Ruled Out (Seattle Scorpions #4)

Ruled Out (Seattle Scorpions #4)

By Ruth Stilling

Prologue

PROLOGUE

NOVEMBER

JESSIE

D o you ever stare at something so beautiful that it makes you wonder if that’s what true happiness looks like?

Me too.

For most people, it’s the stars in a clear night sky as they shine from an alternate universe. We know they’re unreachable and something we’ll never get to hold or touch in our lifetime, but still, they offer hope when we need it most. They remind us that there’s another, more peaceful world out there.

I’m one of the lucky ones because I get to hold on to my happiness whenever I get a chance. The second no one is watching, I get to touch Mia Jenkins like she is mine and I am hers.

She isn’t millions of miles away from me; she’s right here, holding my hand, reminding my body that true happiness exists even when my mind refuses to believe it.

“I wish we could stay here forever.” She squeezes my hand tightly, our fingers intertwined and resting on the cold metal.

It’s freezing cold as the Dallas winter draws closer, but I doubt either of us can feel the chill. Only the warm puffs of air as we speak remind us that we’re crazy for sitting on the hood of my car, stargazing in the middle of nowhere.

Except I’m not looking at the stars, like Mia. I’m watching her instead, making the most of what I can get.

And I can’t get enough of this girl right next to me.

From the second I walked into my general manager’s office two months ago, expecting to be reamed out for another shit practice, I’ve been incapable of staying away from her. She’s eighteen—four years younger than me—but wiser than most people I know.

Wiser than me.

Stronger than me.

With my free hand, I reach over and adjust her earmuff, whispering into the shell of her ear, “In theory, we can. If you’re okay with freezing to death.”

She leans back on my windshield and blows out a long, defeated breath. “Ever wonder what it would be like not to sneak around? Or maybe not to give a fuck at all?”

More times than you know.

“Yeah, but every time I do, it ends in your dad burying me six feet under.”

And that’s the thing—my happiness might be tangible, but it’s also temporary. We sneak around, steal kisses, and carry on in private like she isn’t the daughter of the GM of my team, the Dallas Destroyers—the guy who saw my raw talent in school and gave me a shot at life.

When we’re together, we live in a bubble with only enough room for me and her. When her dad’s away on a golf trip we take long drives into the night. When she’s working in his office and he’s out of town on business, we make out on his desk. There could be thirty people outside his door, but we take our chances to steal another moment. When Graham Jenkins ignored all the warnings from former coaches, telling him not to sign my unreliable ass, I doubt he envisaged the opportunity he gave me would result in my tongue down his princess’s throat every opportunity I got.

Mia twists her lips to the side as I continue to watch her stargaze. When she turns her head to me as we lie side by side, her green eyes light up with excitement, and her long, dark hair blows around in the wind.

She’s spectacular.

“When summer rolls around, we could go to this drive-in theater I’ve been desperate to check out. They show older movies. I asked Dad to take me last summer, but he refused.” She rolls her eyes and attempts her best impression of her overbearing father. “ It’s just a bunch of kids making out in cars and drinking underage.”

I laugh and rub the side of my little finger against hers. “Not a bad effort. All you need now is a beard, and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.” I pull my hand from hers and take her chin between my thumb and forefinger, rubbing her soft skin gently. “Oh wait, you’re already working on that.”

“Hey!” she squeals, swatting me in the chest.

One of the benefits of being a pro hockey player is the lightning reflexes you develop, and I easily catch her hand in mine before she has time to move away.

The cornfields whistle in the swirling wind, but that’s the only sound we can hear as I pull her closer, my left hand still gripping her chin, tilting her lips toward mine. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, Sweetheart. You and me.”

“Always?” she asks, hope blooming in her pretty eyes.

I swallow thickly, digesting her plea. I never lie—and especially not to Mia. But I can’t promise always . As much as I know we’re breaking staff-player rules, I’m all too aware of the real reason Graham Jenkins would kill me if he found out I was seeing his only daughter—I’m no good for her.

And he’d be right. Having Mia Jenkins in my life is a blessing I’ll never take for granted, but equally, it’s a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

So, instead of answering her question, I brush my lips against hers, hoping my mouth can show her all the things she makes me feel. Even if I can never say the words I know she longs to hear.

Her scent is a window to another existence I long to have. Her touch is a reminder that peace and happiness do exist. Her kisses make my heart beat for a reason other than fear.

Her dad might have saved me from the wreckage of my childhood and given me a chance in life, but his daughter makes me feel alive.

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