Tempting (Red Lips & White Lies Book 1)

The music blasts through the speaker as the arena comes to life around us. Excitement and energy doing their job to help pump us up while we warm up as a team. I’m stretching out my quads when a pair of skates stops in front of me, and I hear a teammate yell to get back on your own side of the ice.

I look up and see my little brother come to a stop in front of me. He smirks around his mouth guard. “You look kinda out of shape, brother.”

I stand and shove Hendrix away with a laugh. “Yeah well, you still skate slow as shit. No clue how the fuck you made it to the NHL with those moves.”

Leo skates over, and I hear a reporter yelling, “Nixon, Leo, Hendrix. Turn around and give us a shot.”

Hendrix stands between us and throws an arm around each of our shoulders. “Get a good look now, because neither of these guys’ll be smiling when I kick their asses and they lose tonight.”

“Okay, big mouth.” Cross, our actual team captain to Easton’s co-captain, cuts his youngest brother-in-law off before he starts shit before the game. “No getting us all thrown in the sin bin before the puck’s even been dropped.”

“Wouldn’t be the first Sinclair to do it,” Hendrix points out and smiles.

“That shit was fun. I have no regrets,” I tell them as Ares ices us all when he stops next to us.

“Are we having a tea party no one invited me to?” he asks with a dead serious look on his face.

“Just saying hi before all you fuckers are crying in your beer that you lost,” Hendrix jokes. Fucker probably thinks that’s actually happening, but he’s got no clue. Our cold streak lasted exactly one week. As soon as we worked out the kinks and brought up a new winger from the farm team, things started clicking again. “Hey, there’s the girls.”

We all look over to where Hendrix is pointing at Gracie, Everly, Lindy, and Mackenzie.

“Oh, damn,” Ares barks out as Easton skates over to the boards to say hi to Lindy and the kids.

“Somebody wanna tell me why Kenzie Hayes is wearing Nixon’s jersey?”

“You didn’t,” Cross groans and shakes his head.

Leo laughs and looks at me. “Want me to protect you?”

“You can all fuck right off.” I ignore whatever else they’re saying as the most satisfying, possessive feeling I’ve had burns behind my ribs. Seeing this beautiful girl in my jersey, with my name stretched across the back, declaring her mine for the entire world to see . . . Yeah. That feeling isn’t going away any time soon.

I skate over to where Mac stands behind the half-wall and pull off my helmet. “Hey, baby.”

Her cheeks flame red as Everly fans herself, and fake whispers, “He called her baby.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Gracie groans, and she might be serious because she’s a little green. But she’s got a husband somewhere to worry about her, so for once, I’m worrying about my woman and me.

Like a goddamn magnet, I lean in, drawn to Mac, and claim her lips, dying to do more but knowing I can’t. Not here. Not yet. “You came.”

She smiles and tugs at the jersey. “I had some new clothes I wanted to wear. What do you think? It’s not my last name, but it’s not too shabby, right?” She teases me, and my blood roars in my ears.

Not her last name . . . yeah. We can change that.

The buzzer rings, signaling the end of warm-up. “You look fucking hot, baby. I want you in this and absolutely nothing else when I get home tonight.”

Her beautiful face softens, and she touches my cheek. “Pretty sure I can make that happen. Now go win me a game, Sinclair.”

I watch her walk away with the girls and stare until Easton pushes me ahead of him. “We’re gonna fucking talk about this tomorrow.”

“Whatever you say, man.” I skate away, knowing I got the girl. Now I gotta win the game. Shouldn’t be too hard.

Turns out, it wasn’t that hard.

Chicago has been turning over the puck all night. Easy pickings. Like right now. Their center just cleared the puck, and the dumb fuck is taking it right up the middle.

Like I said. Easy pickings.

Cross slams into him, and the puck goes wide.

Ares takes control and passes to Leo. Leo dodges Hendrix and crosses it to me.

Yeah . . . Sorry, baby brother.

I circle the net, looking for my shot. And, oh yeah. There it is.

Upper right-hand corner. Fucking beautiful.

My team swarms, congratulating me on the goal and celebrating the lead that just closed out the game, 4–2. The Revolution wins. The stands are going wild as everyone tosses hats onto the ice. I look up into the stands, searching for the box Mac is watching in, and there she fucking is—my girl, in my jersey, with my family, screaming her lungs out.

Mine.

Fuck the rest of the world.

Fuck what they think or expect.

This is it.

