"I'll do that," I say sarcastically. "As soon as I lose the finger, I'll have my people send it to your people. I'll even ask them to put it on ice so it's fresh for you. Are we done here? I believe your teammates would like to say hello."
His lips twitch with amusement before he jerks his chin in a nod and steps aside. "I guess I'll let you go say hello for now, baby doll."
"Kingston, right?"
"That's me."
"Have you ever had your own skate shoved up your ass?" I ask, my tone saccharine. "Because you're going to if you call me baby doll one more time." I'mnota toy to play with.
Everly looks horrified.
Kingston's teammates howl with laughter.
But he isn't the least bit offended. He just smirks at me before stepping back. "Sounds kinky. I like it, princess."
Oh, my god. He's a crazy man.
Chapter Two
Kingston
Idon't know whatthe fuck is wrong with me. Really, I don't. Normally, I ignore women. Pretending they don't exist saves time and frustration.
But I can't keep my eyes off Evie Alexander.
The petite brunette is the sweetest thing I've ever seen. I didn't even know eyes that shade of blue existed in real life…or thatcurves could actually be shaped like my future—specifically, one where my hands are all over her curves. But here we are.
As soon as she stepped into the locker room, my dick was fighting for his life, losing to my cup. The bastard isstillfighting for his life.
The smart curve of her mouth, the soft slope of her cheek, the way those baby blues bounced around like she was trying to take in everything all at once… every inch of her has my system on overload.
It's like someone hooked up cables to my body, sending electrical currents straight through me. Every goddamn part of me is lit up, humming with an energy I've never felt.
I'm not stupid enough to ignore that.
It's the only defense I have to excuse the way I stare at her like I'm trying to brand her body with my gaze. Maybe I am. I want her to feel me everywhere, invading every cell.
Rufus really should have guarded her better if he wanted to keep her. If he even exists. I have my doubts about that. She doesn't lie very well. Her eye was twitching.
She sings like a fucking angel, though.
The whole arena is silent as she belts out the anthem. I've got my hand over my heart, feeling it pound ninety miles an hour as I listen to her nail the notes most people butcher.
I have no idea why I step out of line as soon as she releases the last soaring note. I also have no idea why I skate toward her, as if it's my job to escort her off the ice. I know damn well that I'm risking a penalty before we've even started.
Ask me if I care.
"Kingston, where the fuck are you going?" our captain, Harlan Briggs, shouts, staring at me like I've lost my mind.
The rest of the team is beside him in varying states of amusement. If Royce Elliot grins any harder, the fucker is going to crack his cheeks.
I don't even look at Coach J. I already know he's glaring at me like he wants to choke me out. Hell, he probably does. I'm supposed to be the level-headed one who helps Harlan keep everyone else in line.
This is not level-headed. This is some level of mind fuckery I can't even begin to comprehend.
I'm five feet from Evie. Five measly feet.
She sees me, and her pretty blue eyes flare with recognition and something that looks a lot like panic. She quickly turns like she's going to try to escape, murmuring something to Hughes Jackson, the suit standing beside her.