Dirty Pucker (Denver Bashers #2)

10. Ingrid

Chapter 10

Ingrid

“ Y ou want me to what?” Del frowns at me as he stands on the ice, decked out in his hockey gear.

I try my hardest not to laugh. Phone in hand, I carefully step toward him so I don’t fall since I’m not wearing skates.

“Just a few simple dance moves that are trending on TikTok.” I pull up a video of the dance and show it to him.

His eyebrows crash together. He looks pissed and bewildered all at once, and it’s honestly really cute.

He shakes his head. “Nope. I don’t dance,” he says, his tone gruff and hard.

I chuckle. “Fine. But you still owe me a TikTok. You lost our bet, remember?”

His forehead relaxes and that playful gleam in his eye returns. When I see the corner of his mouth twitch as his lips curve up in a smile, I feel tingles in my chest.

Maya was right when she said that Del doesn’t smile much. I think back to the other night, when we were hanging out at Spanky’s after the Bashers’ game. He didn’t smile much when he talked to the guys or his sister.

But every time he talked to me, he did.

That tingling feeling in my chest intensifies. I feel special knowing that I’m the only one who can get this fierce and grumpy hockey player to crack a smile.

It means he likes me, which isn’t exactly news…we almost kissed on day two of knowing each other because there’s an obvious physical attraction between us.

But it’s more than that. I’ve noticed the way Del talks and acts around other people. He frowns a lot. When he speaks, his tone can be pretty curt and harsh.

But when he talks to me, it’s a different story. His face relaxes. His tone is softer. He actually smiles. And he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. And it makes me weak in the knees every single time.

I tilt my head at him. “You’re not going to get out of this,” I tease.

“Oh, I know,” he says, a lilt to his voice. He huffs out a breath and tugs a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I can do one dance-type thing. You ready?”

I tell him yes, hold up my phone, and hit, “Record.”

He skates backward and then spins his body, like a figure skater doing a slow twirl. He spins a half-dozen times before coming to a stop.

Frowning, he looks at me. “There. Happy?”

I stop recording and look at him, surprised at how smoothly he pulled off that move, especially in all his gear. “That was really good.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to pull off a figure skating spin.”

He flashes that half-smile. “My high school girlfriend was a figure skater. She made me practice with her sometimes.”

I grin. “That’s really cute.”

I quickly post the video to the Bashers’ TikTok, choose a trending song, and write a short caption. Del skates up to me and I show it to him.

New guy’s got the moves #dance #bashers #hockey #fyp

I post the video. The team is due to practice here in a few minutes, so I start to slowly walk back to the edge of the ice. Del skates up to me and offers me his arm.

“Let me help you.”

I smile up at him. “Thanks.”

I hold on to his arm and let him lead us off the ice. As we glide along, I take in his size. At almost 5’10”, I’m not used to feeling small. But next to Del, I kind of am. He is massive when decked out in all his hockey gear. He’s already taller than me, but with his skates on he dwarfs me. I really, really like it.

We make it to the edge of the ice and I let go of his arm as I step off, missing the firmness of his muscled arm instantly.

“You headed back to your office?” he asks, still on the ice.

“Yeah, but I’ll be back before practice ends to film you guys for more social media content.”

He groans. I laugh. “Oh come on. It’s not that bad.”

When he raises his eyebrow at me in silent protest, I laugh even harder.

“I’d rather run suicides nonstop for an entire practice than film another TikTok dance.”

I stare at him. “You’re insane.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he shrugs.

“Don’t worry. I’m not making you guys dance.”

“What do you have planned?” he asks.

Before I can answer, the sound of doors opening echoes down the hall. A second later, there’s the sound of the coaching staff talking.

I turn to Del. “Have a good practice!” I say as I start to walk to my office.

“Hey, you didn’t answer my question. What are you making us do?”

I twist my head back to look at him. “It’s a surprise.”

Before I turn back around, I see the corner of his mouth hook up as he starts to smile. That familiar giddy feeling blooms in my chest at getting Del to smile yet again.

I walk over to the team bench during the last ten minutes of practice. The guys are taking shots at Blomdahl.

I lean against the edge of the bench and hold up my phone to film. I haven’t posted much practice footage on the Bashers’ social media accounts, so I want to film some today.

Theo whips the puck at Blomdahl, who catches it in his glove. Theo shakes his head in disappointment as he skates off. Next, Xander shoots the puck toward the top part of the net, but Blomdahl manages to block it with his stick.

