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Puck me where it hurts Novel Cover

Puck me where it hurts

Callie never went looking for trouble, but one reckless night with a stranger leaves her marked in ways she can’t explain—and haunted by a night she can’t forget. When he resurfaces, he’s the last person she should want: older, off-limits, and dangerous in peak moments. Every game they share feels like punishment, yet something wild and undeniable calls to her. Callie doesn’t believe in fate, and she definitely doesn’t believe in werewolves. But the burning mark on her skin says she belongs to him, pulling her into a passionate, forbidden werewolf romance where desire and destiny collide.
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Chapter 3

****Callie's POV****

If there's anything I've learned about being a top player, it's this-skill alone won't keep you on top.

I was at my peak, the top of my college team, but I was also a scholarship student... and I needed to stay afloat.

Maybe that meant crawling back to Nate-for now? Can't believe I even considered this...

Arielle and Gianna, would have my neck if they found out, but what choice did I really have?

I tied my shoelaces and walked out of the dorm, waving at a few colleagues, I noticed two girls right beside my locker, talking in what they felt were hushed tones but I could hear them clearly.

> "Is it true Callie and Nate broke up?"

"Definitely. Tomika said she saw Nate dumping her in public..."

"No way..."

> "I don't blame him though. Callie was never his perfect fit."

"Come on, didn't you once say they were your favorite player couple of all time?"

"Forgive my sweet mouth," she giggled.

I slammed my bag into my locker and yanked it open.

They scampered, finally noticing my presence.

I was so sick of their gossip.

So sick of being their favorite headline.

I stormed out of the locker room, ignoring their stares.

*****

"Out early?" Arielle beamed as she spotted me.

"Just needed some air before practice," I muttered.

She nodded, probably sensing my mood.

"Anyway," she said, leaning in with a grin. "Heard the new coach is coming in today."

"Finally," I sighed. "Hope he's decent."

Arielle chuckled. "Coaches are everything but nice."

"Right," I smirked. "Where's Gianna?"

Arielle shrugged. "She got an urgent class ans is stuck there right now."

"Oh...wanna grab lunch then? I'm starving."

She folded her arms and gave me a knowing look. "You stressed?"

I shrugged. "Why?"

"You only overeat when you are."

I forced a smile. "I don't know, Elle. Just... want to stuff my face right now."

She grabbed my arm. "Lunch is on me."

"Definitely."

"Hey! You tricked me!" she yelled as we walked off.

I laughed, and we both dissolved into giggles down the hallway.

*****

We were halfway through lunch when a girl burst into the dining hall, rushing to her friend's table.

> "Y'all-the new coach? He's HOT."

> "Wait, how hot?"

> "Over 2-0-1."

> "For real?"

They squealed and dashed off.

I looked at Arielle. She was already giggling.

I reached over and picked at her food.

"Hey!" she cried playfully. "That's mine!"

*****

My stomach ached from how much I'd eaten.

I was running late for practice, and Arielle had already left early to go catch a glimpse of the "hot coach."

My phone buzzed with a message from her:

"Okay. I'm siding with the girls. Code hot red."

I laughed, shaking my head.

By the time I got to the rink, it was packed.

Everyone had shown up. And definitely not for practice.

I scanned the crowd until I saw Arielle. She waved me over.

"You're late," she whispered.

"My stomach says hi."

She chuckled. "Look for him. Stretch your neck-you'll see."

"He better be worth it."

"Oh, he is," she said, placing a hand dramatically over her chest.

Minutes later, the coach finally emerged from the sea of students.

He had his back turned, but something about him...

That strange heat pulsed beneath my skin-right above my right breast.

The mark was burning again.

"You okay?" Arielle asked, noticing the change in my face.

"I-It's nothing," I whispered.

And then... he turned.

My heart leaped for what felt like... Joy?

Not from awe.

But because I knew him.

That face. That sleek jaw. Those eyes that beamed.

He was the man.

The stranger.

My mystery man.

I bolted upright.

"What is it?" Arielle tugged my sleeve, giggling. "That stunned, huh?"

I couldn't answer. I moved through the crowd, heart pounding, needing to be sure.

I stood in front now, watching him speak. His mouth moved, but I heard nothing.

It was like the world had muted.

He looked up. His eyes locked onto mine.

He froze.

I froze.

For a second, it felt like time had stopped for this moment.

He recognized me. I saw it.

But then... he looked away.

Just like that.

My knees buckled slightly.

He didn't acknowledge me.

Didn't say a word.

Did he really not remember me?

Arielle appeared beside me again, her voice low. "You're causing a stare. Let's get out of here."

But I couldn't move. Not yet.

*****

Hours later, after practice had ended, I stood outside the training hall.

Arielle had gone back to the dorm, but I stayed.

I needed to see him again.

To know I wasn't losing my mind.

The cold crept into my tank top as I sat on the bench, arms wrapped around my knees.

An hour passed.

The door flew open. Footsteps approached and I felt someone bend to my crouched level.

"Hey," a deep voice said. "You okay?"

I looked up.

It was him.

He paused when he recognized me. His entire body stilled.

"You..." I whispered.

He stood up quickly. "Are you alright?"

"You recognize me," I said quietly.

He blinked.

"No. I don't."

The words stung more than I expected.

I smirked bitterly. "You're a terrible liar."

He stayed calm.

"I believe you're my student. I'm your coach. I don't think we've met outside of this rink."

My chest burned. So that was his story.

Pretend. Deny. Bury it.

He pulled off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

"You'll catch a cold, you shouldn't be out here in the open." He smiled. "Excuse me."

And just like before...

He walked away.

Leaving me in the silence.

More confused-and more consumed-than ever.

I would say this was fate-if I actually believed in stuff like that.

But here he was.

My mystery man.

Real. And standing right here in my college.

And more?

He was my coach.

My heart leapt into my throat.

The mark tingled.

I looked down.

His jacket was still on me.

I raised it to my face and breathed in deeply.

That scent.

I knew it. Knew it anywhere.

No matter how hard he tried to act like nothing happened-

No matter how cold he pretended to be-

He remembered me. I was sure of it.

Maybe he was embarrassed.

Maybe he regretted it.

Maybe it scared him to know his one-night stand turned out to be a student.

I should be scared, too. Ashamed, even.

But I wasn't.

I wanted him. Again.

And I wasn't going to stop until I had him.

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