Rinkmates: A steamy Hockey Romance (The Mates series Book 1)

I bang on the bathroom door again, desperate. “Lia, come on! Open up, I’m about to burst! I mean it.”

“I’m shaving!” she calls back over the pounding water, and for fuck’s sake, this one bathroom situation is my nightmare. Having an expensive apartment is great and all, until you need to replace items and find out they take forever to arrive because they’re handmade. I considered just buying something from IKEA, but since I’ve already paid for it, I guess I’m stuck waiting.

“I need to look flawless for our dress rehearsal tonight! Grace is going to kill me otherwise,” she yells.

I sigh, hopping from foot to foot. Damn my genius idea of not installing doors that open from the outside. “Woman! It’s an emergency!”

“Fine. I’m hurrying up.”

“Faster!”

“I. Said. I’m. Hurrying. Up!”

I bang at the door again. “Open it or you’ll regret it!” Well, I guess I’ll regret it because I’m going to pee in my pants.

All I get in response is an annoyed hiss.

I give the door one last frustrated kick before my eyes land on Oscar in the corner. Desperate times…

I run, open my jeans, and—she’s yelling my name, but I don’t care anymore, all I care about is making it to the plant in time. In my peripheral vision, I notice the bathroom door flying open, steam billowing out as she stands there in that pink bathrobe I forced her to wear in the bathroom as a safety measure, hair tied up high. And I hold my dick with the biggest smile there is, relieving myself into her hideous plant.

I shrug. “I told you to let me in.”

And for the first damn time, Liora James is left speechless and without a clever comeback.

“You’re a caveman, Riley Huntington,” she says, throwing a towel at my head. “If Oscar dies, you owe me a new plant.”

I sigh in relief as my bladder finally empties, then tuck everything back into my jeans, grinning like the cat who got the cream. This was so worth it, if not for saving my bladder, then for that look on her face. “I told you to open the door.”

“I swear, if I see your dick ever again—”

“You’ll give it a kiss, baby?”

She snorts, muttering something while finally storming off in a huff, blonde ponytail swishing.

I barely have time to toss the towel aside before there’s pounding at the front door. Jayce and Derek barge in, our rookie Shane trailing behind them.

“Party time!” Shane bellows, arms full of beer. “Last chance to let loose before the play-offs, boys!”

I watch as they dump the booze on my kitchen counter. Maybe getting trashed is what we need to smooth things over after that fight at practice. Or maybe it’s the dumbest idea we ever had.

Derek approaches me as I stock my fridge with some of the beers. “Hey, man, about the other day…sorry, again. I was way out of line. I know you’ve been through a lot. No hard feelings?”

I almost huff out a laugh. Growing up with ice-cold parents and an obsessive need to be the best—he doesn’t know the half of it. But I clap him on the back anyway. “Water under the bridge. Let’s just focus on bonding as a team tonight, eh? God knows we’ll need it for the postseason games.”

As the guys start setting up for the party, I survey my apartment. It’s about to get wild in here. I know not everyone from the team is coming—lots of the married guys are spending time off with their families. But our core crew always rounds up some other friends to get rowdy with when we have the chance.

It was Derek’s and my idea. He came to me right after Liora scared the living daylights out of him. She somehow got him to apologize, and with everyone on the team still fuming over the whole mess, we all decided it was high time for a party. Derek and I offered to foot the bill. Gotta bond and forget about the crappy months we’ve had.

That damn lawsuit is still dragging on, causing headaches for everyone. But now, we’re facing off against the Boston Bears in our first play-off game, and we all know they’ll be coming at us hard, seeking revenge. They almost didn’t make it into the play-offs, thanks to me. And with Houston back and fully recovered, it’s going to be a bloodbath on that field for sure.

I even shot Coach an invite tonight, but he just snorted. I spend enough time wrangling you shitheads at the rink. I’ll pass on doing it during my downtime too. He’s probably right on that one. We planned on making some chili for the crew and talking things out. I think it’s the right thing to do. Derek and I have hated each other since the start, it’s time to let those feelings go.

The team is family. Period.

With an air of frustration, Colton barges into the room and plops down on my dining table, tossing a stack of papers while grumbling in Russian.

“What’s with him?” I ask Jayce while he drops the ingredients on my kitchen counter.

Jayce gives me a knowing look, raising his eyebrows and making some wiggly motions. That’s all I need to know that he got mail again.

I suck in a sharp breath and Shane is all ears. “What? What’s wrong with King?” We all try to casually glance at him, thinking we’re being sneaky while looking like a bunch of nosy gossips.

