She didn’t even answer Brie, just went back to work as Brie stewed in her anger. The last thing she wanted to do was go anywhere near him. And playing hockey with that monster man, he would be bound to touch her. She couldn’t handle that. He put his hands on her, and she turned stupid. Got distracted by his words, his amazing hands, his gorgeous and sinful lips, and all of a sudden, she was in the shower crying. It wasn’t freaking fair. It was just that she felt this pull between them. This strong, magnetic pull and it all was all a lie.

How was she supposed to get over all that when this job of hers had her working side by side with him? It was like the forces beyond thought this was funny. How mad could they make Brie? How far could they push her until she lost her fucking mind?

Damn it.

A few minutes later, after getting her face fixed, she found herself behind the bench with Jensen leaning against it, a grin on his face. “You’re getting the start tonight, with Tate Odder being put on injured reserve. It’s looking as if you’ll start more than you assumed you would. How excited are you?”

Jensen nodded. “You know, no one wants to see a teammate hurt. I care for Odder, for his family. I don’t like the circumstance that brought me this start, but that doesn’t mean I’m not ready to bring home the W. I love playing, I love being between the pipes, and I’m ready to do Odder proud.”

“We’re ready to watch,” she said with a dazzling smile as she looked back to the camera. “The Stars are a tough offensive team. What are your plans to make sure they don’t get any through?”

“Well, I mean, I have the best defensemen in the league in front of me. They come out, put their hearts on the ice to protect me, and I’m lucky for that. What they can’t block, I pray I’ve got eyes on and I can do my job.”

“Thank you, Jensen.”

“Thanks, Brie.”

He skated off, and she looked at the camera, her brilliant smile in place as she said, “Stay tuned because I’ll be back with Vaughn Johansson with a special announcement. Now back to Mike and Sully.”

As she dropped the mic, her grin dropped too. Fuck the special announcement, double fuck Vaughn. But even as she walked out from behind the bench, her eyes were drawn to his as he did his rounds on the ice. He always went around four times, his hair blowing in the air, a certain smile on his face. The same smile he had when he came inside of her.

Great, now she was hot all over and thinking of him.

Fabulous.

As Brie sat in the tunnel, she kept her eyes on the game as it progressed. The first period was pretty uneventful, ending with a no goal score. After a quick and pointless interview with Coach, she found herself back in the tunnel, her eyes on the game again as her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t have her interview with Vaughn until the second intermission, which gave her time to prepare to be so near him. But even she couldn’t prepare for everything he made her feel.

Which was every single fucking feeling in the world.

Standing there, her mic in her hand, she watched as the Assassins carried it into the Stars’ zone. Franklin had the puck. He was playing with it on the power play as Reeves and Sinclair lined up to take the one timer. When he tried to pass it back, though, a Stars player blocked him and took off on the breakaway. But out of nowhere came Vaughn. He was skating with everything inside of him, and when he laid out, blocking the shot for Jensen, she couldn’t help it, she hollered out for him.

The crowd was going just as wild as some of the Stars’ fans called for a penalty. But it was a clean block, and the player should be lucky he didn’t get the call for embellishment with the way he threw his stick down over Vaughn. When he got back to his feet, the play was already up ice, but Vaughn and number nine were still at the end, talking back and forth.

“Fucking pussy,” the player called out.

“Aw, wanna go and cry to your momma that Vaughn Johansson blocked your shot? Fucking baby!”

As he skated toward the other end, Vaughn’s eyes met hers. Something came over his face before he took number nine’s stick with his own and slid it across the ice from him as he was trying to get it. Instantly, the ref’s arm shot up, and Vaughn threw his hands up. “It got in my way.”

“Player interference. Go to the box.”

“The stick got caught in mine!”

She couldn’t help it, she snickered as he continued to argue, skating toward the box as the coach tried to fight for Vaughn. But everyone knew he’d done it as an asshole move.

Now both teams were even, but only for twenty seconds before the other team got their fifth man back, and the time was gone before they knew it. With the Stars on the power play, Brie was practically biting her nails as she watched Jensen block shot after shot. Time ran out, quickly. Thankfully, no shots went through, but when the Stars shot just as time ran out, Jensen got the puck. He sent it hard up the middle where she thought no one was, but it went right onto Vaughn’s stick, giving him the breakaway of the century. Coming out of the tunnel, she practically climbed Jet, the trainer, to watch as Vaughn deked, pulling the goalie out before the puck went in with ease. With his beloved wrister.

The stadium lost it. It was so loud that Brie’s ears started to hurt, but then she realized they hurt because she was screaming so loud. As she closed her mouth, she slowly backed into the tunnel and shook her head.

She was supposed to hate that guy.

But she was having a hard time remembering that.

When the second period ended, the Assassins were up three-to-zero. Jensen was on fire, and the forwards were kicking some major ass. As Brie stood in the Assassins’ hallway where all the interviews were done, she bounced in her heels against the box she stood on, her heart still pounding hard. All she had to do was read the teleprompter. She didn’t even have to look at him. She had this. She did, but her little pep talk went to hell when he rounded the corner and met her gaze.

Of course, he looked hellishly sexy. He was all sweaty, red-faced, and had the marks where his helmet rested against his forehead. He was only wearing his tight shorts, no shirt, just a towel across his shoulders. His body was so hard and rippled with muscle, his arms so big and thick she wanted to hold on to them. She wanted to be wrapped up in them. Damn it, she missed him.

But he didn’t want you!

He didn’t want a relationship.