Consider Me (Playing For Keeps Book 1)

CARTER

WHAT KIND of celebration do we think Olivia will enjoy best when I score for her tonight? The obvious answer is a sneaky wink in her direction, but she chose me, so she has to know she chose flash. I do everything with flair, not in the shadows.

Except Olivia, for obvious reasons. I do her in the shadows. Though I like to think I do her with flair, as well…

Nabbing a loose puck, I fire it off the boards as I scan the seats behind the team bench, searching for Olivia. Her coat is draped over her seat, next to Cara’s, so I know they’re already here.

“Word on the street is you bought your girl a furnace.” Emmett hip checks me into the boards and steals the puck off me, twisting and hammering it off toward an unsuspecting Adam, whose blocker goes up just in time to deflect it from the net.

Garrett chokes on air. “Pardon? A furnace?”

“Her house was fucking freezing,” I mutter, pulling a puck from between his legs. I flip it onto the tip of my stick and Emmett whacks it off before I can show off.

“A brand-new furnace,” Garrett muses, rubbing his jaw with his gloved fingers. “Huh. We sure she’s not using you for your money?” He shuts up real fast when Emmett and I sandwich him between the two of us and the boards. “Okay, okay! I was joking!”

“Eh! Boys! Save it for the other team!”

My head lifts at Cara’s voice as I release Garrett, and I grin like a total loser when I meet Olivia’s entertained gaze. I shove Emmett out of the way on our way to the bench, and hop over the boards, slapping my gloves against the plexiglass as Olivia makes her way down the aisle. Her Vipers tee is skintight, showing off an inch of skin above the waist of those painted-on jeans, the little gem in her belly button peeking out when she adjusts her coat before sitting.

“Ah-ah-ah,” I tsk. “Gimme a spin, gorgeous.” I had this shirt waiting for her in the limo I sent to pick her up for the game. I know she knows I wanna see what’s on the back.

Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of rosy pink. “Carter.”

I smile, twirling my finger in the air. Olivia rolls her eyes and holds her hands above her head—bag of popcorn in one, beer in the other—showing off the most spectacular backside. I resist the urge to bite my knuckles, only because my gloves stink, but goddamn, that 87 and Beckett decorating her back are really doing something for me.

I press my visor against the glass. “I’m so hard right now.”

“Beckett!” Coach shakes my helmet. “Stop flirting with your girlfriend and get your ass back on the ice for warm-up!”

“Just telling her about the goal I’m gonna score her.”

All I want to do is show off for my girl and I know she loves it, even if she’s rolling her eyes at most of my ridiculous antics.

Three minutes into the second period, Garrett jumps on the ice a moment before me, grabbing the puck as it slices across the red line. He calls my name as I leap over the boards, and I tap my stick on the ice three times to let him know I’m here. The puck hits the curved blade of my stick without any effort from Garrett, his eyes bouncing between the net and the defenseman who’s about to get in his face.

“On your heels, Beckett!” Emmett hollers from my left, alerting me to the forward who’s hot on my ass.

I slam on the breaks and watch as the left-winger goes flying by me before he realizes I’m not with him anymore. In the second it takes him to twist back around, I spin by him, looking for my guys.

“All you!” Garrett shouts from the side of the net, ready for a rebound. “Stuff it in, baby!”

My left leg slides back as I wind up, and my stick hits the puck with a crack like lightning. Silence hangs heavy in the arena, every fan holding their breath as I let that bad boy soar, and when it smacks off the crossbar with a ding so loud it echoes before falling down into the net, the entire arena explodes.

“Bar down, baby!” I shriek, throwing my arms above my head.

“Fucking snipe show, bud!” Emmett roars, tackling me into the boards.

I slip backward, falling to the ice as Garrett piles on top of us, followed by our defensemen. When I finally make it back to my feet, I scan the crowd for the only person I want to see.

