Pucking Forbidden Claim
“If I lose, I don’t argue, I don’t push, I don’t fight you. I let you do whatever you want to me.”
My stomach clenches, a rush of something dark and eager surging through me, but I keep my smirk in place, nodding once like it’s a fair trade. Because it is.
“You’re on, Mercer,” I murmur, dropping the puck between us.
Game fucking on.
I keep the game fast, testing him, pushing him, making sure he earns every goal he gets.
And for a while, he’s keeping up.
Despite the hit to the head, despite the bruised ribs, despite everything, Mercer still plays like his life depends on it. His body moves on instinct, his stick handling is still fucking elite, and he’s playing like he actually believes he ca