Page 36 of Pucking Revenge

Nothing he can say will draw me out of my net. He knows it too, so for the most part, he leaves his jabs for after the game. As if dealing with his dirty plays on the ice isn’t enough, Coach forces us all to meet up for a late dinner or a drink when the game’s over. For years I’ve done my best to be kind, to bite my tongue when he mutters insults out of Seb’s earshot. He wouldn’t dare be a blatant asshole in front of our uncle. He wouldn’t want him to know what a huge disappointment he is. But if Seb steps away to use the bathroom or to order another round, it’s guaranteed his true colors shine.

He’s a winger, an instigator like War, but not nearly as good on the ice, and he’s far more volatile.

The moment the puck drops, I clutch my stick and zero in on the game. War gets control almost immediately and rushes forward, darting past New York’s center and right winger. Vin is right on his heels, slicing with his stick at the back of War’s skates.

“Where’s the fucking penalty?” I groan as he knicks him.

War shoots him a warning look, his gaze sharp, but Vin has never been good at heeding sense. He slices at War again, and this time he makes contact with the back of his skate, and War goes down.

The penalty is called, but it’s too late. War is already up, tossing his stick and gloves, fists up and ready for the fight. Thirty seconds in, and Vin’s already up to his dirty tricks. This is gonna be a long night.

The period ends zero-zero and our guys are dragging. I skate off the ice and when I get to the tunnel, tugging at my helmet, Sara is already holding a bottle of water out to me.

“Thanks.” With a long breath out, I tip my head back, then I pour the water down my throat. Next, she comes at me with a towel, like she’s going to swipe at the sweat on my face and neck. It may be cold in the arena, but between the compression shorts and shirt, my gear, and all the hustling I do, I burn up during the games. Before she can get close, I duck out of the way and reach for the towel.I have no doubt that I stink already, and I don’t need her anywhere near me in this state.

She dodges me and pulls the towel into her chest. “All the guys smell horrific, but not you. You always smell clean. How is that possible?”

I frown at her, but when she pushes closer, I don’t shy away this time. With a sweet smile, she wipes at my face. It’s weird being cared for, being touched so openly, but I don’t exactly hate it. In fact, I might like it too much.

When she’s finished, she pulls back, assesses me, then angles in again and presses her lips to my cheek. “There, now you’re perfect.”

This time when she backs up, I hover where I am and stare at her like an idiot. She only smiles back, looking all sorts of pretty, with a big smile on those pink lips. Each time she inhales, my jersey tightens slightly over her breasts, killing a few more of my brain cells.

The guys are all shuffling past us, heading toward the locker room. Despite the way it felt as if time has been standing still, it’s been mere seconds, and I’m already wishing I could stay with her rather than head to the locker room with everyone else.

“There’s a reason puck bunnies aren’t allowed back here, Ms. Case,” Coach says.

Those words—puck bunnies—shake me from my impure thoughts and instantly send me into a rage. Hands gripping my stick in front of me, I glare at him. “What did you just say?”

His smug smile doesn’t falter. He can’t even imagine a world where I’d stand up to him. “You heard me. If she’s going to act like your girlfriend, then she should be sitting with the WAGs.” He points back toward the arena.

With smoke billowing out of my ears, I stalk toward him, all sense gone.

Most of the guys have disappeared to the locker room, but the ones who are still here go silent, though the arena is still buzzing.

“The only reason you’re not on the ground right now begging me for mercy is because I care about Aunt Zoe,” I grit out. “But this is your one and only warning. Keep my girlfriend’s name out of your mouth, or you’ll be missing teeth the next time you open it.”

I shove past him, knocking him into the cement wall with my shoulder. Whatever he hoped to accomplish with that little comment has surely backfired, because now the whole team knows we have a problem. And when it comes down to it, my fucking last name will always be synonymous with this team, whereas his could easily be erased.

The assistant coaches, including Fitz, the goaltending coach, are all gaping. But not one of them says a thing.

I stalk past War and head to the locker room, knowing I need to get my temper under control. Adrenaline may have me ready to fight, but I need to save it for the ice.

War rushes to catch up to me and grabs my shoulder. “You and I are going out after the game, and you’re gonna tell me what the fuck is going on with you and Coach.”

I suck in a deep breath and shake my head. “Forget it.”

“The whole team is watching. McGreevey may be the captain, but that’s only because you can’t be. We all know you’re our leader. And if there’s trouble between you and coach, you need to fucking figure it out. The guys are only going to follow one of you.”

“They should follow him,” I grunt. “He’s the coach.” I glance back in the direction of the rink, where Seb is having a heated discussion with Fitz. People are already starting to talk. To worry. The plan is working. “For now, at least,” I mutter under my breath.

We win the game two-one, and War practically drags me out of the locker room with threats that he’ll talk to Gavin if I don’t tell him what the hell is going on. Fortunately, when we step out into the hallway, Sara is waiting, ready to lead me to the press. I’ve never been so excited to answer rapid-fire questions in my life.

I grin at War and slap his shoulder. “We’ll catch up later.” With that, I’m striding toward Sara.

“Sar,” he hollers. “Drag him out when he’s done.”

With a laugh at my best friend, I drop my head, but I don’t slow.

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