Olivia’s on her feet, clapping and hollering with Cara. Her eyes find mine as I skate by the bench, bumping gloves with my teammates, and she flashes me a beam brighter than the red light that’s still flashing on top of the goalie net.

The cameras pan my way when I stop in front of her, and her eyes widen, smile evaporating, replaced by one of pure horror as she watches my stick rise in slow motion.

Don’t you dare, Olivia mouths.

But Cara’s jumping up and down, shaking Olivia’s shoulders, just daring me to do it.

So I do. I point my stick at her, bring my glove to my lips, and blow Olivia the biggest, loudest smooch I can muster, sending it out into the arena as the crowd goes nuts. Her cherry red face lights up the jumbotron for the second time in her life, because I’ll never learn my lesson.

I throw an arm up overhead, gesturing at the screen with my stick. “That’s my fucking princess!” I did say I do everything with flare.

They replay my goal on the big screen three times as I lean on the boards and guzzle down some water, chatting with the guys. When I line up at the red line for the face-off, I sneak another peek at Olivia. She’s got her feet up on the glass, sunken halfway back in her seat, one hand covering too much of her outstandingly gorgeous face. She narrows her eyes. They get extra squinty at the grin I flash her.

“Fuck me. Can I have her?” Lucas Daley, centerman and assistant captain for Seattle, smirks at me as he glides in a small circle, stick across his hips.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“When you’re done with her.” He glances in Olivia’s direction. “Can I have her?”

My teeth clack when I slam them together. “I don’t plan on being done with her.”

His disbelieving snort has my neck cracking as it strains left to right. He’s trying to get me riled up and I can’t let that happen, especially with Olivia here.

“You’ve fucked her, now I’m waiting for you to do what you do best and chuck her.”

“Fuck off, Daley,” Emmett flicks out with disinterest.

Daley lifts an amused brow. “Or what? Your buddy here gonna knock me out?”

“If you don’t stop running your mouth?” I skate forward until my chest touches his. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

The ref pushes an arm between us. “All right, gentlemen. Enough of that. Let’s get this shit on the road.”

I take my place on the ice, shaking off the anger that’s tumbling off my shoulders in waves as I get ready for the face-off with Daley. The ref shoves his whistle between his lips and bends, the puck in his hand hovering over the blue dot.

“Jesus, fucking look at her, would you?”

With a sigh, the ref straightens, scrubbing a palm down his face. I barely register it out of the corner of my eye. I’m too focused on Daley’s gaze, which is glued to my girlfriend, who happens to be watching us while she pulls on her bottom lip.

“She’s a tiny, slutty little puck bunny, isn’t she? I’m gonna rip her in two.”

The growl that tears up my throat and snarls its way past my lips isn’t even human. Before I know what’s happening, my gloves and stick are on the ice, fists balled around the neck of Daley’s jersey, my face in his as I haul him close.

“Say one more fucking word about her and you’re gonna be spitting chiclets.” My pulse hammers in my ears, chest tightening as it swells with rage. I’m a volcano, teetering on the edge of eruption. Nobody will be able to stop me once I start.

A smug grin spreads across Daley’s face as he drops his stick and tosses his gloves.

“Keep it clean and quick,” the ref tells us on an exhale, clearing the space around us.

The atmosphere in the arena is crazed, not having had the chance to calm down from the goal, hyped up with the looming tussle. These fans go wild for fights and tonight is no different. They love watching Carter Beckett lose his shit on occasion, which is exactly what’s about to happen.

Dropping my grip on Daley’s jersey, I keep my fists up as we start spinning in a slow circle.

“Are you clean?” His gaze flicks to Olivia. “Don’t like to wrap it when I fuck a girl who looks like that. Wanna feel every inch of—”

My fist connects with his mouth, his head snapping backward, shutting him the hell up. He sputters, wiping the blood from his cracked lip before he chuckles.

“She looks terrified. Think she’s worried I’m gonna knock you on your ass, Beckett?”

