Luca (Chicago Blaze 2)

I don’t know why, but I get the feeling that she needs me somehow. When we’re together, all of her attention, all of her desires are focused on me, and I can’t fucking get enough of it.

When I get to the arena, I find it’s buzzing with people and activity already. There are lots of pregame interviews and photos going on. I’ve got some of that stuff to do myself, once I’m in my uniform. Even though the game doesn’t start for several hours, we’ll all be busy until then.

As I walk into the locker room, one of our defensemen, Knox, calls out to me.

“Did you touch my stick, Campbell?”

“You wish.”

“I’m serious. I can’t find my stick.”

I shake my head. “I just walked in the door? How the fuck do you think I could’ve touched your stick?”

“Well someone did, and I’m gonna crush their nuts when I find out who it was.”

“No one took your stick, asshole,” our goalie Jonah says. “You probably lost it.”

“That’s fucking impossible!” Knox growls. “How would anyone lose their fucking stick?”

Knox is a tall, dark, and burly enforcer who thinks he’s too scary for anyone to fuck with. When anyone does, he rages, getting so pissed off he sometimes breaks things. He’s an easy mark.

Victor walks into the locker room, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Did you touch my stick?” Knox demands.

Vic gives him a confused look. “What the hell are you talking about? I just got here.”

Knox points a finger at him. “I love that fucking stick. If anything happens to it, you assholes will pay.”

“Go take a Midol, you cranky bastard.” Vic sets his bag down on the bench next to me.

“What’s got you so happy?” I ask him.

“I just have a zest for life, Luca.”

“Yeah, right. It’s that actress, isn’t it?”

He grins at me. “Kristen. She’s fucking amazing, man. I never expected to fall for her. I thought we’d go on a few dates, hopefully get freaky and move on.”

“Is she coming to the game?”

“Yeah.” He pulls his t-shirt up over his head. “You coming over to my place tonight for our cookout?”

“Nah, I promised I’d take the kids out for pizza.”

“Come on, dude. Don’t you have a babysitter? Come have a few drinks with us. Hell, bring the kids if you want.”

“It’s not their scene, man. Another time.”

I start changing clothes, and I’m standing there in just boxers when I hear Knox yelling from the showers.

“Where’s my goddamn stick?”

From a nearby bench, Jonah cups his hands around his mouth and calls out, “You lost it, asshole!”

“Jesus, he’s pissed,” I say to Vic. “Did someone take his stick or what?”

Victor smirks. “Fuck yeah, we did. It’s suspended from the ceiling in the arena, hanging right next to the flag. He’ll see it when we sing the National Anthem.”

I laugh at the thought. “You guys are pricks.”

“Yeah, well at least he doesn’t have a monkey jerking his giant dick inked on his ass for the rest of his life.” Vic gives me the finger.

I point at him and nod. “True.”Chapter FifteenAbbyI can’t get over how different Percy looks outside the gym. In jeans and a t-shirt, with some makeup on, she’s even more beautiful, which I would’ve thought impossible.

“You’re officially my coolest friend,” she says as we get into the car waiting for us at O’Hare. “That plane is badass.”

“It belongs to my company,” I remind her.

She snorts out a laugh. “Own it, girl. You’re stupid rich.”

“Kinda,” I concede. “But I really do reinvest a lot of my profits into the company and employees.”

“You looking for any personal trainers?” She grins and nudges me.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” our driver says to us. “I trust your flight was good?”

“It was, thank you,” I respond.

“Where can I take you?”

I hesitate, mentally considering all the places in Chicago I could suggest. There’s a great tearoom downtown and Michigan Avenue has some fantastic boutiques.

“Wherever the Chicago Blaze play,” Percy tells the driver. “We’re going to a game there.”

I shoot her a look. I was absolutely not coming to this game until I had a last-minute change of heart this morning. My libido couldn’t say no to an opportunity to be with Luca. And even now, I’m not sure it was a good idea.

“Going to the charity game?” the driver asks. “That usually draws a big crowd.”

“Yes we are,” Percy answers, patting my thigh reassuringly.

“Why aren’t you wearing red?” The driver gives us a reproaching look in the rearview mirror. “Blaze fans are always dressed in red.”

“Oh.” I glance down at my blue shirt. “I guess we can stop by the gift shop when we get there.”

The driver nods approvingly. “You’ll want a West sweater. He’s our goalie. Best goaltender in the league, hands down.”

“A sweater?” I ask, puzzled. “In the summer?”

“That’s what hockey jerseys are called.”

“Oh.”

He proceeds to recommend bars and restaurants near the arena, his Chicago accent thick and his hometown pride evident. Our conversation distracts me and I forget how nervous I am about this whole thing, until he pulls up in front of the arena.