Getting off the ice, I go into my locker and grab the backup jersey I have hanging in there. I grip it tightly as I throw the door open again and bring it over to Laiken, passing it to her as I stand off to the side of the bleachers. Her brows furrow as she holds it up and looks at the back. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not staking a claim on me or whatever it is you’re trying to do. Go get me one of Cam’s.” Yeah, that’s not happening. “It’s that or the bra, and you may be ballsy, but you’re not the type for self-humiliation.” She gives me a look that rivals the one she had in surf shop.
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