Forbidden Puckboy (Puckboys Book 7) by Eden Finley & Saxon James

Author:Eden Finley & Saxon James [Finley, Eden & James, Saxon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sadenverse Books
Published: 2024-09-19T00:00:00+00:00

The second Connor and I walk into the practice facilities, we’re approached by the PR team.

“Three point two seconds has to be some kind of record to be sent for PR training,” I say to Connor.

He smirks. “I wouldn’t know. I’m the good boy.”

“Who got a major penalty last season for fighting?”

“That’s hockey. It’s part of the job.”

“You beat the shit out of Cody Bilson. That’s not the job.”

“It’s totally the job,” he mutters.

Finally, the PR team steps in. William Moyer, our PR manager, and Craig Sharp, our press rep, look like we’re a lost cause. Little do they know this is us actually getting along.

“Let me guess,” Connor says. “We need to do a press conference about the scuffle on the ice yesterday.”

“Press conference?” William scoffs. “We’re not going to give you that kind of freedom. You’re going to draft a press release. Together. Craig will oversee you until it’s done.”

“Uh, don’t we have practice to get to?” I ask.

“Nope. You don’t get to go out on the ice until management is satisfied you won’t fight again in front of the press.”

Fucking hell. More being treated like a child.

I really need off this team. “Can I ask something? If it had been any other teammates who got into a fight during training camp, would they have to go through this shi⁠—”

Reflexively, Connor covers my swear words. “Stuff. He means stuff.”

I cock my eyebrow at him, and he slumps.

“He was going to say shit, and I shouldn’t have butted in like that to save him from being disrespectful.”

“Thank you.” I turn back to the PR team. “But my question still stands.”

They’re silent for a moment too long before William says, “Hypotheticals are a waste of time. It’s not two other players, it’s you two. Now, follow us, please.”

We walk behind them, being escorted to who knows where, and as we fall into step side by side, I speak low to my brother. “Way to say ‘We’re milking this Kiki brother thing harder than we should.’”

Connor sighs. “They should though. Everyone loves the idea of brothers playing on the same team for whatever reason.”

“Just wait until this season when they’ll be screaming for us to go head-to-head.”

“So that’s still happening, then?” Connor asks before we’re deposited into a small conference room inside the offices of the facilities.

I don’t get a chance to answer him.

“Okay, we want statements of heartfelt remorse for our actions, lots of brotherly love, and a scapegoat for why you got in a fight.”

I groan. “I let a rookie score while on a penalty kill. What’s so wrong with using that?”

“Because if you get so upset over something as small as that, I have to question how you don’t spend every game in the sin bin. Whatever it is, make it good. It doesn’t even have to be true. Just relatable. Something that won’t blow back on us, on the team, or on any of our public images.”

He’s starting to sound like Connor.

“We could tell them the truth,” Connor says.

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