Page 35 of Puck Shy

“I honestly didn’t mean to piss you off that bad, Cap,” Jason says again.

I look at the regretful face of my teammate and try to relax. I know he was teasing. And I know the team loves Stevie, too. So much so that I find myself getting jealous every time she hugs one of them or one of them makes her laugh or they sit too close to her…or when any of them basically do anything that makes me wish I was them.

Johnny especially pisses me off. He’s the one who started calling her Lucky and deemed her the team’s unofficial good luck charm. It’s not lost on me that he’s trying to push us together, but all that did was push me further away from her. I never want Stevie to feel like she’s here for that, to feel like I hired her so I could win games. She’s told me she’s fine with the name and the team’s antics, but I refuse to be a part of it.

I sit to put my skates on and try to ignore the eyes of my team on me. Johnny and Jason have recruited them all to be on Team Stevas, which is a dumb fucking name. I sigh, lacing up my left skate and attempting to Zen myself out. I’ve already meditated, but I should do it again so I don’t kill someone on the ice.

“Sorry, Cap,” Jason mumbles again before walking off to put his gear on. Johnny takes his usual place next to me and lets out a breath.

“You okay, Luke?”

I continue to lace up my skates, not looking at him. “Perfectly fine.”

He nudges my shoulder. “We just want what’s best for you.”

“We have a game to play. That should be our focus.”

“Stevie affects your game.”

I grumble. “Quit with it already. I’m responsible for my own game.”

“So you keep saying. But you can’t deny you like her here. That you like seeing her in the stands. I see you look for her every time.”

I stand. “We all like having Stevie here.”

He rubs the stubble on his square jaw then gets up, flipping some of his blond hair from his forehead. “We see the way you two dance around each other. And the last thing we want is for her being here to start having a negative effect on your game. Then we’d have to trade you,” he jokes. “Just talk to her.”

“Johnny,” I chide. “She doesn’t affect my game.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Well, if you won’t go after her, do you mind if I shoot my shot?”

My entire body tenses. I know Johnny has a crush on her, but most of the team does. I thought it was innocent—maybe I’m wrong.

“Are you trying to make us lose tonight, Johnny boy?” our goalie, Mason, says to our left.

Johnny smirks. A smirk that spells trouble. “No. Just trying to get our Cap’s head out of his ass.”

I square my shoulders and stare Johnny straight in the eye. “My head is out of my ass, Rookie. But I’ll gladly put my skate in yours if you want it.”

The guys ooh, and I think Jason says, “Oh, snap!”

I force a smile to my face and hit Johnny on the shoulder harder than necessary. “Let’s win this game.”

My defenseman has a death wish.

Fucking. Johnny.

I almost boarded my asshole “friend” while an arena of hockey fans watched. I would’ve done it, too, if I didn’t have common sense.

I clench my jaw and try to quell some of my anger. When he was talking to Stevie yesterday during practice, I assumed it was harmless. They talk often, just like she does with many of the team, but if I had looked closer, I would have seen the asshole betraying me.

When I came out on the ice to see her in his jersey, I almost asked an assistant coach to bring her a new one. But judging by the look on Johnny’s face, I have a feeling my entire goddamn team is in on this stunt. Bunch of fucking traitors. We’re going to have words after this for being so disrespectful. I know they think they’re doing me a favor, some backwards way of getting me to act on my feelings for Stevie, but this game has been anything but easy.

My anger has almost sent me to the penalty box, and we’re tied again at three-three with ten seconds left in the game. My eyes find Stevie as I skate for a face-off with Vancouver’s center, Connor Bryce, in the offensive zone. She’s smiling and cheering with her phone out, completely oblivious to the war raging inside me.

For a split second, her eyes meet mine, and she waves. I don’t know if she can see how angry my face looks from where she is, but she sure as hell has seen how I’ve been playing. I’ve been trying to keep my eyes off her so I’m not reminded that she’s wearing Johnny’s number, but after playing so many games with her here, my eyes automatically seek her out.

Johnny skates by and winks at me before positioning himself on the blue line. I really need to put this rookie in his place so that I don’t end up in jail for murder. Ways in which I can screw with him start filtering through my brain, but none of them seem like the right punishment.

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