Page 40 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter
“Carter.”
He falls forward, wrapping his arms around me. He continues jacking his hips slowly, even after finishing. I hook my legs around his hips, but my muscles are trembling.
“I’m not on birth control,” I whisper.
He kisses my throat. “Okay.”
“Okay? Not okay.”
“We’ll take care of it.”
I push his face away. “You better not be referring to a baby.”
His nose wrinkles. “I meant the morning after pill or whatever. I’ll get you some.”
As in, one of the more expensive birth control options. I can’t afford that, and I’m sure as hell not asking my father for money to get it.
So either he’s telling the truth, or I’m fucked.
twelve
carter
Sydney Windsor is an elixir I didn’t know I needed.
Okay, that’s a lie. Scarlett Blake shoved her into my path, and I never wanted to let her go. But that intensity, that soon… it scared her. And me, a bit. We were freshmen in college, and I was just figuring out the hockey thing.
Hockey is and always has been my life. Turning my back on it, or at least letting her distract me, seemed… detrimental to my future. Unlike Oliver, who will be playing for the Colorado Titans when he stops fucking around and deferring, I’ll face the NHL draft next year. My agent is working behind the scenes, but he knows I’m committed to finishing out my last year at school. All that is to say—we’ll see. I just need to be enough.
I leave Sydney’s apartment and head to FSU. It’s an off-limits place, but I tug my ball cap lower and keep my head down. I take a seat on a bench in the quad and watch the students pass by. A lot don’t look at me twice, which is nice. Some do, but I ignore them.
I ignore a lot of the attention foisted on me nowadays, because it’s the only way I can keep calm.
Someone catches my eye. A collection of girls, one of which is sporting two black eyes. Sydney’s soft admission before I left was that it wasn’t any of the hockey guys. Which is good, because I would go straight to her fucking father and get them all expelled.
Which leaves girls. And these girls…
Well, it would make sense that Sydney would fight back, right?
They leave the student center and part ways. I stick with the girl with the black eyes, more curious than anything. She peels off and heads for the parking garage. She doesn’t notice me tagging along, sticking to the shadows. I keep my head down, peeking under the brim of my hat. The last thing I need is for her to report what I’m about to do…
And for cameras to confirm her story.
A few cars ahead of her, an SUV’s lights flash. I pick up my pace and catch up just as she steps between her vehicle and the one beside it. She’s tall and muscular, almost my height, but I take her by surprise.
I shove her against her car, my hand on the back of her head keeping her cheek to the glass.
“Don’t look at me,” I hiss. “I’ll cut your fucking eyes out.”
Her eyes squeeze shut.
“Tell me what happened with Sydney.”
“Nothing,” she cries. “Sydney? I’ve never?—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” My knife is in my hand in an instant, the blade sliding free from the handle with a soft scrape. I press it to her throat. “Try again. Sydney Windsor.”
“I don’t?—”