Naughty Game (Renegades Hockey #3)

Chapter 1

Peyton

Eight Years Ago

I’m rewriting my To Do list under the soft sunshine, overlooking the water serenely. It’s the perfect spot to get away and slow down but not be alone.

Second year of uni carries its own stresses, and this semester is no different. But something feels off. Grades are good. New guy in my life is good. Family is good. It’s all just…good. Maybe that’s the problem. It’s just good.

But really, am I going to sit here and complain about things being good? That’s a first-world problem if I ever heard one.

When I look up to the sky for a moment of reflection and gratitude to offset the momentary grumbling, my eyes snag on a runner in short shorts and no shirt. Whew.

I’d fan myself if that wasn’t an obvious move. He is seriously hot. Quite possibly the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life. And—wait, I’m seeing someone. Well, just started. We haven’t defined it, but it feels like it’s monogamous. What am I saying? I am the monogamous type.

Then the jogger sends me a soft smile. No wink. Not anything so forward. And I return the smile before ducking my head back down.

Nope. Shut that down and quick. I’ve already got a guy in my life, so I can’t just be distracted by the first shiny thing to show up. No matter how shiny that sweat running down his six pack is.

HONK! A loud horn cuts through the slice of nature I’m enjoying. Tires screech. And the sound of bumpers thudding together fills the air. Due to the lack of metal cracking, it doesn’t sound serious.

I’m about to return to my To Do list when I catch sight of the jogger a few meters down the path hunched over. He does not look good.

Then he drops to his knees.

Oh my God! Panic steals all the serenity from my bones as I race over to him, abandoning my bags and lists and everything.

When I get closer, I approach with a little caution. “Are you alright?”

His head shakes in reply and his palms are on the asphalt. Instinctively, my eyes dart around looking for help.

His breathing sounds ragged and shallow when I sink to my knees beside him.

“Um…I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry.” I can feel tears burgeoning at the corner of my eyes. “Are you…” I reach for something—anything—I might know. “Are you having a panic attack?”

He nods.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay. Um…just breathe. That’s all you need to do right now. Oh my God, that must be the dumbest thing to say to someone having a panic attack.”

I have no clue what I’m doing but then I see a little water bottle in his pouch. Water. Okay. That should be good.

“Here.” I reach for it and go to offer some to his mouth. “Drink some of this.” He doesn’t even look at me or the bottle, but as I go to squeeze some out, the water squirts all over his face and streams down his cheeks.

It must be cold because he reels back in shock.

“Oh my God. I’m sorry. It’s alright.” I use my most soothing voice to reassure him.

“It’s going to be alright.” Knowing I have a tank top on underneath, I whip off my T-shirt and start dabbing at his face.

I keep blabbering calming nonsense, at this point it’s more for me than it is for him.

“It’s fine. It’s just water. It’s nothing bad.

It’s totally fine. That must have been uncomfortable, but it’s not dangerous. You’re good now.”

That’s when his bright blue eyes meet mine. I’ve never seen someone with such clear blue eyes. They’re gorgeous. Yet, they look pained. But also…amused.

“I can’t believe,” he pants, “that worked.” Then he sits back on his butt, legs bent up, arms draped over his knees.

“Oh my God, you’re okay?”

His breathing has calmed and there’s a half smirk on his face.

It’s gorgeous. “That has got to be the worst method for ending a panic attack, yet you somehow short circuited my brain.” His eyes drop to the T-shirt in my hand.

“I’m not sure if it was the water, the undressing, or the reassuring words, but…

” He shakes his head. “You’re right. I’m all good. ”

“Thank God.” I pull myself off the path and let my body sink into the grass. “That was exhausting.”

A loud bark of laughter causes me to tilt my head to him.

“I’m glad you pulled through that.”

Hearing the playful notes in his voice brings a coy smile to my face, and I like that he’s teasing me. “For a second there I wasn’t sure I’d make it.”

“You seem the type to be prepared for anything,” he says next to me on the grass.

My eyebrow shoots up. “And why would you assume that?”

“Well,” his head nods back to the bench I was sitting on, “You were taking notes in a park. So unless you’re a poet…”

“I was working on my To Do list.” I share with a face splitting smile. “I’ll have to add Research Panic Attacks now. Thanks for adding to my list.”

For a moment I think he’s going to say something, but when he doesn’t I feel the need to reassure him.

“I don’t mean that it’s a burden. I like learning new things. Actually, I love learning new things. So you actually did me a favor.”

His face lights up with an adorable smile, and he opens his mouth to say something again—

“Peyton! What are you doing here?” The guy I’m seeing, Mike, stops in his tracks. “Hey Wendell. I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“Oh hey man.” Wendell stands up and bro slaps Mike on the back. They both stare down at me for a second before both offering me a hand to get up.

And shit, if this doesn’t feel like the universe metaphorically asking me a question.

It’s like my brain hasn’t caught up to the moment though, and I grab Mike’s hand and stand up.

He was on my right side. He’s the one I know.

It only makes sense. But I’m staring at Wendell the whole time, and I think I see a flash of disappointment in his eyes.

“Oh,” Wendell stumbles for an answer. “We don’t know each other. We just met actually. I had an issue with my water bottle and she helped me out.”

Mike’s too engrossed in me to realize how odd that sounded. He presses a kiss to my temple. “Well, doesn’t matter. You two were bound to meet, being my teammate and all. Wendell, this is my girlfriend, Peyton.”

I bite my bottom lip and stick out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Wendell shakes my hand and a jolt of electricity shoots through the warmth in his palm. It zings all the way up my shoulder and down my spine.

“This is perfect.” Mike hasn’t stopped talking. His optimism is something that drew me to him in the first place. “You guys will be seeing a lot of each other. I’m sure we’ll all be the best of friends.”

“Friends,” Wendell echoes, still locked on my gaze. But the word sounds different coming from his lips. “Can never have too many friends.”