Puck off a hockey romanc.., p.1
Puck Off: (A Hockey Romance) Puck Me Series, page 1
Puck Off
Copyright © 2024 by M.A. Lee
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Contents
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
Afterword
Also by
About the author
Chapter 1
Ashlynn
Maybe I could be a porn star?
As I stand outside the airport, I contemplate my career choice options as I wait for my ride, which is now twenty minutes late.
No, STD’s scare me.
Maybe I could be a model? But I like to eat, and my ass is way too big.
At this point, I would do just about anything to get me out of this hellish situation I am in. Standing outside an airport, alone after a long flight, and waiting on a ride that seems to have gotten lost.
Huffing, I check my phone again, but just as it was moments ago, I still have no messages or missed calls.
When I was forced to move to Sunnyvale and start my sophomore year of college at Sunnyvale University, I was less than excited.
To be honest, I was pissed.
Floored.
And I may or may not have had a few tantrums while packing up my life in Miami to be moved to a small university town where my dad works.
Well, he is the coach of the Sunnyvale Hawks hockey team.
Me: Dad, you did tell me you were sending a car to pick me up, right?
I sent a quick text to my dad, whom I hadn’t seen in over a year. When my mom and stepdad told me that I had to leave Miami, my dad agreed to help me in Sunnyvale, but on his terms.
Apparently, that’s how my life always played it. Always on everyone else’s terms.
When my parents divorced, I had to leave my home in Seattle and move to Miami. At first, it sucked because I didn’t know anyone, but the nightlife and parties quickly pulled me in. I found myself falling in love with traveling around the world, hanging out with celebrities, and not having a care in the world.
My dad finally texted me back, and I let out a heavy breath and stomped my foot.
Dad: Yes, of course. I apologize. I forgot to tell the driver the time. They are on their way now.
Rolling my eyes, I pull my hair up into a high ponytail. Of course, he forgot. My dad only had one thing on his mind: hockey.
Sitting on my large suitcase, I settled in for at least another thirty-minute wait.
Me: Fine. Maybe this was a bad idea.
Dad: Don’t be dramatic. We will talk when you get to my office.
Dramatic?
He hasn’t seen me be dramatic yet.
I was an adult who was being dragged across the country to leave my school, friends, and home all because of…
My stomach drops as I think about the why. Sure, I had let my partying get out of hand, but no one seemed to care until I showed up in the tabloids. Drunken photos of me with a few celebrities and social media influencers emerged, and suddenly, my mom cared about what I did.
Everything was fine until one drunken night turned into a night in jail and a large retribution that I had to pay back to a fashion designer whose diamond-covered dress I destroyed one night after a fashion show. I hadn’t meant to let my life get out of control, but I just couldn’t resist myself. A few drinks turned into a dozen, and before I knew it, I was in the pool at a Miami mansion. The designer was suing my parents for damages to the dress, and my wild night was displayed all over social media.
Apparently, my antics could destroy my family's careers. My mother, who was a large event planner for celebrities in Miami, had given me an ultimatum. Either clean up my act or she would kick me out, stop paying my rent and tuition, and cut off my credit cards. My stepdad, who was a high-powered attorney to a large Miami basketball team, was sick of my ‘childish’ ways as he had put it. They paid my fees and then decided to ship me off.
Maybe if either of them had cared to pay any attention to me, I wouldn’t have found my happiness in nightclubs…
Shaking my head, I refused to think about that.
I was in the South of France when I got the call from my mom that all my belongings were being shipped to Sunnyvale and that I wouldn’t be able to come back to my home in Miami. I didn’t bother to argue or beg. That just wasn’t in my nature. Instead, I called my dad and found out that he had booked me a flight to Sunnydale. That was two days ago, and I still hadn’t talked to my mom.
Cars honked in the pick-up lane as a plane taking off overhead rumbled the ground. The air here in California was hot but not humid like Miami. I guess that was one plus to this shitty situation.
Finally, a black sedan pulled over with a sign in the window that read: Ashlynn Towers.
I jumped off my luggage and scrambled over to the car. The driver, an older man with graying hair, moved around the car and reached for my luggage. I offered him a smile as I took my purse and settled into the back of the car.
When I heard the trunk close, the driver returned to the driver’s seat. “Miss, your father instructed me to take you to his office. We should arrive there in about fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you,” I offered, as I placed my Air Pods in my ears and got ready for the ride.
The drive from the LAX airport to the small coastal town of Sunnyvale was scenic and almost serene. As angry as I was about this move, I did have to admit that the place was beautiful. Not that I would ever admit that to my parents.
When I saw the Hawks arena come into view, I took out my Air Pods and sat up straighter in my seat. My stomach sank as we drove closer. I despised the sport of hockey, and whenever I saw an arena or hockey stick, I would cringe.
