Puck Block : A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Bexley U)
Puck Block : Chapter 7

The party is full of hot potential, but as usual, I’ve run off to be alone. Most of the time, I think everyone assumes I’ve disappeared into one of the bedrooms with some guy, but nine times out of ten, I’m alone.

There’s a knock on the door, and I sigh.

I wonder who that could be. 

I turn toward the noise. “Go away, Ford.”

There’s a raspy chuckle that follows my demand, and I immediately know it’s not Ford. “It isn’t Ford.”

I slip in between the mismatched couches in the room and head toward the voice. The media room is usually off-limits but Rush, who’s the captain of the football team and doubles as the rule-maker for these parties, has a soft spot for me and allows me to come in here. But only because his younger sister is in my sorority, and he knows I watch out for her.

I watch out for all the girls, though. We have no room for mean girls in our sorority–only built-in besties and mentors.

“Rush?” I ask.

I reach for the doorknob but refuse to open it until I know who’s on the other side.

“No. Cruz.” He says his name like I should know him. After my silence, he adds, “If you open the door, I think you’ll recognize me.”

Taking the bait, I turn the doorknob, half expecting to see Ford holding someone hostage there to get me to open the door, but I’m wrong, and Cruz is right. I do recognize him. But I pretend like I don’t because he obviously has a chip on his shoulder.

“Sorry, I don’t know who you are.” I move to slam the door, but he stops it with his hand and gives me a look. His lip hitches, and it’s the same hot grin he gave me in the hospital days ago.

“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met,” he says.

A quick laugh escapes me and causes me to drop my hand. I let him in the room and notice right away that he leaves the door cracked.

“What are you doing at some college party?” I ask.

My arms cross against my chest, but I drop them abruptly when it hits me.

“Oh my god. Did my brother ask you to follow me around?” I throw my hands up in frustration and start to pace the media room. “He did, didn’t he? Just in case I faint or my blood sugar gets out of sync, right?” I kick a pillow out of my way and mumble under my breath. “This is getting out of hand. Having some EMT follow me around.” I turn. “Was this Dr. McCarthy’s idea?”

Cruz grips me by the waist, his fingers pressing into my bare skin right below my shirt. It’s very clear to me that he isn’t wearing medical gloves like in the hospital, because my flesh burns beneath his touch. “Calm down. No one asked me to follow you.” He chuckles under his breath, and I drop my gaze to his mouth.

“Then what are you doing here?”

He moves his hands after a few long breaths and puts some space between us. “What? An EMT can’t just come hang out at a college party?”

I raise an eyebrow because…no.

He laughs quietly, and I’m not going to deny it–Cruz has a very attractive charisma about him. “I’m Rush’s brother. I told him I’d stop by for a few and wish him luck for the game this weekend.”

“You’re Rush’s brother?” I ask, watching him take a seat on the leather couch. He looks so different from the other day when he was wheeling me through the hospital. Don’t get me wrong, I noticed that he was attractive right away, but there’s something thrilling about seeing him in dark jeans, a black hoodie, and messy hair.

He cracks his fingers and eyes me from across the room. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I blink past my embarrassment. “Well, before now, I thought you were just some rando that showed up at a college party.”

He laughs again. “I go to Bexley U.”

“You’re a student here?”

Cruz nods. “Yeah. I’m finishing my BA in science and then applying for med school.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. That’s…impressive? I walk over and sit on the other side of the couch with just enough space between us for it to be noticeable. “So, you go to Bexley U, and you are an EMT on the side? Plus you’re applying for med school?”

He has a cocky smile. “Impressed?”

I snort. Yes. “Not even a little bit.”

Cruz throws his head back and laughs loudly. “You’d fit right in with my family.”

“What does that mean?” I pull my hair off to the side, and Cruz glances at the side of my neck for a second too long. He shifts his eyes away, and a rush of heat kisses my cheeks.

“I don’t play football, so naturally, my parents aren’t impressed.”

