Stubborn Puckboy (Puckboys, #9)

by Eden Finley

Whether or not this will turn out to be a mistake in the future, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that when I open my eyes again and meet Novi’s gaze, he’s smiling in a way I’ve never seen him smile before. It’s official. I’m claiming it. That smile belongs to me.

“I deserve to exist too, even if in secret,” I force out. “Jesus, Novi.” Turkey grabs my shoulder and pulls me into an aggressive hug. He squeezes me tight, not caring he showered and I stink like a dog. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’ve got your back, brother. Always.”

“Back to my question. Are you on your way over yet?” It’s so tempting, but I really do need to prepare for this meeting in the morning, and I’m not going to let Novi learn that he can ask for something and I’ll immediately give it to him. He can figure that out at a later date.

I want to bring relaxed Colby back. Seeing him so filled with tension whenever we’re together in public only reminds me that while he’s making me happy, I’m doing the opposite for him. Stress can also lead to heart attacks. I don’t want him to have a heart attack. I need his heart. I’m going to win it one day.

“Novi? What the fuck?” He dramatically clutches at his chest. “Is it stress? Are you having a heart attack?” He watches me with wide eyes. “I don’t think stress is the reason my soul almost left my body.” “Then what is it?” “You scared the shit out of me!” I frown. “Me?” “You’re in my house. Creeping around in the dark.” Oh good, he noticed. “Romantic, da?” “I don’t think breaking and entering qualifies.”

“Something like that.” Colby steps back. “But since this is all friendship, I guess I better get dressed.” Then the teasing bastard flicks open his towel and lets it fall to the ground. My gaze immediately tracks over him, remembering all those times in the locker room I secretly wished for this to happen. He’s half-hard, his body still as sexy as ever, and when he turns to walk up the hall, displaying that delicious ass, I have to bite my fist against the need. “Put on clothes,” I beg. “Lots and lots of clothes.” “Warm clothes?” “Don’t care. Just lots. Many clothes.” Colby’s laugh rings out behind him as he disappears into his room. “And not those slutty fucking sweatpants!” If Colby’s going to spend the night teasing me, I will never survive it. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Novi: What you doing? I quickly type out: I’m at dinner with a friend, and no, I’m not coming over afterward. Novi: We’ll see. Me: I’m not. Novi: Okay. Me: I hate you. Novi: I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.

“I’ll go. If you want me there.” He scoffs. “Now who speaks bad English?” “How was that bad English?” “Because it makes no sense. I want you everywhere with me.” Aww.

I go to step past Oskar myself when he cuts me off. “Arriving together?” I wonder how much Lane has told him. “We do work out of the same arena. Carpooling is good for the environment.” Oskar nods solemnly. “I’ve heard that. So is showering together. Saves water.” Ignoring his blatant prying, I say, “It’s true. It’s why hockey players shower together. Or so I’ve heard.” “Lies. We all shower together for the orgies.” “Heard that,” Lane calls from the other room.

I’ll find another league I love, but I have to readjust my expectations.” “You shouldn’t have to.” “I know. And if I didn’t love you so damn much, I wouldn’t be de-prioritizing my career for you. But I do. And I am.” “Y-you love me? I mean, of course you do. I am very lovable.” I smile. “You are. Somehow.” “I love you too, by the way.” Yep. I don’t need the NHL. I only need Novi.

I stand over Colby, watching him sleep, letting the love I wasn’t going to tell him about yet wrap around me. The fact that even in all this uncertainty, he still put that word out there proves more than ever that I have to protect him. My Colby will have everything he wants.

I won’t settle for him being happy with a consolation prize. Radimir Novicov doesn’t settle, and neither will his future husband.

“We’ll work out logistics,” Hank says and stands. “Until then, do you think you can keep the same level of professionalism you’ve had?” “Same level?” Novi asks, hiding that cheeky smile of his behind his hard features. “I will behave. But I can’t say the same for Coach Kessinger. Now he knows I am interested, he won’t be able to stay away.” Coach Whelan turns to me. “Are you sure you want to date him?” “Honestly, I’m asking myself that same question, but unfortunately, I’ve been curious about the man I half fell in love with seventeen years ago.” Hank mumbles, “You two better get married to make this migraine worth it,” as he leaves. Novi looks triumphant. “Who knew GM was a romantic?”

I still can’t believe that my plan worked—not that it was a plan, exactly. More like a vibe. And I pulled it off anyway.

“You’re mad at me?” “Yeah. A bit.” “I can work with a bit.” I swear he almost smiles. “I’m serious. That could have been bad.”

“Please stop.” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You are my whole world, and as much as it’s hard to admit, this team needs you more than it needs me.” “That was almost humble of you.”

“We’ll miss you. Other than this last week, you’ve been a joy to coach.” “I am a very lovable man. Will you cry at my farewell party?” “What farewell party?” “The one you will be throwing me.” He stares at me like I have sprouted a horn. “Tell you what: I’ll send someone for cake. Best I can go.” “Deal.”

I hurry to turn around as Lachie Kikishkin walks outside … pulling a llama with him.