“You a hockey fan?” the driver asks, his dark eyes meeting mine in the rear-view mirror.
“Not really,” I sigh.
The driver seems to sense my unease because he doesn’t push the topic. He stops and helps me out of the vehicle in front of the arena. Taking a deep breath, I make my way inside, suitcase in tow. I followed the hallway toward the offices and found the texts my dad had sent with directions on how to find the wing and office.
It doesn’t take me too long to find the offices. As I approach the office, I see a large window overlooking the rink. I can see the team practicing below and my dad yelling drills. Stepping closer to the glass, I watch his eyes light up each time the players do something he instructs. My stomach drops at the sight of his happiness. I can’t ever remember a time when my dad ever looked that happy with me. He’s yelling out drills, and I can hear his voice echoing throughout the arena. He glances up, and his smile fades. We lock eyes, and I offer a slight wave before I keep walking. I move toward his office and sit in one of the worn leather chairs facing his unruly desk. While I wait, I glance around the space. Trophies, plaques, and framed newspaper articles line every surface of this place. All his pride, joy, and accomplishments stared back at me. There isn’t a trace of me anywhere here, and as much as I hate to admit it, it stings. I’m lost in my own world when he finally enters the office.
“Ashlynn,” his gruff voice knocks me out of my thoughts.
“Hey, Dad,” I say, as I watch him move over to his desk.
Neither one of us attempts a hug. We never really had a great relationship, so it’s only fitting that he’s sitting in his chair, staring back at me like I’m a stranger.
“Your hair is darker,” he notes.
“I added highlights, and the sun helped,” I say, tugging on my own mahogany red hair.
We sit in an awkward silence for what feels like forever before he finally speaks again.
“So, I talked to your mom,” he begins. I scoff, and he narrows his eyes at me but ignores my interruption. My parents hadn’t talked in years, well, not until they had to figure out what to do with me. “I managed to get you signed up for classes next semester and your own dorm room on campus. I pulled a lot of string, so please –”
“I haven’t been here ten minutes, and already you are asking me not to screw up,” I cut him off.
He sighs and rubs his temple, a move he always does when I am about to frustrate him. “Ashlynn, can you just appreciate the gesture? Your mother and stepfather allowed you to roam all over the world and have too much freedom. If you could have controlled yourself, you wouldn’t be here now. I’ve got you into a great school and a nice place to live. It is up to you to figure out what you want to be in life,” he finishes with a huff.
My plan was to become a socialite and marry a billionaire with a killer yacht. However, now that I’m thrown into some small college town, I doubt that is going to happen anytime soon. My anger builds as I realize all of the fun I was
“Got it,” I snapped.
Reaching across the desk, Dad hands me a key. “This is the key to your dorm. The directions to campus and your new dorm have been sent to your email. You will also find an email from your new academic advisor and a course schedule. You have two weeks before the new semester begins. I need to get back to my players. I’ve got some things to handle before our game tonight,” he states flatly.
I know that tone. He’s got a player to yell at, and he’s done with me. I accept the key and stand to leave.
“One last thing, Ashlynn.” He stops me in my place. I turn to face my father. “This is your last chance before you are on your own,” he warns.
“I get it,” I grumble.
I don’t bother responding as I turn and head right out of his office.
Chapter 2
Logan (Two nights ago)
The night air was electric, charged with adrenaline and jubilation as I walked into the hotel lobby, my teammates trailing behind me. We had just won the biggest game of our careers, and the excitement was palpable among us.
“Dude, there were NHL scouts at the game tonight!” Tripp yelled as he pumped his fist in the air.
“Hell yeah, you know everyone saw the game,” I replied, slapping him on the back.
As we made our way to the elevators, we were met with cheering and applause from the hotel staff, who had been watching the game in their break room. Fans pounced on us in their teal and black Sunnyvale University gear, and I swear I felt like I was walking on air. We couldn't resist pumping our fists in the air and basking in the glory of our victory.
Hockey wasn’t just a passion. It was a drug that I couldn’t get enough of.
“Tonight, we party boys,” Luke, one of the rookies, shouted.
The younger guys were riding on our high, too, and we all knew that tonight was about celebrating. Tomorrow, we would pack onto the bus and head back to Sunnyvale where Coach Carl would remind us that this was just one win. He would push us even harder at practice like he always did. Still, nothing could take away our excitement.
“I’m going to call Skye,” Jace announced, cutting into my buzz.
“Yeah, I’m going to get a drink in the hotel bar and then find Sadie. She always likes to get kinky on nights we win,” Tripp adds in, winking.
Topher shakes his head but smiles through his sigh. “Remember, boys, go party and celebrate your win, but don’t get crazy.”
As always, Topher is the voice of reason. Too bad we don’t always listen to him.