I turn toward him. “Wait, what? Are you kidding?”

He looks away. “Change of subject, Stubborn One. What are you doing up here all alone?”

“What are you doing following me?” I counter.

I watch him smile from the side. He leans back and puts his arm on top of the couch. It looks like an invitation, but I’m pretty sure I’m just making things up in my head because I’m so desperate for this to turn into something that it’s not.

“Do you want my honest answer?” he asks.

My pulse jumps. “If you say you’re here to make sure my glucose is okay, I swear to God…”

He furrows his brow. “I’m off duty. That’s not why I followed you.”

I eye him carefully. The room grows quiet, and the only thing I can hear is the pounding music below the floor.

“To be honest, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

My stomach nosedives.

“And then I show up at my brother’s house, and there you are. You walked right past me, and I couldn’t help it. I had to come talk to you.”

What?

I’m tingly, and if I wasn’t wearing my glucose monitor, I’d think my sugar was spiking.

“You can’t stop thinking about me?” I whisper in disbelief. But then I mentally scold myself. Of course he can’t, you confident, pink-lipstick-wearing baddie.

A sarcastic puff of breath falls from his mouth, and it almost touches my lips. “No. I can’t. The second you sassed me in the ambulance, I was hooked.”

“I don’t believe you,” I admit. “I think you saw me walking through the party and recognized me.”

Cruz leans forward and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. He throws it at me, and I catch it with a cat-like reflex.

“Read them.”

On the screen is a text conversation with someone named Linc.

Linc: Go find her. What was her name? Ask Rush if he knows of her. He knows everyone.

Cruz: Her name is Taytum, but you know I don’t have time for a girlfriend. Med school is on the horizon.

Linc: Who said you have to date her? Bang her and get her out of your system.

Cruz: I’m not a dick who uses females like you.

Linc: I don’t use them. I’m up front and tell them that I’m not looking for a girlfriend. Nine times out of ten, they’re down. College girls wanna have fun. They aren’t looking for anything serious either.

Cruz: So you mean they’re dick hungry?

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Linc: Fuck off. We’re all just out here having fun. Maybe you should try it.

Cruz: She doesn’t seem like a girl who’d be down for that.

Linc: Well then, have fun with your hand.

I click the phone off and hope I’m not wearing my emotions on my sleeve.

“See? Can’t stop thinking about you.”

Our eyes catch, and I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, trapping it beneath my teeth. It’s now or never. If I allow myself to think about the risk of Ford or Emory charging in to ruin my night, like always, I’ll never get laid again.

Ford is nowhere to be found.

Emory is off doing God knows what.

And this was my plan, right? To take back my confidence and make my own decisions?

“What if I am one of those girls?” My question is hardly above a whisper. The room crackles with the tensing of Cruz’s jaw, and my stomach fills with courage.

“You’re not,” his voice is low.

“How do you know?”

Cruz leans forward and rests his elbows on top of his knees. I swear, the more time that passes, the hotter he gets. It’s his voice. It’s right in the middle of poised and out of control. There’s a slight rasp to it that I’m clinging to for dear life, and the prize is so close I can almost taste it. “‘Cause I’ve asked around.”

I decide to pull the trigger. “What would you say if I asked for one night and that was it?”

Cruz slowly sits up right and pushes his legs out in front of him. He pulls the denim on his thighs down a little, and if I didn’t know any better, he’s feeling just as antsy as I am. My pulse thrums, and it sends a little bit of life through my veins. This is exciting. There’s something so enticing about doing something with a random guy without being pushed into doing it just to irritate my brother and Ford. This moment means more because for once, it’s for me.

“Then I’d say okay, but–”

“No buts.” I quickly stand up on two feet and make my way over to him.

Cruz’s eyes burn with rebellion, and I’m more alive than I’ve ever felt. He raises an eyebrow, as if he’s asking me what I’m waiting for, so I move in between his legs and straddle him on the leather couch.

The room spins when he grabs my waist, and then everything goes dark the second our mouths touch.

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