A few more players line up to take their turn, but Blomdahl manages to keep all of the pucks out of the net.

I mouth a quiet, “Wow,” to myself as I film. Blomdahl is a brick wall. In the short time I’ve been working for the Bashers, I’ve been trying to learn as much as I can about the sport and the players on the team.

Blomdahl is one of the top goalies in the league, with an incredible save percentage and stats. He’s been on a hot streak the past few games too. He’s had two shutouts over the past four games.

I zoom in on him as he blocks shot after shot. I’ll make a TikTok about him tomorrow.

I watch as Del skates up to him with the puck. He swings his stick back, gearing up to shoot. Blomdahl dives forward, but at that same second, Del pulls back and switches direction, faking him out. Del hits the puck and it goes flying past Blomdahl’s shoulder, landing at the back of the net.

I stop filming and glance over to where the coaches are standing off to the side, observing the players. Coach Porter glances over at the goalie coach, who shrugs. Porter says something to him before looking back at the players.

“Nice shot, Richards,” he says.

Del takes off his helmet and says, “Thanks.” His chest rises as he takes a breath. When he shakes his head, his messy chocolate-brown hair falls into his face.

The movement triggers something inside of me…my brain instantly goes somewhere else…somewhere filthy.

I picture Del on top of me, looking just like he does now: cheeks flushed, breathing hard, his hair sweaty and messy, his hips pressed against mine…

I picture those soulful mahogany eyes gazing down at me. I picture his mouth hooking up in a crooked smile as he wraps his hands around my wrists and pins me against the bed…

I shake my head, and the visual disappears. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. He’s at practice, working his ass off.

I quietly scold myself for having such a dirty thought about Del. He’s my friend. Yeah, I’m attracted to him, but that doesn’t mean I have the right to mentally defile him.

Coach Porter blows the whistle, signaling the end of practice. As he talks with the players, I sit on the bench and edit some clips from today’s practice for TikTok.

“That was a solid showing today, gentlemen. Nice work. There’s still a lot we need to improve on though,” Coach Porter says.

He goes on about a few things he wants them to focus on.

“Don’t forget, I’m hosting a barbecue at my place this weekend for the entire team and team staff and their families,” he says. “We’ve got a tough run-up to the playoffs. We’ll be working our tails off these next few weeks, and you should relax before all that. So come, bring your partners and kids and families, and just focus on having a good time.”

He dismisses them and they all start heading toward the tunnel back to the locker room.

I walk up to them as they exit the ice.

“Wait. I’ve got an important question to ask you all before you leave,” I say as they come up to me in a line.

They all look at me as I hold up my phone and hit record. “Fans are dying to know what each of you prefers: blondes or brunettes?”

Half the guys chuckle. The others are smiling and shaking their heads.

“This social media stuff is serious business, huh?” Blomdahl says.

“Very serious,” I say.

I film their answers as they skate past me.

“Blonde.”

“Blonde.”

“Brunette.”

“Blonde.”

“Brunette.”

“Blondes, but dirty blondes.”

“Both. Preferably at the same time.”

I burst out laughing.

Xander rolls his eyes at the rookie player who gave that answer. He turns to me. “Strawberry blonde. Obviously.”

I go, “Aww.” His girlfriend Sophie, who’s the Bashers team doctor and Coach Porter’s daughter, has the most gorgeous strawberry blonde hair.

Theo skates up to me next. “Brunette,” he says through a knowing smile. I know he’s picturing his wife Maya.

I chuckle. “Duh.”

Blomdahl comes up to me, his eyebrows wrinkled together like he’s deep in thought. “Redhead.”

“Unexpected. I like it.”

Del moves up to me. His signature frown is in place, but there’s a fiery, teasing glint in his eyes. He slowly runs his gaze along the length of my hair.

I hold my breath at how he takes his time looking at me, how it feels like he’s savoring me with his eyes.

He drags his gaze over my face and looks me in the eye. His expression relaxes. His eyebrow lifts right along with the corner of his mouth.

“Blonde.” His voice is low and rough.

And then he winks at me before heading toward the locker room.

My mouth falls open and I let out a shaky breath. My skin is hot and tingly, and my heart is fluttering in my chest.

Holy crap.

My body is going wild just from Del’s gaze.

And in that moment I don’t feel so bad for having a naughty thought about him earlier. Because Del is cool with being a little naughty too.