His arm swings out, connecting with the edge of my shoulder when I dodge the punch. He backs away when I lunge for him, but I grab hold of his jersey and drag him right back.

“You’re still talking,” I spit, “but I’m not the one bleeding.”

Daley twists in my grasp when I swing at his face again, and I tug his jersey up and over his head, knocking his helmet off in the process. I let my fist fly once more, cracking him in the nose. Blood coats my knuckles and drips down his face, dotting the ice, and he dives for me, grabbing my jersey as the two of us go tumbling to the ice. His fist flails, crashing against the corner of my mouth as my helmet pops off, and I ignore the sharp sting it brings as I roll on top of him. My hair slaps against my forehead as I pull my arm back and send my fist flying forward, once, twice, three times.

“Beckett! Enough!” The ref skates toward us from the right, the linesmen flanking the left. “Up! Both of you! It’s over!”

Gripping Daley’s jersey, I yank his face to mine, chest heaving as I seethe out, “You won’t fucking touch her.”

I feel a hand on my back, and a second later Garrett’s hoisting me to my feet, pushing me down the rink. “Shit, that was fun to watch.”

Emmett hands me my gloves and stick. “Doesn’t look like Ollie had that much fun.”

I glance up at her as my punishment is handed to me over the speakers: five minutes each for me and Daley. Olivia’s anxious gaze is set on me, both knees bouncing, the tip of her thumb in her mouth like she’s gnawing on her nail.

Cara looks a lot like she just watched the best movie while she shovels popcorn into her mouth. She hits me with two thumbs up and an oversized grin. “Fucking right, Beckett! Knock ’em dead, baby!”

I sink to the bench in the penalty box with a sigh, running my fingers through my drenched hair, pushing it off my face when our trainer joins me to clean my lip.

Chris dabs at the blood that’s caked in the corner of my mouth. “Never thought I’d see the day where Carter Beckett fought over a girl.”

“First time for everything.” I hiss at the sting of the antiseptic.

“Was it worth it?”

“She’ll always be worth it.”

“Whatever it takes to keep your girl safe?”

“Whatever it takes.” A promise I intend to keep.

“You sure she’s staying the whole weekend?” Garrett picks up the backpack in the backseat of the limo, examining it. “Doesn’t seem like she brought much.”

Olivia’s a minimalist, I think, so that’s probably why. But instead I say, “Because she’s not gonna need any clothes while we’re at home.”

Adam huffs a laugh, popping the button on his coat as he stretches out. “I miss those good old days.”

Emmett arches a brow. “If the days aren’t good, Woody, then you gotta do something about it. That’s not right, bud.”

“I don’t know what else to do. I feel like I’ve tried everything. I managed to convince her to meet us at the bar, at least.”

First time in, like, four months, I say in my head. The looks on Emmett and Garrett’s faces tell me they’re thinking the same thing. I don’t know what the hell is going on with Adam and Courtney, but something sure as hell isn’t right.

I spot my gorgeous brunette the second we step through the door. She’s leaning over the bar, chin propped up in her hand, eyes on the TV above as it plays a highlight of my goal. I ditch my coat in the booth Cara’s set up at, drop a kiss to her cheek, and make a beeline for Olivia.

“Your ass is out of this fucking world,” I murmur, dropping my chin to her shoulder as my arms come around her.

“Mmm.” She reaches back, threading her fingers through my hair as she tips her head to the side, letting my lips meet the soft, warm skin on her neck. “You’re so romantic.”

“I’ll show you romantic.” I slip a hand under the front of her shirt, covering her belly, enjoying the way her muscles jump at my touch, and dip the tips of my free fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans. “I’m gonna shred these jeans when we get home. Burn ’em in the fire.”

“What will I wear?”

“My naked body, draped over yours, while I fuck your brains out.”

“All weekend?” My favorite ass rubs against the bulge in my slacks, Olivia’s fingers tightening around my hair, her other hand covering mine on her stomach.

