Page 11 of Mine to Take

Motherfucker.

The girl wearing his jersey leaps to her feet and claps. Happiness radiates from her in intoxicating waves. It infuriates me that she’s cheering for the one guy I can’t fucking stand.

When her gaze flicks to mine again, her eyes widen.

A shoulder bumps mine, and I reluctantly break eye contact only to find Ryder McAdams frowning at me.

“You okay, man? It’s not like you to let Thompson fake you out like that.”

Fuck.

He’s right.

I’m distracted when I should be laser focused on getting my job done, and that’s never happened before.

Hockey has been my number one priority since I was old enough to lace up my own Bauers. I’m so damn close to making all my dreams come true. After this season wraps up, I just have to make it through senior year and then I’ll be free to sign my contract with Boston. Hell, if I could convince my parents to let me do it early, I’d quit school in a heartbeat and head straight to the NHL.

Although, I won’t hold my breath for that.

Every time I mention the possibility, they shoot it down, refusing to discuss the situation. I’m not sure why it’s so damn important I earn a degree. After I’m done playing hockey, I’ll end up working for my father’s sports agency.

I blink back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

It’s carefully that he searches my eyes.

Apparently satisfied with what he finds, he claps me on the shoulder. “Good. Let’s shut these guys down. If we don’t, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

With a nod, we take our positions at the blue line as Hayes gets ready for the faceoff. As soon as the puck gets dropped, Hayes knocks it to Colby McNichols, who races up the ice before passing it to Ford Hamilton. It goes back and forth as defensemen swarm. At every turn, the Rattlers attempt to regain possession before Ford scores through the five hole. In true Ford fashion, he grins at the stands, and I know he’s looking straight at his girlfriend.

The game is now tied with less than two minutes on the clock.

The energy in the arena turns frenetic. Under normal circumstances, I’m able to block out the screaming fans and focus solely on the job that needs to get done.

That’s not the case this evening.

And it has everything to do with the hot little blonde.

It’s impossible to shake the heat of her gaze as I skate across the ice.

This time, when the puck is dropped, Hayes loses the faceoff. The Rattler’s right wing scoops it up and takes off. From the corner of my eye, I keep an eye on River. I know his teammate will pass to him, and I’ll be damned if I allow him to score for a second time.

I skate closer, making sure to keep him in my periphery. I’m not giving him one damn inch. The wing with the puck glances at their center, as if he’ll pass to him. Just as I back off, he flicks his wrist in the other direction.

To River.

I swear under my breath, realizing that he managed to get away from me while I was focused on the other player.

My blades dig into the ice as I take off, attempting to catch him, but it’s too damn late. I’m not even close enough for a back check.

He swoops in front of the net before Ryder can get there and scores another goal.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

The horn blasts throughout the arena before echoing in my ears. River grins around his mouthguard as he points to the girl in the stands.

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