Pucking Around: Chapter 12

I’ve had the best morning ever. No early morning workout, no coaches’ meeting, no warmups or practice. Instead, I slept in and made myself breakfast. Sure, I had to wait for over an hour at the DMV, but it gave me time to just relax.

The last few months have been crazy. Between Vicki and Poppy, we’re having our balls busted every day. If we’re not at practice or working out, we’re in endless HR meetings, travel meetings, or dealing with press bullshit. I don’t even know how many times I’ve had my picture taken for different promotional stuff.

So yeah, taking a morning off to drink my coffee and go to the DMV has felt pretty damn great.

Luck shines down as I stroll through the parking garage. Vicki is right there, intern in tow. She’s always got someone new shadowing her. My phone pings and I glance down.

CALEB (11:45AM): Novy is lookin great. You’ll skate well together against Carolina

I sigh with relief. Our starting line is feeling more solid each day. Maybe we actually have a chance at a win this season.

CALEB (11:45AM): Kelso is a mess. Looks like Davidson is in…which means I win *stacked money emoji**sushi emoji*

I huff, typing back a quick response. We had a bet on which goalie would come out on top and he won, meaning I’m buying his dinner tonight.

I pull my eyes from my phone, flashing Vicki a winning smile. “Vicki, my goddess, my queen!”

She purses her lips, rolling her eyes at me. I’m always teasing her, but she gives it right back. I knew she was serious about the ID when the teasing stopped. “Mmhmm. You get it done finally?”

“Would I dare defy your direct order?” I say, pulling my ID from my pocket. “All fixed. We’re good to go.”

“Bring it to my office before close of day so I can make a copy.” She turns to her intern. “Rachel, this is Jake Compton, and he’s trouble with a capital T.”

I let myself look at her intern. Fuck, she’s pretty. How the hell did I miss that? The guys have been going on about some hot new doctor roaming the halls today, but I honestly couldn’t care less. There’s only one doctor I want.

Wow, this girl looks a lot like my Mystery Girl—

“Jake, this is our new Barkley Fellow, Doctor Rachel Price,” Vicki goes on.

Wait—she’s a doctor? The pretty girl I dismissed with a glance isn’t an intern, she’s a doctor. The doctor who looks like my doctor is a doctor…

And then my brain explodes. I can’t think, can’t breathe. Somehow, my hand is sticking out and I’m pretty sure I’ve said something. Did my mouth just make words? I have no idea. I’m just standing here, waiting for my body to catch up with my brain. And I have no heart to beat because it just went splat on the floor.

She’s looking at me like I’ve got two heads. Doctor Rachel Price. The new team doctor. My doctor. Doctor Mystery Girl. It all clicks into place, and I blurt out, “Oh my god!”

“Oh my god,” she cries, tears in her eyes.

Holy fuck. Oh god, it’s happening. She’s here. She’s standing right in front of me. My Mystery Girl. Only she’s not a mystery anymore. She has a name.

Rachel.

Fuck, just saying it in my head is gonna give me a heart attack…or a hard on. Both. I’ve thought of this moment so many times. I’ve given her so many names in my mind. Maybe she was a Rachel once. Now no other name exists.

Rachel Price.

I smile. Mystery solved. But wait—shit—why is she looking at me like that? Why is Vicki still fucking here? Why aren’t we kissing? Why are our clothes on?

“Am I missing something?” says Vicki, glancing between us. “Do you two already know each other?”

I look to Rachel, ready to take her lead. She’s so fucking smart. She’ll know what to do, what to say.

“We met a couple months ago,” she murmurs. “We umm…sat together on the plane.”

I glance at Vicki. Shit, is she buying it?

Vicki lets out a little laugh. “Huh, small world, isn’t it? You know, I once sat in first class with Denzel Washington?”

Neither of us make any reply. I still can’t breathe, and it looks like Rachel is trying very hard to perfect the power of teleportation. My girl would clearly rather be anywhere else but here.

Fuck, I’m messing this all up. I don’t know how, but I am. I need to talk to her. I need Vicki to be the one to teleport somewhere else.

“Well, hon, let’s give your key fob a try,” says Vicki. “Yours should be one of those,” she adds, pointing to a row of white trucks parked near the back of the garage.