“All. Damn. Weekend.” I nip the edge of her jaw. “You’re gonna beg me to stop.”

“Why would I do that?”

I hum a laugh, turning her toward me. “If you wanna get a head start, we can sneak off right now to the bathroom.”

“You’d never fit in the stalls.”

“I love when you talk about how massive I am. It only pumps my ego.”

“You know damn well I’m not talking about your dick.”

“You love my monster dick,” I tease, squeezing her ass and pressing her body against mine as my tongue sweeps her mouth.

“I do,” she agrees, fingers curling around the hair hanging down my neck. Her thumb brushes against the cut on the corner of my mouth. “But you know what I don’t love?”

I drop my head backward with a deep belly groan, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden sternness lacing her tone. “You tricked me. I thought I was gonna get away with it.”

Olivia lifts one perfect brow and draws her touch back, pinning her arms across her chest. “You’re in trouble, Carter Beckett.”

My gaze hoods. “I love it when you talk teacher to me, baby.”

“Don’t sweet-talk me. It won’t work.”

“It won’t?” Tugging her back onto me, I kiss her neck, wet slides and nipping teeth until I find her ear. “What about kisses? Will those work?”

“No.” It’s more gasp than word so I’m calling bullshit on that answer. “Carter.” A whimper, probably due to the way my tongue flicks out, tasting the skin below her ear. Her fingers dig in, squeezing my biceps as she leans into me like she needs my body to keep her upright. It’s cool; I’ll always support her.

Olivia groans, melting into me.

“Impossible not to give in to me, right?”

“I hate you,” she mutters without any heat.

“Nah. You love me.” Against my lips, I feel the heat of my accusation creeping up her neck, and I hide my smile in her hair when I crush her to me for a hug. Lacing my fingers through hers, I scoop her beer up off the bar when the bartender slides it over, and tug on her hand. “Come on, pumpkin. I want everyone to see me with the gorgeous girl from the jumbotron tonight.”

“And that’s another thing!” She throws her free hand in the air. I love her little temper tantrums. “You embarrassed me again tonight.”

I shove her into the booth and slide in next to her. “You call it embarrassing you; I call it showing you off. How else would the world know you’re mine?”

Cara lifts an amused brow as she watches us. “You’re still mad at him? Even knowing now why he fought? I think he deserves a big ol’ BJ for what he did.”

I clear my throat and tap Cara’s shin with my foot before slicing my hand across my neck twice. Ex-fucking-nay, I mentally scream at her.

The corners of her mouth curl. “Oh. You didn’t tell her.”

“Tell me what?” Olivia looks between us. “What didn’t you tell me?”

“Uh…” I scratch my head, searching for something to tell Olivia, anything other than what she’s asking. “That you’re…my…I…looove you?” Huh. Kinda feels like I just satisfied an urge to say words that are 1000 percent too early to actually say. Weird.

The frown that tips her mouth tells me she doesn’t find it particularly funny. “Carter.”

“Ollie girl.” I take a sip of her beer, holding her gaze.

“He fought for you,” Cara blurts, then slaps both hands over her mouth like the urge was uncontrollable. “Sorry. So sorry.”

Sighing, I sink back in the booth, gaze narrowing in on Emmett, who happens to be actively looking anywhere but at me.

“Carter?” Olivia touches my arm. “What does she mean you fought for me?”

I lift a shoulder and let it fall. “It’s nothing, really. Daley just said some shit I didn’t like.”

“Said he wanted to split you in half with his dick,” Cara blurts again.

“Care!” Emmett holds his hands up in a what the fuck kinda way, eyes wide, while Garrett and Adam choke on their drinks. “Babe, come on.”

“I’m sorry! I can’t help it!” She looks at Olivia. “Isn’t it hot, though? He defended your honor! There was blood everywhere! It was a war, and you were the prize.”

