Puck Block : A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

I’m not sure what Taytum is waiting for.

I’m also not sure why I can’t just turn my back and pretend she doesn’t exist for the night. I’ve done it before, so I know it can be done. Except, this time, I’ve blatantly told her I won’t interfere, and I’m pretty certain it’s messing with me.

There’s been a safety net around Taytum for years between her brother and me, but now that she’s torn some bigger holes in the net, she’s able to swim away and up the stairs into some guy’s arms if she wants to.

Berkley moves beside me on the dance floor with his hands on some girl’s waist. “You got any whiskey?”

I crook a feigned smile at him. “I always have whiskey.” I pause. “But you don’t want it. I’ve seen the way you drink after we win a game.”

His brows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I chuckle. “You’ll have whiskey dick if you drink my whiskey.”

My flask is nearly empty anyway, and I don’t like to share.

The girl in his hands turns. She pats his chest with her red fingernails. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Her smile is flirty, and Berkley drags her off the dance floor right away to head for a bedroom. I turn and look for Taytum after pulling my half-empty flask out of my pocket. Everyone around us is having a good time, and I usually would be too, but how can I when she’s surrounded by a ton of guys who are vying for her attention, yet she’s still looking like a little wallflower.

“I’ll be back,” I say to the blondie that’s been dancing with me for the last twenty minutes. I move through the party after draining my flask. I’m the only one on the team that drinks something as strong as whiskey, but I didn’t grow up like most of my teammates–whiskey was the only thing aunt Jo kept in the house.

As soon as I center myself in Taytum’s ring of brave admirers, they all scatter like marbles. I laugh under my breath and lean against the same wall that’s been holding her up for most of the party.

“Are you kidding me?” she huffs.

I turn my head and peer down at her. “I thought you weren’t going to cock block me tonight!”

I snort. “I block pucks, not cocks.”

With the way Taytum’s nose wrinkles, I know she’s about to snap back. “Well, I’m about to cock block you. I’ll tell that girl you have herpes.”

A loud laugh leaves me, and some drunken college girls look back and show off their glossy eyes. “I do not have herpes.”

Taytum moves in front of me, and the girls all turn around. I raise an eyebrow but continue to lean against the wall with my arms crossed in a relaxed manner.

“Stop cock blocking me,” she sasses.

Her pretty eyes dart away, and I watch her carefully. I’ve seen Taytum command a room with a single wink before, but right now, she’s stiffer than she was the night she found me with two of her friends in her childhood bedroom.

Not my best moment, I’ll admit.

“Alright, that’s it.” I grab her hand and pull her through the party until I find a deserted corner. “What’s going on with you? I thought you wanted your pick of the litter without me or Emory interfering.” I gesture to the party. “And I distinctly remember you telling me, no less than a couple of hours ago, that you didn’t need my help.”Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

Even though Taytum and I are tucked back into a corner with nothing but the cheap disco light I gifted to the football house flashing over us, I can see the red tint on her cheeks. I take the back of my hand and press it to her warm face. “Talk to me, Heartbreaker.”

Taytum shoves my hand away, but her voice is fragile. “I…I don’t know how to do this.” She turns to hide, and I instantly feel like shit. “How am I supposed to just go up to some guy and… Damn it, Ford. You and Emory ruined me! I know how to flirt and skim the line, but…then what?”

Doesn’t she understand that all she has to do is throw those beautiful blue eyes in some guy’s direction, and he’ll buckle at the knees? He’ll do anything she says.

I reach up and grab her chin gently, pulling her face to mine. The truth comes out a little more sincere than I mean for it to. “Just be you.”

The light catches her watery eyes. “That’s just it,” she says. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.” She bounces her attention across my face. “I’ve been so focused on defying you and Emory for the last several years, and now I’m stuck with trying to please everyone, and I’m so worried about this dumb thing…” She flicks her elbow, and my eyes fall to the lump on her arm. “I don’t even know how to make my own decisions anymore.”

I try to lighten the mood with a quippy joke. “You mean, you don’t know how to make your own decisions when you aren’t trying to actively piss Emory and me off?”

Taytum’s lip twitches, and I know I’ve got her attention again. My hand tightens on her chin, and she peeks at me through her dark lashes. “How about this? Just go out there and take what you want. Someone will give it to you willingly.”

You know, like every guy at this party.

Hockey player or not.

She rolls her eyes. “But how and who?”

I gawk at the rowdy party before pulling my attention to her again. I drop my hands and smirk. “Watch and learn.”

Taytum’s brows knit together, and I turn to walk over to the blonde that hasn’t been able to keep her eyes off me since showing up two hours ago.

“You’re back?” she peeps.

I place my hands on her hips, and my fingers slip beneath her shirt just enough to feel her warmth against them. I pull her in close, and a sweet gasp flies from her mouth with surprise. “Let’s dance.”

I take her arms, put them around my neck, and place my hands back to their rightful spot. I move her hips in the way that I want with the button of her tight jeans rubbing against me. When I glance at Taytum, she’s in the same spot that I left her in, with her eyes glued to my every move.

I push things a little further. I spin my partner around and pull her in to close the gap between us. Her ass is rubbing against my dick to the beat of the music, and her head tips back into my chest.

“You played a good game tonight,” she whispers while looping her arm up and over her head. She grips the ends of my hair, and I grin.

“I know.” I wink before stealing a glance at Taytum. Our eyes meet from across the party, and she’s nibbling on her bottom lip. I raise my eyebrows and mouth the word, See?

She doesn’t look convinced. But if I can stand here and touch another girl in front of her, then surely she can get out on this dance floor and grab some guy by the hand. I’ve stood back and watched her flirt endlessly until I’m fuming so much I can’t take it anymore, so what exactly is stopping her now?

My stomach twists the longer she stares at what my hands are doing. There’s a hitch in my pulse when I notice her breathing is a little more erratic than usual, and there’s something wickedly dangerous brewing in my blood at the thought of Taytum being turned on.

I act quickly and shift my attention. I gently push the puck bunny to the far wall, catty-corner from my little audience, and back her up against it. My knee wiggles in between her jean-clad legs, and I slowly run my hand up her thigh. The tingling in my fingertips draws attention to her curves, but I know it’s a desperate attempt to pull myself together instead of focusing on Taytum’s dazed expression.

Except, the moment I steal a glance, I burn.

The girl I grew up with, the only one I have ever confided in, the only one who has ever called me out on my bullshit and seen me at my very worst, is staring at me with fuck-me eyes and plump, parted lips, like she’s about to touch herself at the show I’m putting on for her.

It’s not true.

It can’t be.

But damn. Just the thought of it pushes me a little bit further.