottom. Maya and I keep it pretty tidy and clean, as much as we can with a four-year-old running around with about a million toys. Still, the whole place could use a late spring cleaning.

“You're dusting the freaking ceiling?” Maya asks from the entryway when she returns home from taking Finley to preschool.

“Yep,” I reply while running the duster head over the ceiling fan. “Going to clean the whole house today.”

“Oh really? Does this mean Elle is coming?”

“Yep.”

“Yay! I can't wait to meet her!”

Lowering the duster, I point it at her. “Be nice to her during the games. And please don't give her the whole history.”

“Why not?”

“Because...” I trail off, seeing a cobweb in a corner that needs to be knocked down.

“Do you trust her, Pres?”

“Yes.”

“Then why not tell her the truth?”

Shrugging, I mutter, “I don't know.”

“You're a stubborn jackass, that’s why,” she huffs. When I ignore her and start wiping down the baseboards, she says, “So, she's coming tomorrow and staying here with us?”

Shit. “I assumed she would stay here. I mean, if that's okay with you?” I finally face my sister again. “I should've asked you first.”

“It's your house, Pres. You can have guests whenever you want.”

“It's our house,” I correct her. “And that includes Finley. If you think it would be weird for him if Elle stays over, then I'll book a hotel room.”

My sister rolls her brown eyes while going over and fluffing the pillows on the sofa. “You don't have to get a hotel room to hook up with you girlfriend or whatever she is. If Elle’s going to stay over, I can just schedule a sleepover for me and Finley to get us out of your significantly shorter hair. It'll be fine.”

“You don't have to leave.”

“Trust me, it’s for my benefit more than yours. I don't want to stay and hear you two going at it all night.”

“That's not... we won’t be going at it. She just broke up with fucking Riley.”

“Poor girl. How long were they together?”

“Five months. He didn't think it was serious, but she did.”

“And he dumped her?”

“Right before the championships started.”

“Now you have another reason to hate him,” she murmurs while folding the blanket neatly and hanging it over the ottoman. “But you're smart to give her time, to avoid being a rebound.”

“That's exactly what I told her. I'm not sure if she agrees.”

“Well, it's still for the best.”

“Actually, Elle didn't mention where she would be staying. We only talked about dates.”

Pulling out my phone from my jogging pants pocket, I send her a quick message to ask if she wants to stay with me, adding that I have two guests rooms, so she doesn't think I'm trying to pressure her into anything.

Her response comes instantly.

Elle: I think it's best if I book a hotel room while I’m in town.

“Dammit,” I mutter after reading her response.

“What?” Maya asks, coming over to try to peek at my phone before I put it away.

“Elle's getting a hotel room. I told her she could stay here...”

“Well, maybe that's for the best too, so you don't rush into anything when emotions are high after a win.”

“I don't like it. The thought of her staying somewhere else in the city alone every night.”

“Then let her stay in the hotel the first night, then bring her over to the house to visit the next day. Let her see the place before you ask her if she wants to cancel her room and sleep here.”

“Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

Really, the only person I have to blame for Elle not wanting to share a bed with me is myself. Even though I know it's best, it still sucks.

“Riley's still texting her as of last night,” I confess to my sister when she starts to head to the kitchen.

She stops in her tracks and says over her shoulder, “Probably only to hurt you because he thinks he can win her back.”

“Do you think she'll go back to him? They live in the same city. The asshole is being persistent, and they have a history...”

“No clue, Pres. That's another reason why taking things slow is a good idea.”

“True enough. But I hate it. I hate him.”

“I'll leave you to your cleaning,” she says with a sigh.

“Will you clean your room and Finley's?” I ask before she leaves.

“Sure, thing. Even though I doubt Elle is going to spend much time in either,” she answers with a smile.

Preston: Let me know when your flight gets in. I’ll try to pick you up from the airport.

Elle: No way! It’ll be so late I’ll have to get an Uber straight to the arena. All you need to think about is losing game three.

Preston: I believe you meant ‘winning’ game three. And I wanted to see you before, but if your flight comes in late…

Elle : I’m sure. There will be plenty of time for me to see you after you lose.

Preston: Your ticket’s at Will Call. I’ll call you after our win to see about where to meet up.

Elle: Deal. Good luck. Don’t get into any fights.

Preston: I’ll try my best.

Game day in our arena takes some of the pressure off my shoulders. The home crowd cheering gets all the guys hyped, myself included.

And when Riley and his teammates skate onto the ice to warmup, the familiar rage feels further away because Elle will be here any minute. She changed her schedule to come to my hometown, to support me tonight.

When Riley comes up to me, like I knew the prick would, I tell him, “Stop texting Elle. She doesn't want anything to do with you. How many ways do we have to tell you?”

“I'll win her back eventually, just like I’ll be winning the championship trophy. Just wait and see.”

Ignoring his bullshit confidence, I say, “I can't wait to see her in my seats tonight. Did she ever travel to any of your games? I'm guessing no, since having her there would've stopped you from being able to fuck around behind her back.”

“Elle’s coming here?” he asks, his eyes widening in surprise. He glances around to where he knows my seats are, where Maya and Finley are already seated next to an empty one. After a long moment, he asks, “Then where is she?”

“Her flight must be running late.”

“Yeah, right. Maybe she’s just bored and had enough of waiting because of your stupid rule. She’s insatiable. Trust me, I would know.”

I don’t respond to that taunt, just flip him off and get my head back in the game.