Rachel fumbles with the key in her hand, her gaze glued to it as she gives the fob a squeeze. The truck at the end flashes its lights as the doors unlock.

“And there you go,” says Vicki. “You let me know if you need anything else, okay? And you,” she says, glaring at me. “Bring me that ID or you’ll be flying to all the away games this season tied to the wing of the jet!”

With that she gives Rachel’s shoulder a squeeze and walks off, back through the doors into the building.

Rachel and I stand there, looking at each other, not speaking. Both our brains are broken.

I move first, reaching for her. “I—”

“I can’t do this,” she whispers, darting away from my outstretched hand.

“What? Wait—whoa—hold on!” I spin around, chasing after her. “Rachel!”

She stills, her whole body stiff as I catch up, standing close behind her.

I can’t help it; I’m smiling like a lovestruck idiot. “Rachel,” I say again, just because I can. I put everything I’m feeling into the word. Fuck, it’s a pretty name.

“Don’t,” she murmurs, her voice catching.

“Hey,” I say gently, my hand reaching out and stroking her arm. It’s the barest of touches. “Baby, turn around. Look at me.”

She sucks in a breath, turning around. “Baby?”

Oooh, shit. She looks mad.

“I’m not your baby,” she snaps. “You didn’t even recognize me!” She spins away, stomping off towards her truck.

Her words punch all the air out of my chest. “What—Yes, I did! Get back here!” I shout, chasing her down. “Rachel, stop—”

She makes it to her truck and tugs on the driver’s side door. I shove my weight against it, shutting it. She gasps, spinning around, her back pressed against the door. I’ve effectively boxed her in, my hands on either side of her head.

Fuck, my body is on fire. What she does to me—I can’t explain it. I’ve never had anyone else make me feel this way. I’m trembling like a fifteen-year-old kid about to get his first kiss.

“Stop running,” I beg. “Rachel, talk to me. What the hell is going on in your head right now? You’re freakin’ out. I know you are ‘cause I am too, and that’s okay. Let’s just…let’s freak out together, okay? And let’s use words—”

“Oh, you want words? I was standing right in front of you for five freaking minutes, and you didn’t even see me!” she snaps. “Am I that forgettable to you? God—”

She drags her fingers through her hair, pushing the loose strands back from her face. I wanna slap her hand away for doing my job. I’m the one who brushes her hair back. I’m the one who takes care of her. That’s my fucking job, and I swear to god, no one is gonna do it better than me. Not even her. She’s mine.

“I was distracted,” I say. “It’s been a crazy day, and I wasn’t expecting to see you here and—and you look…different,” I admit, scrunching up my nose.

She scowls at me, those perfect lips pursed in annoyance. “Different?”

I shrug. “Yeah, you know like…your makeup is all different, and you’re not wearing the nose ring, and you’ve got glasses on—”

“Ohmygod,” she cries, trying to shove her way out from under me. “You’re worse than a Disney prince! What, the girl puts on glasses, and suddenly she’s unrecognizable to you?”

“Hey, it was for like five seconds,” I counter. “And you know I get hit in the head for a living! I was minding my own damn business, walking into work. I never in my wildest dreams expected to see you in my parking garage, so I didn’t. I didn’t see you, Rachel…until I did.”

She shakes her head, her bottom lip quivering like she’s about to cry.

“What is this really about?” I murmur, inching closer. I reach out a hand and gently tip her face up to look at me. “This isn’t about me not recognizing you because you know I did. I do. You think I forgot about you…you think I left that hotel room and moved on?”

She closes her eyes. “Please…”

I brush my fingers featherlight down the line of her jaw. “You really think I could forget my Seattle Girl? Baby, you’re all I think about.”

“Don’t,” she begs.

I frown, frustrated. “You left me in that bed, remember? I’m the one who should be stomping around. I wanted your name. Hell, we could have been two months deeper into something by now instead of starting fresh—”

“No,” she gasps, pulling away. Her arms are wrapped around her middle so tight, a pathetic excuse for armor. “Jake, we can’t do this.”

Oh, fuck me. My name on her lips is stronger than a shot from cupid’s bow straight to my dick. “Say it again.”

She looks up at me. “We can’t do this.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Say my name.”

