Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(70)

That does it.

My release is so powerful I damn near take us both to the ground.





25

Kingston

I’ve never called in sick to practice unless I was hovering on death’s door. Fortunately, that has only happened one time, and I’d suffered a debilitating case of the flu.

Today, I probably should’ve bugged out and told them I was sick because my concentration is for shit. Somehow, despite my desire to move Ellie from the shower to her bed where I could make love to her for the rest of the day, I managed to pull myself away and get to the arena.

I did this for two reasons. One, I damn sure don’t want Spencer getting all up in my shit about what I’m doing with his sister. I’m sure he knows I took her home last night, and it wouldn’t have been a coincidence if I didn’t show up today. And two, I wanted to give Ellie a little space.

After what we experienced, I damn sure didn’t want to suffocate her by sticking around longer than I should have. Then again, I also didn’t want to rush out the door like I had somewhere else I’d rather be.

“Hey, Rush! You’re in goal tonight!” Coach calls out from his position near the boards.

I nod my head in understanding.

“You can head out if you want.”

“Or,” another voice calls out, “you can stay.”

I glance over to see Coach Putnam peering at me from the other end of the ice. He waves me down, and I abandon the net to go see what he needs.

“Why don’t you work with Locke for a half hour or so? Let’s focus on penalty shots.”

I nod. Oddly, I’m relieved at the opportunity to do a little coaching today. I definitely need some time to focus on the here and now. We’ve got a game tonight, and if I go out there like this—with my mind still in that shower with Ellie—I’m going to be shit on the ice.

At least this way, I can force myself to focus and not risk personal injury when my mind floats back to what happened between Ellie and me a short while ago. Because I know for a fact, that’s exactly where my head’s going to be until the next time I see her. Which I hope is really f*cking soon.





Ellie: Good luck tonight. I’ll be in the stands cheering for you.

Kingston: No pressure, huh?

Ellie: Of course not. You’re gonna be great.

Kingston: I seem to do well when you’re there. So…

Ellie: It has nothing to do with me.

Kingston: I wouldn’t assume anything. I had a rocky season last year. The only difference between then and now is … you.

Ellie: Aww. That’s better than flowers.

Kingston: Nice try. I know not to send you flowers.

Ellie: I detest getting flowers. However, sweet words will get you where you want to be.

Kingston: Damn good information to have.





26

Thursday, November 3rd

Ellie: Sorry about the loss tonight.

Kingston: I told you, I do better when you’re at the game.

Ellie: I tend to disagree, but if you hadn’t been in St. Louis, I would’ve been there.

Kingston: Well, now I wish you were here for entirely different reasons.

Ellie: Like?

Kingston: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because your presence alone would turn a shitty night better.

Ellie: I’m going to take that as a compliment.

Kingston: As you should.

Ellie: Well, I can tell you one thing I would do if I was there.

Kingston: What’s that?

Ellie: I’d start with distracting you.

Ellie: With my mouth.

Kingston: Aww, f*ck. Just mentioning it worked.





27

Ellie

Sunday, November 6th “And then?”

I knew the second I invited my best friend to come over and share a bottle of wine (or two), the topic would land on Kingston. It’s a good thing I gave Bianca permission to go to the movies tonight with Gabby, otherwise, it’s possible she would’ve been scarred for life.

Never mind the fact that the subject Noelle and I are currently on is completely my fault. We’ve been happily talking about crazy things that’ve happened at the bar when all of a sudden, I contract diarrhea of the mouth, spilling every damn thing that happened between me and Kingston on Tuesday morning.

Now, as is usually the case, Noelle wants to know everything.

“Was it fantastic? Phenomenal? Earth-shattering?”

“Something along those lines,” I agree.

“I’ve never understood why the two of you haven’t bumped uglies already.”

“That sounds really disgusting,” I say with a giggle. I mean, seriously, who came up with that?

“What else?”

“Nothing else.” I grin, loving the fact that I’m irritating her.

“Oh, come on,” Noelle grumbles. “If you f*cked Mount Rushmore, I need deets. Right down to the size and shape.”

I choke on my wine, bolting upright on my couch to keep from drenching myself and the cushions with red liquid.

“Was it big? Small? Thin? What about the head? Short? Long? Wide? Does he have big balls? Does he shave? Is he circumcised? Surely he is.”

Knowing Noelle is on a roll and the only way to stop her is to feed her information, I hold up a hand. “Big,” I say, coughing to clear my throat.