Page 132 of Becoming Selfish

Leaning over, I wrap my arms around my needy boy’s neck, looking him in the eyes.

“I need you too, baby,” I begin, reassuring him. “And I love when you’re all soft and sweet like this, but I’m going to need you to flip the switch and turn into hard ass Eli now. You have a game you need to go out and win.”

The wicked smirk begins to form on Eli’s lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

I press my mouth to his, exploring him, needing him. He cups the sides of my face with his large, strong hands as his full and pouty lips find mine.

Needing to get to the rink, he stands from my bed, kissing my forehead as he does.

I slap his ass when he turns to leave. “Now go kick some ass, thirteen!” I yell with enthusiasm.

His head falls back, and his deep chuckle radiates throughout my room as he makes his way to my door.

“I lo—” he begins. “Later. I’ll see you later,” he says, correcting himself as he hurries out the door.

“Look at you!” Marc says, impressed, as I walk up to him in front of the hockey arena.

I give him a little twirl, showing off my team-spirited outfit. I wasn’t sure how to make this jersey look good since it’s about double my size in order to fit over Eli’s pads when he plays, but I don’t care. I might be drowning in this right now, but I love it. I’m wearing a black hoodie with black leggings and my black Adidas on my feet. I slipped the hood through his jersey, and added my new beanie on top with my curled hair draping down around my shoulders.

“Doesn’t she look great?” Ali asks in encouragement as she walks up behind me. She looks great too, wearing a Golden Gophers’ tee under her black leather jacket with a pair of sleek blue jeans and her signature Doc Martens. She might not like sports, but she’s still down to support Marc’s brother and my boyfriend.

The arena is packed, unsurprisingly so, but Eli already has his allocation of seats for players’ families reserved for us since it’s the first game of the regular season, so we didn’t have to worry about getting there early this time. The teams are already both on the ice, warming up when we walk in.

Once again, the stadium is full of maroons and golds, but there are quite a few more spots of green from the Michigan State fans than I expected.

We dip through the crowd as I follow closely behind Ali, who is trailing Marc. He takes us all the way down to the acrylic glass encasing the rink on Minnesota’s side of the ice. Eli’s family seats must be in a prime location if we are going all the way down to ice-level. I keep my head down, bobbing and weaving through the crowd as I walk behind my friends.

Suddenly a loud bang shakes me and I snap my head up, startled. Eli’s smug little smirk is waiting on the other side of the barrier that he just purposefully smacked into to scare me.

“Hi, babe!” he yells, projecting through the glass. “You look hot!”

Eli looks just as hot wearing the same jersey as me, except he’s in the home version in yellow, and it’s filled out with his pads. His eyes are bright but calm as he holds his gaze with mine.

“You scared the shit out of me!” I tell him with a smile, holding my hand across my chest.

“Hey, Logan!” Cam says with excitement, skating up behind Eli, wearing the assistant captain’s ‘A’ patch on his left shoulder.

“Logan!” Goody calls out, dragging out my name as he barrels into both Cam and Eli, not slowing down. He throws an arm over both his teammates’ shoulders as he gives me a kind grin through the glass. “Oh! You’re wearing the girlfriend jersey,” he adds in a knowing tone, giving his captain shit.

“Get outta here,” Eli tells him with amusement as he playfully throws Goody’s arm off of his shoulder.

“Oh, Logan. Baby,” Goody says to Cam in a mocking voice. He grabs Cam on either side of his helmet as he begins to pull him closer. Cam catches on, realizing that Goody is pretending to be Eli and me as he puts his hands on either side of Goody’s face looking like they’re pulling each other in for a kiss.

“Go fucking warm up.” Eli pushes them both towards the rest of the team. He’s trying to hold back his amusement, but the corners of his lips are turning up from his buddies giving him a hard time about me.

“I’m gonna score a goal for you,” Eli says as he returns his attention to me through the glass.

“How many?” I smugly ask.

“How many you want?” He raises an eyebrow, surprised.

Instead of words, I hold up two fingers. Eli could honestly ride the bench all day, not playing a single minute, and I’ll be just as excited to be here and support him; I really don’t care if he scores, but this is a fun little game to play with him.

Eli’s cocky smirk makes its timely appearance. He can be a conceited little punk sometimes, which, to be honest, I love, especially when it comes to hockey. He is so good, and sometimes he doubts his abilities, so when he gets cocky about his talent, it just reminds me that he knows how great he truly is.

“I’ll get you three,” he arrogantly says with a devilish little grin.

Eli looks at me, his expression changing to soft and sweet, as he puts his gloved hand up on the glass as if he wished he could touch me through it. I quickly return the gesture, holding my hand up on the other side of the barrier, before he turns and skates to join the rest of his team in warm-ups, gliding smoothly along the ice.

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