“Don’t,” she murmurs. “Please, don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I reply, inching closer, my hand cupping her cheek. She smells so fucking good. She left me her perfume in Seattle, but it’s nothing like smelling the combination of that scent on her skin mixed with her hair products and her detergent and just…her.

I want to wrap her in my arms and never let go. I want to wear her t-shirts to bed like a lovesick fool. Okay, so there’s no way they’ll fit me, but I could take two and cut them up and sew them back together. Or Caleb can do it for me. He’s good with sewing machines and—

Oh shit, Caleb. Rachel and Caleb. Rachel is the hot doctor Caleb picked up from the airport yesterday. The doctor with the kinky dildo who now shares a wall with him. The hot doctor he drove in to work this morning.

I was about to find him and grill him for more details because I know something else happened last night. He was being too cagey about it. Now my pulse is racing, and my tongue feels too big for my mouth. Do I want to know what happened? I don’t know if I can take it. We’ve shared the occasional bunny in college, but this is totally different. Rachel is—she’s everything.

“Please look at me,” I murmur.

She glances up, her hand wrapping around my wrist as I cup her face. “We can’t do this,” she whispers. “I work for the team now. I just signed a hundred pages worth of contracts. I’m your doctor.”

“No.”

“You’re my patient. I can’t cross that line—we can’t—”

“No,” I growl again, pressing in with my hips.

She gasps. Yeah, my girl is mad for me. I can feel it. I lower my hand from her jaw, wrapping my fingers gently around her throat, my fingertips brushing against her racing pulse. She whimpers, her neck arching. She can’t help it. She loves my hands on her.

We’re both on fire, trembling with need. I have never been so turned on by another person in my life. She breathes near me, and I’m ready to fucking go. I have her in my hands again, and I can’t wait a moment longer to taste her. Lowering my face, I press my lips to hers.

Boom.

Like kerosine tossed on a bonfire, we ignite. We’re pressed so tight, my hands racing down her sides to grab her ass and lift her, wrapping her legs around my hips so our heights match. I slam her up against the side of her truck. She hisses in my mouth, our tongues chasing, hands desperate.

Fuck, she’s the girl I want to kiss for the rest of my life. I don’t care how crazy that sounds. She’s ravenous, whimpering as I pin her with my hips, my hardness right there. If we were naked, I’d be inside her. Fuck, I’d be pounding her into the side of this truck.

Her groping hands knock my hat off and her fingernails drag over my scalp. It makes my whole body shudder as my dick twitches. I need to be inside her. Need to bury myself in her and never resurface.

But then she’s gasping, her body squirming in my hold. “Jake,” she whines. “Please—”

And I know what she’s saying without saying it because that’s just the way we are together. Please, put me down. Please, stop. And then my heart is breaking into pieces.

I loosen my hold on her and she slides down my body back to the floor of the parking garage. We’re both shaking, need hammering through us. What we have is volcanic. She knows it too. I can’t do this. I can’t not be with her. She’s in my city, on my team, in my fucking arms…and she’s saying no.

“Don’t push me away again,” I plead, my heart shredding. “I can’t do this twice, Rachel. Don’t ask me to pretend that we’re nothing. I don’t care about the damn contract.”

Her chin lifts in defiance, lips glistening with my kisses, teary eyes dark and dangerous. “Well, I care. This is my life, Jake. This is my chance,” she says with such determination. “This fellowship, this team. It’s my whole career on the line. You don’t have to care about breaking the rules, but I do.”

She’s closing off, shutting me out. Goddamn it, she did the same thing in Seattle. “No,” I growl. “Rachel, please—” Am I begging? Fuck, I have no pride when it comes to this girl. No chill. No game. I’m lost to her. I was from the moment she turned around on that barstool. “Don’t do this. Don’t push me away.”

But I see the resolve shining in her eyes. “My contract lasts the whole season,” she says, voice tight. “We can be friends. We can be colleagues…but nothing more.”

I drop my hands away from her, our connection broken, and we both take a gasping breath.

My Mystery Girl is putting me on ice. She wants to focus on her career, and I can respect that. I’m a career addict too. You don’t get to my level of sport and not be obsessive over your job.

I swallow, heart racing out of control. “Ten months,” I say, my gaze locked on her. “Ride out your contract. I’ll play nice.” I lean in. “But the second it’s over, you’re mine, Seattle. You’re not leaving me again.”