“That crazy bitch,” Colton says, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he furiously types on his phone.

“Wowza,” I say. “He’s aaangry.”

“He’s been the worst to ride with to your place,” Jayce says, and I know what he means.

Colton usually is a man of few or no words, but when he’s angry, it’s like he forgets English and starts spewing out heavy Russian curses. We’ll ask him what’s wrong and all we get are snarls in return. So whenever he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, you can bet your bottom dollar you’ll need to learn Russian to get through to him.Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“But what’s up?” Shane says.

Derek gives me a look, silently pleading for permission to spill the beans. But we all know Colton’s current legal mess isn’t exactly top secret. If it weren’t for our blabbermouth of a younger friend, he’d already have the scoop. But I give in. The sooner Shane shuts up, the better. “Go ahead,” I tell Derek.

“Colton’s in a legal smackdown,” he says. “His ex took their daughter to England, violating their joint custody. He’s fighting tooth and nail for full custody now, since she’s not mom material and just in it for his money.”

“And then there’s the lawyer drama,” Jayce adds, his knife slicing through onions with surgical precision. “Colton insisted on hiring the top custody attorney in New York, the same girl he used to bully during their senior year of high school. She’s agreed to represent him, but only if she can call him names throughout the case. They’ve been at it for weeks—each time he gets mail, he’s like this.”

“King bullied a girl?” Shane’s jaw drops, and the minced meat nearly slips from his hand. He stares at me, wide eyed and slack jawed, as if I’d just told him the moon was made of cheese.

“I didn’t bully her,” Colton snaps back. “I just moved to the states from Russia, my English was shit. So I didn’t stop the goons from picking on her for her red hair, curves, and braces like I probably should have. But now I’m paying through the nose for legal fees. Fucking shit!”

We all exchange stunned glances, shocked that Colton has strung together more than a sentence.

Jayce blinks at me, and I give him a shrug.

Looks like this lawyer’s getting under Colton’s skin.

“You gonna read us that letter?” I ask with a grin.

Colton slams the paper down on the counter, his expression dark and intense. If I didn’t know him as one of my closest friends, I’d be terrified just by the way he’s looking at me. He just looks like he’s straight out of a mafia movie.

“Oh, absolutely,” Shane chimes in.

“Read loud and clear, King,” Jayce says with a sheepish smile.

Colton grunts. “I’ll only read the first sentences because this woman is crazy. Look at this shit:

‘Dearest dickhead,

Congratulations! You’ve managed to turn what should have been a routine custody battle into a comedy that would make even the Three Stooges cringe. I hope you’re proud of yourself, because I’m sitting here questioning all my life choices. Let’s address the elephant in the room—yes, you are indeed a colossal idiot.’”

King grunts out in frustration. “I don’t even know what she meant with ‘Stooges’ and had to google. I thought I needed to google legal shit, not some American slapstick shit.”

I glance at Jayce, who’s barely containing his laughter, his eyes wide with amusement. We share a look that speaks volumes: he found his nemesis.

Just as I’m about to catch my breath from laughing, the bathroom door swings open, and Liora walks out like a force of nature. Instantly, the room falls silent. There she stands, looking fierce and drop-dead gorgeous in a costume that leaves little to the imagination. My initial amusement fades, replaced by a surge of protectiveness that catches me off guard.

“No way,” I blurt out, trying to sound authoritative but failing miserably. I toss the limes I was holding onto the kitchen counter, not caring where they land. Closing the distance between us, I face her head-on. “You’re not taking the subway dressed like that.”

Liora arches an eyebrow at me, her expression daring. “Like what?”

I gesture vaguely at her outfit, struggling to find words. “That…barely there thing. You can’t just strut around the city in that. This isn’t Springfield.”

Her frown deepens, and she crosses her arms defiantly. “Watch me.”

Before I can protest further, she storms off, and I hear Shane whistle softly, muttering about trouble in paradise. I dash after her. “Liora. I’ll come with you if you don’t stop.”

“If you don’t have anything better to do, fine.”

She quickens her pace, but I manage to grab her just before she reaches the elevator.

If she thinks she can brush me off like that, she’s got another thing coming.

In a flash, I scoop her up and sling her over my shoulder. She huffs and puffs, but I couldn’t care less about her protests or the punches she’s throwing at my back.

To the amusement of the guys—Colton’s scoff included—I carry her into my room.

I set her down and brace myself for the storm that follows.

“Are you insane?”

