Page 20 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter
“You are probably familiar with Oliver Ruiz,” Dyl says in my ear. “On his left is Bear.”
Not the one who’s eyeing me. Bear is a big fucker, a few inches taller than Oliver and the third, and packed with muscle. Dark hair, dark scruff on his jaw, a mean scowl in place. His gaze rakes over both of us but doesn’t linger.
“And the third?”
“Penn Walker. Fucking crazy goalie, although he’s actually pretty nice if you catch him in a good mood.”
I scoff. “He doesn’t look too nice right about now.”
“Well, yeah…”
“Maybe we should get out of here.” I tug at her arm.
“Hey, Windsor!”
The three guys are around me in an instant, subtly boxing out Dylan. Oliver Ruiz wedges between us, forcing me to drop her arm.
“Enjoying your stay at FSU so far?” he asks.
I scowl at him.
“Still trying to sabotage us?” Bear questions. He tips his head. “I bet you’re fucking someone on the hockey team within a month.”
“She’ll try to get in my pants,” Oliver says, flashing me a smile. “All the girls do.”
“There’s no way in hell,” I sputter.
He pretends to consider that. “Your friend, Scarlett, did say you were a prude…”
“Scarlett?” The goalie with the black eye pipes up.
“Lettie Blake,” Oliver tells him.
My gaze bounces around them. “What about her?”
Ruiz pulls out his phone and scrolls for a minute, then flashes it at me. It’s a picture of her… naked, on her knees. Mouth open. Her nose is practically touching his pubic bone?—
Things I never wanted to see.
I snatch for his phone, but he’s faster.
“Does she know you took that?” I hiss.
He laughs. “Yeah, she got all indignant about it. Kind of cute, actually. I might go back for seconds, see if I can get a few more shots… It would sell better, don’t you think? A full set as opposed to just one.”
My body goes cold. “You can’t do that.”
“No? I mean, she might’ve driven your getaway car for all I know.” He taps my chin. “Close your mouth. Wouldn’t want you to give me any ideas.”
I scowl. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”
“But we have a bet,” the goalie calls. “You may as well settle it for us, snitch. A month. Over or under?”
“Over,” I say through my teeth. “Way, way fucking over.”
I shove past Oliver, ignoring his laugh. Dylan grabs my arm and urges me along faster, although my stomach is twisting. I need to tell Lettie that he has a photo of her. I need to warn her that he might share it, or?—
“Breathe,” Dylan says. “They’re still watching.”