Filed to story: Luci Forrester and Easton Reed: Hockey Romance Story
Luci tugged insistently on my hoodie, her eyes wide with pleading. “Please. He needs to think about Cole. You can keep him here. For Coconut.” Her tiny, earnest smile melted my resolve, and without a moment’s hesitation, I nodded.
“I can do that. Just give me the keys,” I replied, my tone firm yet gentle.
With a bright smile, she handed over the keys and enveloped me in a quick hug. I could feel Easton’s frustration radiating off him, and I couldn’t help but wonder which offense he was annoyed about-her hug or the keys she had just stolen.
“The storm is gone. I can head home,” she announced, her tone shifting as she moved closer to Easton. I watched as she reached out to touch his arm, a gesture that was both comforting and intimate. “Don’t be upset with me…or your brother. I didn’t tell you that so you could run off and attack someone. I told you because I trust you, and I wanted to answer your question. Think about Cole. He needs you here, not in jail for assault. I’m okay.”
“Luci,” Easton groaned, his exasperation clear.
“Promise me, Easton Reed,” she insisted stubbornly, her eyes locking onto his with a fierce determination.
“Fine. I promise to stay here,” he conceded begrudgingly, and she wrapped her arms around him in a brief yet meaningful hug.
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, turning to leave, but Easton’s voice stopped her.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he called out, a hint of playful accusation in his tone.
She turned, jerking her thumb over her shoulder with a smirk. “Grabbing my bags, then going home. My usual routine.”
His eyes narrowed, and I had to stifle another laugh. “My brother got a longer hug than I did, and you’re leaving?”
“Well, I didn’t have to work as hard to convince him,” she shot back, a playful grin on her face.
“Thanks, Luci, for putting me right in his line of fire,” I replied dryly, shaking my head.
“Her sassy ass attitude…you won’t get far if I have to chase you,” Easton muttered, half-jokingly.
“Game room, East,” I called over my shoulder as I unlocked his door and made my way across the hall to my own room. I needed to stash his keys alongside mine; he was crafty, always finding ways to get what he wanted. After that, I tapped on Becker’s door. He opened it, glancing around suspiciously.
“Cole slept through that?” he asked incredulously.
“You heard him too. Not sure how, but he did. Hide your keys. Luci made him promise not to leave and stole his,” I explained.
“Hell…wonder who lit the volcano. See you in a minute. I’ll tell Kingston,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.
Fifteen minutes later, the three of us watched as Easton strode in, grabbing his gloves with a determined look on his face. “I guess you’ll keep your promise and stay here,” I ventured, but he just shook his head.
“For tonight. And what happened to brotherly support? You folded and helped her almost instantly!”
I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “How do you tell her no? It’s like telling Cole he can’t have ice cream. You find yourself agreeing when she asks for something!” I defended my decision, feeling a rush of camaraderie.
He shook his head ruefully, muttering under his breath. “I know. I’ll be agreeing to s**t for the rest of my life and then convincing myself I have to tell her no. I have to be creative now to tell her, but I’d beat your ass if you did that.”
“Rest of your life, huh, East?” Becker teased, his expression innocent.
Without missing a beat, Easton shot him a look that mirrored his own. “Aren’t you the three that voted to keep her?”
“What happened?” Kingston asked, his fists flying as he attacked the punching bag.
“Marshall f*****g Soames played her three years ago. And Brooklyn Humphries tried to kill her but died after crashing into her car and then a huge tree on campus,” Easton revealed, his voice heavy with anger.
I blinked twice, trying to process the gravity of his words. “Okay, let’s pretend we’re completely in the dark here, East, and you start talking from the beginning.”
By the time he finished recounting the events, my head was spinning, and I felt an overwhelming urge to take my hockey stick to both coaches involved in this mess.
“Grown-ass adults decided to cover this up and use her as a source for their screwed-up grief over Brooklyn being dead. Their guilt that they spoiled her so much she couldn’t begin to emotionally deal with being used and not being the true center of attention from a dickhead who honestly deserves no one’s attention. She never was able to handle any kind of refusal. A truly spoiled princess with no emotional regulation,” Kingston interjected.
“Nice Dr. Freud. But yeah, you’re right. They turned her into what she was,” I agreed, the weight of the situation settling heavily on my shoulders.
“Luci said she had a mental breakdown and was under psych care, but you can guarantee they wouldn’t tarnish her reputation with an inpatient stay. If attempted murder was not allowed to harm her memory, how dare you get her real help?” Easton’s voice dripped with venom, his anger palpable.
“Luci is right though, Easton. You can’t go off and attack any of them. They would press charges, and you do have to worry about Cole. Custody of him…” Becker warned darkly.
“Then I just let them get away with this?!” Easton exclaimed, his frustration boiling over as he stopped hitting the bag to shake his head.
“No, but we need to plan this out. Personally, I think you get to beat Soames to a pulp legally. And break his f*****g hands and right arm. In multiple places to ruin the playoffs and hopefully next year’s season for his ass. He seems the type to come after Luci again if Julian revealed he knows,” Becker pointed out, his tone serious.
“I’m not using her as f*****g bait!” Easton coldly refused, his resolve unyielding.
“No, you won’t. He’ll be enraged she moved on with you though. And as for Humphries one and two…this is coming up,” Kingston said, turning his tablet around for us to see. We all exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. “Public humiliation. We need the flash drive. That will take care of Soames. As for our esteemed coach, Humphries…I vote we get Dad involved.”
“I don’t think he’ll help her. He’s been staring at her too much and not in a won-over fashion,” I pointed out, and Easton nodded in agreement.
“Mother dearest…” Becker sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “We win him over later. Start with the two biggest assholes. We need Julian.”