Hot Puck, A Rough Riders Hockey Novel
Hot Puck: Chapter 12

Eden brushed out her wet hair while avoiding Tori’s eyes in the reflection of the mirror in the ambulance company’s sleeping quarters. Her friend had come in early for her shift, then cornered Eden in the girls-only space to pin her down about a subject Eden had been dodging all week.

“You didn’t return any of his texts?” Tori asked, her brow furrowed in frustration. “I swear you take one step forward and two steps back.”

Eden tossed the brush into her duffel and ran her fingers through her hair, shaking it out. “How is that two steps back?” she grumbled. “I dipped my toes back into the ocean. That doesn’t mean I want to start swimming with sharks.”

Tori stabbed a finger at her. “That’s exactly the problem.”

Eden lifted her arms out to the sides. “What is exactly the problem?”

“You still see men as sharks.”

She rolled her eyes. “It was a—”

“Freudian slip.”

“Metaphor,” Eden corrected, turning away from her friend and throwing her uniform into the bag. She hated this topic. It brought up a lot of problems she thought she’d dealt with—until now. Until Beckett.

“You stereotype, and you know it. If Beckett were a contractor, would you see him again? Or a mechanic? Or a fireman? Or a doctor?”

Eden made a face. She couldn’t see Beckett as any of those things. “I don’t know.” Frustration frazzled her already frayed nerves. “Maybe.”

“You’re stereotyping him, and you know it—Beckett’s a hockey player; therefore, he’s violent.”

She turned on Tori, ready to come out of her skin. “I looked into it, okay? I didn’t scratch the guy off my list without any thought.”

“Ha, your list. That’s a good one. I’ve seen you in action. I’ve seen you go toe to toe with gangbangers, cops; hell, I’ve seen you tell doctors to get their heads out of their asses. You are not going to get me to believe you’re scared of one damned hockey player.”

“I work with those people. I’m not involved with them.”

“For an extremely levelheaded, rational woman, you’re not making any sense.”

Angry now, she turned on Tori. “Hockey is second only to football in its level of violence, and there is a forty percent increase in domestic violence among pro football players. Why, why, why would I put myself at a higher risk after what I’ve been through?”

Tori tossed her hands in the air. “You must be putting all those brains of yours into your paramedic program, because you sure didn’t research that information very well.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I did a little research of my own, because I care about you and because I sure don’t want to encourage you into a bad situation. And I found that the NHL is embracing a new policy on domestic abuse, which includes required training for all members. They take it very seriously.”

“After watching a dozen of Beckett’s previous games over the last week, that policy won’t make it any easier to sleep at night.” Eden massaged her forehead. “I’ve seen the way he plays. I’ve seen his hits, his fights. I’ve seen how aggressive, how physical, how violent he is. I don’t care what the statistics say. I’ve seen the raw anger on his face when the cameras focus in on him. He’s intense, and it fuckin’ scares me sometimes, okay?”

“You know what, Eden, you fuckin’ scare me sometimes.”

“What?” She threw her arms out to the sides. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“When you confront people in the field before law enforcement arrives. You do it all the time. And sometimes it scares me.”

Eden was taken aback, and she scanned her memory. “I do that because I’ve had training, and because it puts distance between us and the creeps. Letting them know we’re not going to take their shit keeps both us and our patients safe.”

“Which is exactly what Beckett does on the ice. He’s had training too. And making sure the other teams know there will be consequences if they come down too hard on his players keeps everyone safer. You don’t bring your hostility home. You don’t confront random people in the streets. You certainly don’t turn your anger on those closest to you. So why do you assume Beckett will?”

She exhaled, crossed her arms, and stared at the floor. Tears stung her eyes. “I really like him,” she said softly. “And I’m really scared of that. I understand what you’re saying, but no numbers are ever going to make me feel safe when violence is a way of life for him. And maybe that’s a sign that I’m not ready.”

Tori shrugged. “Only you can decide.”

Eden recognized the look of pity on her face, and she couldn’t take it. She opened the bedroom door, and voices from the kitchen signaled shift change. She hiked her duffel over her shoulder, and Tori followed her into the front room, where Eden said good-bye to the two other EMTs in the kitchen.

Tori walked out front with Eden. “You have to be comfortable with your decision, but sometimes you also have to stretch your comfort zones a little.”

Eden sighed and shrugged, her mind already drifting to whether she should walk to Metro or catch a bus at the corner. She glanced toward the street to check traffic, and the sight at the curb pounded a stab of shock through her gut.

Beckett leaned on a car at the curb. Waiting.

Her heart kicked into a double beat. Fear tightened her gut and pulled at the muscles along her shoulders. Eden reflexively took a step back. She cut a look in every direction, taking in her surroundings and her quickest exits.

Tori stopped short next to her. “Is that—”

“Yes,” she nearly hissed the word.

Tori frowned. “Did you know—”

“No.”