“Let’s head to my room. I’m on the first floor, and my patio is right near the pool,” I announce, letting everyone know I’m ready to party.
Tripp leans over to me. “Hey, go have fun, but don’t get too crazy,” he reminds me.
Tripp has grown a lot, and I know he’s trying to look out for me, but I don’t want to chill tonight. I want to let loose and have fun.
Everyone around us started yelling and cheering as they followed me down the hallway to my room. Tripp just shook his head as he walked toward the elevator. As soon as I slipped my key into the door, the celebratory atmosphere turned into a wild, chaotic energy. Bottles were uncorked, music was blasting, and furniture was being rearranged for impromptu dance parties.
It was like I blinked, and a raging party had taken over my hotel room.
“Logan, you were incredible tonight,” a redhead with huge tits whispers in my ear.
I smile as she hands me a beer. Yep, tonight is going to be a great night.
I drank as I walked around, dancing with guys from the team and people I hardly recognized from campus. Girls grinded against me every chance they got, and I was never without a cold drink in my hand.
It wasn't long before things got out of hand. Someone started throwing pillows, and before I knew it, we were tossing chairs and lamps across the room.
“Fuck, this party is wild,” Jace yelled as I saw him walk out of his sliding glass door. I had forgotten his room was just a few down from mine.
“Come join the fun,” I yelled back, watching a guy throw a lounge chair into the pool.
Shaking his head, Jace looked upset. “Logan, maybe it’s time to call it a night. Turn the music down and go to bed,” he sneered.
“You sound like Topher right now,” I threw back.
My body swayed as I talked, and I knew I was beyond sloppy drunk. Still, I just wanted to let loose and have some fun. It was my first win as the new goalie, and I deserved to celebrate.
“You are going to regret this in the morning,” Jace said one last time before slamming his door.
The adrenaline and alcohol fueled our frenzy as we yelled and screamed, feeling invincible in our moment of triumph. I knew Jace had a point, but nothing could stop me now.
Someone suggested throwing the furniture in the pool, and before I could protest, we were hauling couches and tables out onto the balcony and heaving them into the crystal blue water below.
As the night progressed, all rational thoughts went away. Drinks, music, and girls all danced in front of me.
It wasn't until the sun began to rise and the party died down that I realized the gravity of what we had done. Our wild behavior had been captured on video by bystanders and was now being shared all over social media.
My stomach dropped as I thought about the repercussions. Our coach, team, and reputation tarnished by our moment of reckless abandon. I sat on the edge of the pool, watching the pieces of furniture floating aimlessly, feeling the weight of our mistakes.
“Logan, the hotel called the police, and they want to talk to you,” I heard Jace say from behind me.
Closing my eyes, I felt like I was going to vomit. Fuck, I had royally screwed up, and now, I was going to have to face the consequences.
Chapter 3
Logan
The arena has always been my canvas, the ice a slipstream of possibility under the keen blade of my skates. I surged forward, weaving through defenders with the grace of a seasoned ballet dancer and the precision of a master chess player. The crowd's roartry to echoed, mirroring the thundering of my own heart – this was where I belonged.
"Look at that move!" someone shouted from the stands, their voice almost lost in a sea of screaming and cheering.
I waved at my fans, watching as the student section of the stands smiled and waved back. I loved the feeling of hearing my name chanted on their lips. It was electric and put me on a high that no drug could ever match. A few people booed from the opponent's side, but I did my best to ignore them.
I’ve been on fire lately on the ice. I’m working hard to fulfill my new position and keeping my temper in check. One thing about me: I have a temper that I do my best to control when I’m with my team. In high school, I almost lost my place on my hockey team for getting into fights with unruly fans or guys on opposite teams. Topher, Tripp, and Jace would always have my back, but as we began getting scouted, it was clear that I had to stop acting out.
I saw the way guys would try and tempt me to fight, but I would always skate away. Don’t get me wrong; I loved a good on-ice fair fight. That’s just part of hockey. But it’s the after-game or bar fight that tends to get me into trouble.
Still, I managed to stay out of trouble all season and I did my best to keep that record going.
“We’ve still got sixty seconds left,” Tripp yelled at me as he skated past.
I watched as the defender on the other team skated toward me, and I moved into position. He had the puck, and I was ready to stop him from scoring. I was working through my first game as a goalie. When our regular goalie got injured, I was the only one on the team with experience. Topher, my coach, mentor, and life-long best friend, had taught me every position on the ice. I was ready for this. Tonight’s game would truly show Coach and my team that I could play any position they handed me. I had to just keep my eyes on the puck.
“Logan, get ready,” Jace yelled, as he knocked another opponent away.
The guy skating toward me smiled as he pulled his stick back and struck the puck. He was good, but I was better. “Hey, fuck you, Logan,” he jested, trying to rile me up.