“Yes. Is that news? What I wanted to say is, you’re practically naked and there’s no way I’m letting you go out alone. It’s getting dark and—”

“You’re worried.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

She laughs, a sharp, sassy sound that makes my skin tingle. “If this is your argument structure, I wonder how your English exams turned out.”

“I was a straight-A student, how about you?”

“Same, but I was homeschooled, so I have no idea how it is in the great wild.”

“Homeschooled?” I ask, feeling a shift in the air between us.

“Yeah, I competed in figure skating since I was eleven. Started in Hungary, then moved to the US with my coach and mom. No time for high school.”

I sigh, unable to stay mad at her cute face. “No prom?”

“No.”

From one second to the next this woman makes me feel boiling angry to worried to sad?

And just like that, there’s a short scene I remember from prom.

All the boys drank their asses off, thanks to the booze we snuck in.

And then the ultimate thrill—my first threesome. Yep. In high school.

As I think about it now, another tinge of sadness creeps in knowing she didn’t get the high school experience like the rest of us. But then again, I’m glad she didn’t have a threesome on prom night. It’s a fucked-up thought, but I don’t want anyone else having their hands on her. Only me.

“Now come on, be a good girl and let my driver take you. He needs the extra cash for his daughter’s birthday this month.”

Her demeanor softens. “How old is she?”

“Five.”

“Oh.” She averts her gaze, and I wonder what’s going through her mind now. Why does she look so sad when I bring up the topic of kids? “Fine. Call him.”

“That’s all it took? A kid’s birthday?”

She swallows. “It’s sweet that he’s saving.”

“Fine. Let’s get you downstairs. He’ll be waiting.”

“I can walk down myse—”

“Liora, please don’t make this harder. Consider yourself lucky I’m not wrapping you in a potato sack right now.”

She steps out, and I grin proudly, earning an amused headshake from Jayce.

The doorbell rings, confirming it’s my driver. I nod toward the door. “He’s here. Good luck tonight. I hope Grace is kind.”

“We all do,” Liora says, moving toward the door.

I clear my throat. “Baby, don’t I get a goodbye kiss?”

She frowns, and I grin. I’m not letting this chance to kiss her slip away—not with an audience here. Even if it’s just Derek and Shane, it’s enough to keep up appearances.

She struts toward me, rising on her toes to press her lips to mine. I might have pulled her up a bit too eagerly, my hands settling on her waist. Her lips are impossibly soft, and there’s a brief hesitation before she leans in further. The kiss is fleeting but charged, a jolt that takes me back to the intensity we shared just days ago. Her breath mingles with mine, a tantalizing blend of defiance and something more that makes my heart flutter. There’s no denying it anymore. I want her. So much it hurts.

Her fingers lightly graze my jaw, and just as I’m about to deepen the kiss, she bites at my lower lip. Um, yes. Wanting her hurts.

“Ouch, shit,” I whisper-shout, hoping no one else noticed.

She grips my jaw firmly, her voice low and fierce. “Stop playing mother hen, okay?”

“Never.”

With a final, fiery kiss that feels more like a punch than a caress, she turns and walks away.

“Maaan, you’re over the moon,” Derek says. “I couldn’t believe the rumors but now that I see it. I wonder where you two got to know each other?”

I shrug, trying to play it cool, but Jayce’s smirk tells me he sees right through it.

It’s not the first time someone has asked how I met her, but thankfully, Liora and I have our story straight. “We met at a sports gala my parents organized back home,” I say smoothly. “I walked up to her, we hit it off, and the rest is history.”

My lips still tingle from the kiss, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s really all just an act anymore. Even though we call each other names and claim we want this to end, there’s this undeniable tension between us. Maybe it’s because we’re both competitive—neither of us wants to lose in this stupid game we’re playing. But I’m not ready to confess anything yet. Maybe I just need to kiss someone else, let that steam off, and get that blonde firecracker out of my system and then I’ll be good.

“Will she come to the party later?”

I feel the eyes of the whole room on me as I answer gruffly, “Well, she lives here, so, yes. But let’s get something straight—she’s off limits, got it? No trying to chat her up or any shit like that. You know what? No talking to her in general.”

Jayce grins knowingly. “Afraid we’ll embarrass you in front of your lady, loverboy?”

“I just don’t need you idiots saying something dumb and pissing her off. It’s better for everyone if you steer clear.” I give them each a hard stare to drive the point home.

The last thing I need is the boys blabbing about locker-room antics to Liora.

Eager to change the subject, Shane pipes up, “So how about them Boston Bears?” The guys immediately jump on the new topic, arguing about play-off predictions.