“Dayum,” Tori said. “He’s way hotter in person.” Tori glanced at Eden, then turned to fully face her with narrowed eyes. “Eden, stop.” The bite in Tori’s voice cut into Eden’s rising panic. “Look at me.”

Eden tore her gaze from Beckett and focused on Tori.

“He is not John. He is a major public figure who would suffer horrible repercussions if he abused a woman. He’s here because he’s hot for you and because you didn’t answer his texts.”

Eden fought to clear the panic from her head.

“Breathe.”

Eden took a deep breath, feeling like she’d regressed years. “I’m okay.”

“Good, because if you look a little closer”—Tori’s grin returned along with a spark of excitement in her eyes—“you’ll see he’s leaning against a Porsche.”

She didn’t see a Porsche anywhere near Beckett, but now that Tori had knocked her head back into place, Eden was kinda focused on the smile lifting his full mouth. He pulled sunglasses off and tucked one arm of the shades into the collar of his Rough Riders jersey.

God, he looked great. So handsome and vibrant. Not a trace of the fury he showed on the ice. She never expected him to make this kind of effort to see her again.

He straightened away from an SUV but didn’t approach.

She needed to make a decision. She needed to tell him their one night was over and she didn’t want to see him again. Or… Or she had to actually try to give life more effort than a cursory one-night stand.

She swore under her breath.

Tori frowned at her. “How the hell did you ever get into bed with him?”

“Loneliness, desperation, and alcohol?”

Tori rolled her eyes, then turned and approached Beckett, hand held out. “I’m Tori.”

Beckett shook Tori’s hand. And his smile… His smile made Eden feel like she’d plummeted down the steepest slope of a roller coaster.

She approached, trying like hell not to notice how freaking attractive he was with the morning sun making gold streaks pop in his hair and highlighting a day’s worth of stubble on his jaw. He seemed so big, taller and more muscular than she remembered. And he wore jeans and cross-trainers with his jersey. Eden had to admit, the casual look relaxed her a little and allowed her to get her feet moving toward him.

Tori released Beckett’s hand. “I’d better see what trouble I can stir up inside. Nice to meet you, Beckett.”

“You too,” he said.

Then Eden’s buffer was gone, and she was standing face-to-face with Beckett Croft again.

His grin widened and softened. “Hi.”

She tried to match his smile, but she was too intensely aware of him. “Hi.”

“I scared you, huh?” His brow pulled with concern. “Showing up like this.”

She lowered her gaze. “It was a little unnerving to replace you here.”

“I was afraid of that.” He stepped toward her, reached out, and slid his index finger down her forearm, then linked it with her pinkie. Tingles spread along her skin, and her lungs tightened up again. “Sorry. I didn’t know how else to get ahold of you.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I know.”

“Here’s the thing, Eden.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’m not the kind of guy who sits back and lets things happen to him. I’m the kind of guy who goes out and makes things happen. My mom calls it ADHD, or OCD, or plain old making trouble, but whatever, no one’s perfect, right?”

That made Eden laugh and loosened some nerves.

“The truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the last six days,” he said. “So I couldn’t take the thanks-for-the-hookup note or the unanswered texts as proof that you weren’t interested. I had to come and see what that looks like up close and personal.”

“Yeah.” A soft laugh rolled out. “I guess you aren’t very familiar with that, are you?”

He winced and chuckled. “Ouch. Has someone been looking into my history?”

“Six days is a long time to think about something.”

“Very true. Felt like a damn month to me.” He threaded their fingers together and met her eyes directly, his expression serious. “Tell me you’re not interested, and I’ll go. I promise not to bother you again.”

So charming. So genuine. Oh, what she would give to be able to accept a man at face value again. And she could. She just had to choose to do it.

“I’ve been—”

“Busy.” He nodded, his expression serious. “I know. I kept telling myself you have more important things to do. That both our lives are already way too full. And a hundred other reasons I should have driven home from the airport this morning instead of straight here.”

She took a breath. “The truth is…I’m not sure about this. Everything inside me tells me it’s a bad idea.”

“Fair enough.” He seemed to take that in stride. “I’m not sure about this either. What I am sure of is that you promised me breakfast and bailed.”

She exhaled a laugh. “True.”

“So let me take you now,” he suggested, then added, “unless you have school.’

“Not till this afternoon.”

“Breakfast? Somewhere extremely public? So we can get to know each other better? We can even take your car if you’d be more comfortable driving.”

“My car is Metro.”

His face went slack a second, but he came back strong. “I can do Metro.”

She laughed. “Oh, that deer in the headlights was priceless.”

His hand felt so good in hers. Big and warm. Six short days, and she’d already forgotten how good it felt when he touched her. She closed her fingers around his, and her chest knotted at the rightness of it.

She searched beyond those damned blinders and stereotypes and fears, the way Tori had with her research.

And she found solid ground.

Yes, she really wanted to see where this went.

Eden nodded and smiled up at him. “Okay. Breakfast.”