Suck My Puck (Denver Bashers Series #3)

4. Braden

Chapter 4

Braden

“ N o fucking way…” I mutter as I watch my hot neighbor pour a row of shots along the bartop.

“Wait, do you know her?” Xander asks.

“Uh, kind of. We met, but I don’t know her name.” I tug a hand through my hair when I think about our run-in yesterday.

How pissed off she was about the music blasting in my apartment. How when I first saw her, all I could do was stare at her. She was stunning. Those big, honey-brown eyes. Her long, wavy golden brown hair that was messy from sleeping.

The way her boobs jiggled in that tank top she was wearing. How plump her ass looked in those tiny sleeping shorts.

And her back dimples…

My dick twitches in my pants when I think about those sexy as fuck dimples on her lower back, right above her shorts. I’m a sucker for dimples on a woman—on her back and her face.

I think about how we bickered before she made that shitty comment about me being a hockey player and stomped off to her apartment.

“She’s my new neighbor,” I say after a second. “And she hates hockey players.”

I tell the guys what went down between us.

“Damn. That sucks,” Del says.

“Yeah. Yikes.” Theo winces.

Xander shoves my shoulder. “Now’s the perfect time to make it right. Go introduce yourself. And hey, if it goes well, you could give her the D,” he jokes.

I punch his arm, and he laughs.

“Seriously though, you should apologize to her,” Xander says. “Being woken up by your neighbor’s loud music fucking sucks.”

“Yeah. The last thing you want is for her to be pissed off at you. Makes for a shitty living situation,” Theo says.

I sigh. They’re right. I was in the wrong yesterday. Yeah, she was pretty harsh toward me, but I can’t blame her. I’m the one who left my music blasting and woke her up. I should have just apologized and let her go off on me instead of giving her a hard time.

I should at least try to make things right.

I push up from the table. “Wish me luck.”

I walk up to the bar right as she finishes serving a customer.

When she looks at me, her brow raises the slightest bit in surprise. And then that frown I remember from yesterday appears.

Her full, pouty lips purse like she’s pissed to see me. My dick twitches in my pants again. Well. That’s…different. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten excited over a pissed-off expression be fore.

But no lie, this woman is stunning. And she’s really fucking hot when she’s mad.

“Well. If it isn’t my jerk neighbor,” she says.

“If that’s what you want to call me from now on, fine. But I have an actual name.”

Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “I kind of like my nickname for you. I can tell it pisses you off.”

“I guess it’s better than some of the other names you called me yesterday.”

“What did you expect? You woke me up from a dead sleep with terrible music.”

“Hey, now. I have excellent taste in music.”

“You call screaming and growling music?”

“Yeah. It’s rough and raw. I’m into it.” I can’t help but smile. It’s fun teasing her like this.

“Whatever you say,” she mutters. She turns away for a second. When she turns back to me, she has a kitchen towel in her hand.

“At least it wasn’t country,” she says as she wipes down the bartop in front of her. “That would have been grounds for murdering you.”

I can’t help the grin pulling at my lips. “Not a country fan?”

“God, no. I can’t handle listening to guys wailing about their trucks and tractors.”

I burst out laughing. The corner of her mouth twitches up like she’s fighting a smile.

My heart skids in my chest. Fuck. That’s cute.

If that’s what she looks like when she almost smiles, how beautiful is she when she full-on smiles?

I already know the answer to that question. Fucking gorgeous .

“You don’t have to worry. Country’s not really my thing,” I say.

“Good. But please tell me you listen to other genres of music besides death screaming.”

I laugh. “Of course I do. I like almost anything.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Except country.”

“Obviously. I love a good pop song.”

She lets out a surprised laugh. And that’s when I see them. Dimples.

The sexiest, most adorable fucking dimples I’ve ever seen flank her gorgeous smile. I try not to stare, but I can’t help it. This woman is breathtaking when she smiles.

“Wait, you like pop music?” she asks.

“Hey, don’t hate. Pop is fun. It’s the perfect music to listen to when I go running.”

“No hate. I’m just surprised.”

“What? I don’t look like your average pop fan?” I tease.

Her smile turns playful, almost like she’s enjoying this back-and-forth.

“Who are your pop music favorites?” she asks.

