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

Puck Block : Chapter 11



The crowd is on fire, and booze is spilling all over the place from everyone jumping up and down. A smile reaches my lips when I watch the black-and-white jerseys come together on the ice with their sticks raised high.

Claire is jumping beside me, and I laugh at her excitement. Theo, who just scored the goal, points at her, and even I can feel the warmth. Our hands clasp, and we raise them in the air. I shift my attention to the one Bexley U player who is skating laps around the ice, encouraging the fans to roar louder, before he nearly tackles Theo with excitement.

Ford is skilled beyond belief on the ice–as are most of the Bexley U players–but he doesn’t get a lot of recognition because he’s never the one shooting the goals. His assists, though? Those are insane, and it’s something Theo brags about every time he has an interview. In fact, Ford is close to breaking the school’s record. My smile grows deeper when he takes Ford’s gloved hand and raises it in the air for the crowd to cheer his name too.

Ford eats up the attention.

He bows like a ballerina, and I can’t help but laugh.

There’s one minute left in the game, and Bexley U has it in the bag. I pull out my phone and video chat with my parents so they can catch the end celebration.

My mom’s face is the first to appear, and although I told them I’d call when the game was almost over so they could catch the live action, her first reaction is to worry.

“Is everything okay?”

I sigh. “I’m fine, Mom. Enjoy the game.”

I flip the camera around at the perfect time, because Emory blocks a puck. The crowd loses it again, and there are multiple fans high-fiving one another. A few moments later, the buzzer sounds, and the game is over.

The team comes together on the ice, and I hear my dad talking about the scouts that are at the game, watching the guys. They’ll be off to the pros later this year—there is no doubt about it. Unfortunately, I’ll be stuck here, still testing my sugar and injecting insulin.

That is, if my parents don’t try to guilt me into moving home so I can be closer, since Emory and Ford will be off somewhere else. There’s a flicker of sadness at the thought of them leaving, but that is ridiculous because, since high school, I’ve wished for nothing else but for them to give me space. Now that it’s about to become a reality, though, I notice the tiniest bit of emptiness.

I shake my head at the thought.

That’s exactly why I need to start dating and tapping into that independent light that’s been dimmed for years. Otherwise, I’ll be lost when they leave.

“You ready?” Claire pulls on my hand.

I nod and tell my parents to hold on while we follow a few of the other girlfriends of players on the team toward the locker rooms. We meet the guys there after every game and head to the after-party together, where Claire ends up leaving with Theo, and I get hauled out by my brother or Ford.

It’s loads of fun.

“Sweetheart?” I put my attention back on my phone.

“Sorry, Mom. We’re walking to the locker room. Want me to just tell Emory to call you later? It may be his turn to give an interview.”

She nods and sends me a soft smile. “Sure. But before you go…”

Here it is. Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“How were your sugar levels today? Are they starting to level?”

“They were fine. They seem to be leveling now that I’m able to keep better track of it with the monitor,” I lie and also leave out the part where I accidentally forgot my phone in my bedroom while I was in the common room studying, and my sugar levels rose a little too high. It’s a great feature to have your levels on your phone–except when you leave your phone in another room.

My dad sighs from nearby, and I see his hand squeeze my mom’s shoulder. A muscle in her jaw ticks, and I furrow my brow at their silent encounter. “Okay, good. We love you. Be safe.”

I say my goodbyes and hang up, but I’m left with the taste of concern that quickly vanishes when the guys begin to pile out of the locker room. Theo pulls Claire in for a hug, and I stand by, admiring them. There’s a gang of puck bunnies behind us that glance at him before remembering that he’s taken, and then they move on to the next set of hockey players, which just so happens to be Ford, Emory, and Berkley. Aasher, the co-captain, moves right past them and gives Theo a nod before going down the hall to leave, likely to find Riley.

“We going to the party after The Bex?” Theo asks Claire.

She looks at me, and I know it’s her way of asking if I want her to go.

“You know I’m fine going alone. I have the girls from the house that I can take with me.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ford says, sliding up beside me. I lean forward, seeing there’s a girl tagging along beside him, and I’m instantly annoyed.

“No thanks.”

He peers down at me and raises an eyebrow. “So you’re not going to the party?”

I laugh. “Oh, I’m going.” My chin raises, and I straighten my shoulders. “Just not with you.” Theo and Claire laugh, and we start to walk down the hall, but I stop when I feel Ford’s breath tickle my ear. “I thought you wanted my help, Heartbreaker.”

My heart skips. “All I need from you tonight is to back off. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The girl pinned to his side shoots me a dirty look, and I smile.

“I’ll see ya there,” I say to Ford before winking at the puck bunny. He chuckles quietly and reaches for her hand.

When I slide up beside Claire, I ask her if I can borrow her black top from the other night.

Theo answers for her, “Yes, and keep it.”

Claire looks over at him. “What? Why?”

He snorts. “Because it’s a hot top, and every guy pictures you beneath him when you wear it.”

I smile. “Perfect.”

Me: Theo was right.

Claire: About the top? Let me see!

I step back from my mirror and snap a picture before sending it to Claire. It’s a little more revealing than I usually go for, but my glucose monitor is hardly visible through the mesh lining. It’s snug in all the right spots, and if you look hard enough, you can see my lacy bra through the fabric. My ripped jeans show off some of my thigh, and the black strappy heels pull the outfit together.

My head tips back, and my blonde hair falls down my back. I swallow my vitamin and head for the door where Sadie and Liv are waiting. We sit in the back of the Uber while on the way to the party, and although they’re only a year younger than me, I run over the Party Girl Rules that every sister has to memorize in their first year of the sorority.

The idea of these rules started when one of our sisters was sexually assaulted at a party a couple of years back–by a hockey player, nonetheless. That’s the entire reason why the hockey team doesn’t have their own house on campus. The coach put an end to that real quick.

“Use the buddy system,” Sadie says, glancing at Liv.

Liv holds up her finger when she repeats another rule. “Never take a drink from someone random.”

“And…?” I ask.

“Never leave your drink unattended.”

I nod in between them and squeeze both of their hands. “Can I trust you two to get home safely without me?”

Sadie laughs softly. “We’re not the youngest in the house, you know that, right?”

The car comes to a stop, and the Uber driver, an older male who has been quiet the entire ride, speaks up. “It doesn’t matter how old you are. People make stupid choices all the time.”

“Touché,” I say, siding with him.

I peek up at him in the rearview mirror, and he smiles. “I have a daughter, and I have to say, she’d be lucky to have a friend like you.”

I smile. “Thank you. Have a good night.”

He nods and says, “Be safe.” Before pulling away.

The door to the football house is wide open when the three of us skip up the stairs. Even though it’s freezing outside, it’s so congested inside that it feels hot and muggy when we enter the party. I ping-pong my gaze around the room and brace myself for the scathing look I know I’ll get from Emory, but then I feel a hand snake around my waist.

I know it’s Ford without looking.

“He’s not here,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re off the hook.”

Butterflies rush to my belly. I get a whiff of his crisp cologne when I turn slightly. His blue eyes grip me, and although he’s sporting his charming grin, his shoulders are tense.

“Enjoy your night of freedom, Taytum.”

Ford’s throat bobs, and he lingers on my face for a breath before turning and storming the dance floor. He steals a drink from an innocent bystander and tips it back before dropping the cup to the floor. I watch in silence as he runs his gaze down my outfit and then back to my face. He shakes his head slightly, but to my surprise, he turns away.

And suddenly, I’m left to my own devices.


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