Totally Pucked (My Hockey Romance #2.5) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella, Sports Tags Authors: Series: My Hockey Romance Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 10
Estimated words: 9281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 46(@200wpm)___ 37(@250wpm)___ 31(@300wpm)
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“All right. Fair enough,” my friend says. I’ve known him for a couple years, since he’s kind of a mentor type. I was recently called up from the minors and have been playing in the pros for two seasons. I’ve had a good run so far, and he’s been looking out for me. But teammate time ends shortly when I meet up with Katie.

I grab the snow globe and plunk it down on the counter, then say hello to the woman working the register.

As she rings it up, Hayes studies me curiously. “Why now? Why are you giving my wife’s sister a gift tonight?” He asks, since he’s married to Katie’s sister Ivy.

“Because your wife’s sister is also my friend,” I point out. “And can’t a guy just give a gal a present at the most wonderful time of the year?”

Hayes rolls his eyes. “I suspect you have ulterior motives.”

“What kind?” I ask, meeting his gaze head-on.

He smiles like he was just granted access to every team’s video review room in the league. “Oh, gee, like maybe you’re hoping this snow globe will help you tell her that you’ve been secretly in love with her your whole life?”

I scoff. “No. Dude. Seriously, I just want to thank her in advance for helping me out tomorrow. I’m going to ask her to go to this whole lighting festival thing that the team’s publicist asked me to do on behalf of Little Friends,” I explain. “I’m asking her as my friend.”

But the truth is she’s a sexy, feisty, smart friend who I can’t stop thinking about.

“So it’s a fluff gift for your publicity request,” Hayes says as I finish the transaction. After I thank the clerk, we head out of the store into the chilly night.

I stop to consider his assessment. “I think of it more like a pre-gift for my friend date request,” I correct him.

“Whatever you say,” he says and once Hayes takes off, I head to The Spotted Zebra to meet her, but the whole way I keep noodling on what Hayes said.

That I’m angling for a make-out sesh under the mistletoe.

That can’t be right. Can it?

But when I reach The Spotted Zebra and see Katie walking down the street, I mouth wow.

3

THE DEVIL IS ME

Fisher

There’s only one explanation for the way I am staring at Katie like I can’t look away.

Hayes is the devil. He is the motherfucking devil on my shoulder, whispering in my ear, “Has your best friend always been that sexy?”

But damn…

Katie’s smile, her pretty pink lips, her big brown eyes, her fair skin and rosy cheeks, that chestnut hair, all silky and long.

Yup. The devil is out tonight, and he is getting bigger and bigger.

There’s an angel on my other shoulder whispering, “She’s your friend. She’s your best friend. Friends don’t think about what friends look like naked.”

But that angel is shrinking down to a speck as Katie reaches me, then sweeps some hair from her cheeks before she looks up into the murky starless sky. “I was promised snow,” she says, then playfully stomps her foot. “I want sledding, and snow angels, and snowmen. Is that too much to ask?”

“I’ll see if I can order up some snow for you,” I say. Then, since I’m holding a gift bag in one hand, I wrap my free arm around her in a friendly bear hug like I’ve always done and…

That was a rookie mistake.

The devil climbed up my back, wrestled the angel to the ground, and took the fuck over. Because I catch the scent of her hair. She smells like jasmine and midnight. Has she always smelled that good?

My train has left Friendship Station and it’s picking up speed as it rattles into Dirty Depot.

I let go of her. Better not linger on how pretty her eyes are, or how lush her lips are.

Katie doesn’t seem bothered by the quick disengagement. Instead, she arches a brow and returns to my comment, asking, “But what if what I really want is spiked hot cocoa?”

Yes! I jump on her question like it’s a puck that just dropped, stat. “Then you are in luck. Let’s get some hot cocoa and whipped cream and marshmallows, all for a good cause,” I say, trying desperately to focus on innocent things, normal things, friendly things.

Like this tasting, where all the money goes to animal rescues, just like the lighting festival.

I open the door to The Spotted Zebra, holding it for her like a perfect gentleman. “After you, Giraffe,” I say, hoping the childhood nickname helps my cause.

“Thank you, Troublemaker,” she says, using mine. Well, I was a troublemaker. Apparently, I still am. At least my libido needs to be locked up with the key thrown away when it comes to my best friend.

We head into the familiar bar, saying hello to my cousin Carter, and his wife Rachel, who comes to this party every year.


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