“Sabrina Carpenter. Olivia Rodrigo. Ariana Grande. BTS. Taylor Swift, of course.”

“That’s a pretty decent list,” she says.

“What do you listen to?” I ask.

“Right now, I’m revisiting my favorite playlist from college. It’s mostly the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and The Black Keys”

I grin. “Damn. You’re hardcore.”

She shrugs, and her smile turns teasing. “When I’m feeling hardcore, I listen to Tupac.”

“Same. I can’t get through a weightlifting session without playing ‘Hit ‘Em Up’ at least once.”

She lets another gorgeous grin break free. Getting her to smile—seeing those dimples—feels like I’m winning a game I didn’t even know I was playing.

“Heavy metal’s my favorite though,” I say. “It’s the best way to amp me up before hockey practice.”

That amusement in her honey-gold eyes fades along with her smile. “Right.”

She drops a hand on her hip. “So, do you want to order a drink or what?”

I blink, thrown off by her sudden curtness. Damn. That playful back-and-forth didn’t last long.

I refocus. I got off track with all the music talk. I came here to say sorry. “Look, I just wanted to apologize for the other morning. I was in the wrong for leaving my music on too loud. And I was wrong to argue with you about it. I’m sorry.”

She blinks, and the hard look in her eyes fades. “Apology accepted.”

“So…we’re good?”

She swallows, and I can’t help but stare at her delicate, pretty throat. “Yeah, it’s all fine.”

“Blomdahl!” I spin around when I hear Ingrid hollering my name.

She, Maya, Sophie, and Del’s younger sister, Dakota, are all standing around at our table across the bar, smiling at me.

“Get us a round of tequila shots, will you?” Ingrid asks sweetly.

“And vodka!” Maya adds.

“And extra lime wedges!” Dakota says.

The guys all laugh as the ladies settle at our table.

When I spin back around, my neighbor is frowning at me. “Your name is Blomdahl?”

“Last name. My first name is Braden, but everyone calls me Blomdahl. Old hockey habit. Half of us call each other by our last names.”

“Right. You’re a hockey player,” she says with a sharpness in her tone. “So a round of tequila shots and vodka shots and limes?”

I rub the back of my neck, feeling uneasy. “Uh, yeah. Please.”

She lays out two rows of empty shot glasses and starts pouring liquor into them. “Do you and your hockey teammates need another pitcher of beer too?”

Her voice has an edge when she says, “Hockey teammates.”

“No, we’re good.”

She glances at where we’re sitting. “It’s like a backwards hat convention at your table.”

I frown and look over at the guys. They’re all wearing baseball caps backward. So am I.

“Do you not like hockey players or something?” I ask before I can stop myself. I probably shouldn’t, but I’m curious.

She sets the shot glasses on a tray along with a small bowl of lime wedges. “No. I don’t. Here you go.” She slides the tray to me.

“Can I ask why?”

She tilts her head and flashes a tight smile. “No. You can’t. That’ll be fifty bucks.”

I let out an exasperated laugh. Wow. This woman is something else.

And honestly? I kind of like it. I mean, it’s a little obnoxious that she hates hockey players for some mysterious reason. But I like how feisty she is. She’s got killer taste in music. And I like talking to her.

And those fucking dimples .

I hand her a hundred-dollar bill. “Can I at least get your name? We’re neighbors, after all.”

She turns around to grab my change. She hands me two twenties and two fives. “Bella.”

“Very pretty.”

She rolls her eyes. “Thanks.”

“Last name?”

She glares at me.

I chuckle. “Come on. You know mine. It’s only fair.”

The corner of her mouth twitches like she’s fighting a smile.

“Palermo.”

“Nice to meet you, Bella Palermo. I’ll be sure to keep it down.”

I slide the cash she just gave me across the bartop back to her and leave it as a tip before walking back over to my table.

“How did it go?” Xander asks when I sit back down and hand out the shots. “Everything good between you two now?”

“Nope. She still doesn’t like me.”

“Why are you smiling then?” Theo asks.

I shrug and chuckle. “I don’t know.”

Theo laughs and slaps my back. “Maybe you like it when sexy women are mean to you, huh? New kink officially unlocked.”

Everyone laughs. So do I. But I can’t help but wonder if maybe he’s right.