Puck Pact: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (East Coast Series)

If you asked me why I’m outside of Aarya’s art gallery, waiting for her to get off work, I wouldn’t have an answer for you.

Actually, I’d tell you it’s to pay her the money I owe her from our bet. But I could’ve easily sent her a check in the mail. The money isn’t the only reason I’m here.

Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment, teasing myself with something I can never have.

Maybe I’m just a fool.

Probably both.

I haven’t been able to get this woman out of my head since the moment I heard her sassy mouth the night we met, and the last encounter we had at McKinley’s house only brought me closer to breaking all of my rules.

Would it be so bad for one night? Hell no. I have no doubt Aarya would be every one of my fantasies come true.

But a woman like her would chew me up and spit me out after she’s finished with me. I’d want more, and she’d only discard me after she got what she wanted. I can’t get invested in someone who doesn’t want me, the real me, someone who isn’t looking for the thrill of a night with a pro athlete.

I come with too much baggage to be careless over one night of sex.

Which is one of the reasons I lost the air hockey game on purpose. Aarya doesn’t truly want a date with me, and she obviously needs the money. I didn’t want to take that from her just to force her to go out with me.

I push off my bike when I spot her exiting the gallery. Her long dark hair cascades over her shoulders in loose, bouncing waves, complimenting her light-brown skin. Thick eyebrows arch over her dark eyes, and red lipstick makes her plump lips pop, offsetting the black sweater dress clinging to her lush curves. Her black leather ankle boots clack against the pavement as she steps outside.

Damn, she’s sensational.

She locks the front door and spins around, then gasps when she sees me.

I grimace, holding up my hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Fuck.” Her eyes are wide as she clutches her chest. “You can’t lurk around late at night dressed in all black and sneak up on a woman.”

“I wasn’t lurking. I was standing here in plain sight. I thought you saw me.” I rub my palm against her back. “Are you okay?”

She flinches at my touch and jerks away from me. “I’m fine. You stalking me now, Cheesecake?”

“I wanted to give you the money I owe you. I would’ve called you, but I didn’t think you’d answer if you didn’t recognize the number, so Cass told me where you worked.”

“Traitor,” she hisses. “Who says I’d have answered even if I did recognize the number?”

“Touché.” I chuckle. “Let me give you a ride home.”

Her eyes dart to my bike. “You have a motorcycle?”

“Yeah, why do you say it like that?”

“I expected you to drive a Camry or a minivan. Something safe and reliable.”

“That sounds like an insult.”

“It’s not an insult if it’s the truth.”

“Come on.” I hold up the spare helmet I brought for her. “Let me give you a ride.”

She spins on her heels. “Thanks, but I’ll walk.”

I follow after her. “I can get you there quicker.”This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

“I refuse to get on that thing.”

“I’m a very careful driver.”

“No such thing on a motorcycle.”

I frown. “You walk home alone often?”

“Every night.”

“That’s not safe.”

“I can handle myself, Big Man.”

“Do you know how many women get abducted every year in this country?”

“What about motorcycle accidents, hmm? Do you know those statistics as well?”

I guide her to the inside of the sidewalk so I’m the one closest to the street. “I do, and you’re safer on a bike than you are walking at night in Jersey City.”

“Listen, Fruit Cake. I’m less than a ten-minute walk from my apartment building. So, if you can skip the lecture about stranger danger and get to the paying me part, I’d really appreciate it.”

I twist my backpack around in front of me, and yank on the zipper before reaching for the envelope inside. “Here you go.”

She lifts the flap and her eyes double in size as she sifts through the cash. “Alexander, this is too much.”

“You asked me to pay you what I’d spend on our date.”

“You don’t drop two grand on a date.”

“Says who?”

She sputters. “Says…says…anyone. That’s crazy. What could you possibly spend that much money on?”

“Guess you’ll never find out because you won’t go on a date with me.”

She’s not wrong. I wouldn’t normally spend that much on a date, but she sounded like she needed the money, and I felt bad.

She rolls her eyes as she stuffs the envelope into her purse. After a moment, her demeanor turns sincere. “Thank you. Seriously, I really need that money, so I appreciate it.”

“Do you mind if I ask why you need the money?”

“I love my job, but my boss sucks. I’m saving up to open my own gallery one day.” She huffs out a laugh and shakes her head, running her hands up and down her arms. “It’s far off in the distance, but it’s a dream of mine.”

I slip off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders to keep her warm. “Here.”

She dodges me. “I’m good.”

But I place it on her shoulders anyway. “It’s cold. Just wear it.”

She leaves it like that, hanging off her shoulders instead of sticking her arms inside and zippering it up.

Brat.

“Why does your boss suck?” I ask.

“He’s a misogynistic pig who thinks it’s okay to sexually harass his female employees.”

My feet falter. “I’m sorry, what? He’s sexually harassing you?”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “He hasn’t forced himself on me or anything.”

“But he’s making you feel uncomfortable?”

“He’s not the first man to make a crude comment or two, and he won’t be the last. I just have to bide my time until I can get out of there and open my own place.”

I glance over my shoulder, tempted to head back to her gallery. “Your boss still in there?”

“No, he left earlier. And you are not going to march in there like some overprotective meathead and fight him. I don’t need to get fired.”

I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth. “Fine. But you’ll tell me if he ever puts a finger on you.”

“Like I said before, I’m a big girl and I can handle myself. Thank you for the money, but you don’t need to worry about me.”

It makes me wonder who does worry about her, if anyone. It’s obvious that she’s been taking care of herself for a while now. Was it her family or someone else who made this woman think she’s all she has in this world?

I change the subject so I don’t upset her. “Cassidy told me you were coming to the game tomorrow night, so I figured you needed something to wear.” I reach back into my bag and pull out my yellow and black jersey with the number sixteen etched onto it.

“Is this yours?” She takes it from me, holding it up in front of her body.

“It’s one of mine, yeah.”

She glances up at me before tearing her eyes away too quickly. “Thanks.”

“Do you know anything about hockey?”

“Not unless it’s air hockey.”

I grin. “I think you’ll enjoy it. You seem to have a competitive streak in you, and hockey is an exciting game to watch.”

Aarya slows down as we approach a tall apartment building. “Well, this is me.” She hands over my jacket. “Are you sure about this money? It’s…too much.”

“Consider it an investment on your dream.” I hike a shoulder. “Besides, you won it fair and square, remember?”

She graces me with a genuine smile, wide and beautiful as it lights up her face. “Thank you.”

Affection warms my chest. “Goodnight, spitfire.”

She shoots me a wink. “Night, Bundt Cake.”