This is what I want.

Her. This team. This town. This family. But it all starts and stops with her, and it’s about time she hears it.

We line up to shake the other team’s hand, and I take an extra second to smack Hendrix’s helmet. “Good game, little brother.”

“Nice hat trick, Nix. You showing off for your girl?”

“You’re fucking right I am. You flying home tonight?”

Cross smacks the top of Hen’s helmet too, then ushers me along. “Let’s go, Sinclair.”

“Go,” Hendrix says. “We’re flying out tonight. I’ll see you at Christmas.”

“See ya, Hen,” I tell him before turning to leave.

“Hey, Nix,” he calls out. “You’re girl’s a fucking smoke show. You outkicked your coverage, man.” He skates off before I can kick his ass, and I laugh. Always the little shit-stirrer. Not wrong though. Mackenzie Hayes is out of my league.

She’s her own league.

“Thought it was fake,” Easton growls again as we skate off the ice together.

“I’m not doing this here, man,” I tell him, not willing to have this fight tonight.

Tonight, I want to go home and show my girl how much it meant to have her here and why it’s better to live in the moment than in fear of the other shoe dropping.

Kenzie

Hey. I left with Gracie and Everly. Gracie wasn’t feeling good.

That was a great game, Nix. You were so fucking hot.

If a hat trick is when you score three times, what do they call it when you score four times? Because you’re absolutely scoring tonight.

Come over when you get home. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.

And don’t yell at me. I’ll grab Gordie from your place. He can be my guard dog.

Maybe he could snore the would-be intruder to death.

When you said nothing but your jersey? Did you mean no panties?

I fucking love this girl.

I rush through showering and the post-game interviews as much as I can.

It’s easy to ignore the ribbing from the guys in the locker room. Easton keeps his distance, but he’s going to have to get the hell over whatever his problem is with Mac and me. I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow.

The questions from reporters and paparazzi didn’t catch me completely off guard. Apparently, we’re high-profile. They all seem to be running with the whole team captain’s little sister line, based on what they were asking.

I really don’t care what they say. I just want to get home to Mac.

When Coach pulls me into his office as I’m walking out, I’m a little surprised. “Everything okay, Coach?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you, Nix.” He sits down behind his desk, and I start to sweat what he might be talking about.

“Not sure what you’re talking about. I’m good. That was a hell of a game,” I assure him, wondering if he got word of the trade talk.

“It was. Nice hat trick. Listen, I know we have a relationship outside this office, but when we’re inside this building, I’m your coach. And as your coach, I’ve got to say this. Keep your personal shit out of this locker room and off my ice. Got it?”

Oh. That.

“Got it,” I snap, irritated at the idea that Easton’s gonna be so pissed that Coach feels the need to preemptively address it.

“Listen, I’m not trying to be a dick, I just don’t want your personal life to affect our season,” he explains, and now I get pissed. What the fuck?

“Coach, are you telling me not to see Mackenzie Hayes?” I ask, really hoping I’m reading this whole fucking thing wrong.

“And if I was, would you stop?” Coach volleys back at me.

“Fuck no,” I tell him without hesitation. “Not a chance.”

“Good answer, Nix. Kenzie deserves that. That’s what I think as your friend and hers. As your coach, I’m warning you, do not let this shit go sideways with my goddamn goalie. Got it?” He stands and waits for me to do the same.

“Yeah, Coach. I got it.” I rise from the chair and shake his hand, knowing Easton’s going to give me shit.

Guess I’m going to have to meet him before practice tomorrow to get this out of the way somewhere other than the locker room.

“Good. Now get the fuck out of here before my wife calls me and asks me how you guys looked together. Do you have any clue how much the girls talk? It’s crazy. They’re like a hive mind. If one of them knows something, they all do. How the hell did you manage to keep this thing under wraps for so long?”

I shrug. “You’ve gotta ask Mac. It’s what she wanted, so it’s what I did.”

Coach shakes his head. “Get out of here before the paparazzi storm the gates, trying to get another picture. You know the one of the two of you before the game has already gone viral. Brynn sent me a TikTok of those romance book girls already using it in a video. It’s gotten a million views since pregame.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

“Rest tonight, Sinclair. We’re on a plane tomorrow for Ontario,” he adds, clearly dismissing me.

Thirty minutes later, I’m pulling into our parking garage.

It seems like everyone else wants to know how I feel about Mackenzie Hayes.

It’s about time she knows.