“She was never up for grabs.” I squeeze Olivia’s knee beneath the table. She’s exceptionally quiet, staring up at me. “You okay?”

“Looks like she’s thinking about that BJ you deserve,” Cara murmurs around her glass.

“I’m bored, Adam,” a familiar voice cuts in. A redhead appears at Adam’s side, blue eyes glazing over Olivia before landing on me. She smirks before looking to Adam. “Let’s go.”

“Already? It’s only—we just—I mean, we only just got here.” Adam frowns, reaching for his girlfriend’s hand. She pulls it away before he can take it. “You haven’t met Carter’s girlfriend yet. Olivia.” He gestures at Olivia, who glues on a bright beam and holds her hand out. “This is Courtney.”

Courtney’s eyes move down Olivia’s body and back up before sliding my way again. “Hi,” she tosses out half-assed, ignoring her hand. “Girlfriend, huh?”

“Yes.” My jaw ticks. The dislike I feel for this girl is off the charts. I don’t know why Adam is still with her.

“Court,” he urges under his breath. “Come on.”

Courtney rolls her eyes before taking Olivia’s hand and giving it a quick, flimsy shake, then dropping it like she’s a disease she doesn’t want to touch. “I’m gonna go get another drink with my friends then.”

“Sorry, Ollie,” Adam whispers, scratching a hand through his hair. “She’s not usually so…she’s normally, um…I’m sorry.”

Olivia gives his hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Adam.”

The night’s kinda fucked from there. Adam’s in a sour mood and everyone’s quiet and tired. Olivia’s tucked into my side, her hand on my thigh when her head hits my shoulder only forty-five minutes later.

I press a kiss to the crown of her head. “Wanna go home so I can worship your body?”

“That sounds nice,” she says with a soft, happy sigh.

She takes off to the bathroom after we say good-bye, and I gather our coats and head down the hallway to wait for her. I learned my lesson after the last time she went to the bathroom in this bar.

The skin on the back of my neck pebbles, and a moment later Courtney saunters into the dark hall.

“Carter,” she drawls, sidling up next to me. “How long’s this girlfriend thing gonna last?”

I shift on my feet, ignoring the booze oozing off her. She hasn’t set foot back in our booth since she disappeared after her stellar performance earlier tonight. “As long as she keeps me.”

“Come on. You and I both know that’s not you.” The tips of her fingernails land on my neck, drawing a slow path up, and I turn on her, crowding her space.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What?” Her tongue flicks across her lower lip as her hand sinks into my hair.

“Get your hands off me. You’re dating one of my best friends. I have a girlfriend.”

Her eyes gleam as she winds my tie around her fist. “Poor Carter. No fun for you anymore now that you’ve got your balls in a vice. Is your girlfriend not up for sharing? What a drag.”

I lower my face until the tips of our noses nearly touch. “Walk. The fuck. Away.”

With a wink, she strides off with a little too much swing in her step, and I run an agitated palm down my chest.

I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into her in the last six months. I’ve never had an issue with her until a pool party at their place last summer when she followed me inside the house and slipped her hand up my shirt. When I asked her what she was doing, she said she saw the way I looked at her. I still don’t have a clue what she was talking about, but I turned around and left without the beer I’d gone in for.

The longer I stand here, the more restless I become. My shoulders feel tight and rigid, and I’ve got a headache brewing behind my eyes. I don’t know if I need sleep, caffeine, or simply Olivia, but I decide a quick glass of ice water will do while I wait, so I guzzle one down at the bar before heading back toward the bathrooms.

A leggy brunette straightens from her spot on the wall when she sees me. She’s mildly familiar, but I can’t place her.

“There you are.”

Exhaustion tingles my spine. “Do I know you?”

She bites her lip. “You showed me the view from your penthouse while I was pressed up against your bedroom window.” Slinging her arms around my neck, she murmurs, “I hear you’re ready for seconds.”