Page 83 of Hate to Love You

And I’ll be damned if I let her slip through my fingers.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Brody

I slam into a forward, stealing the puck and racing toward the net. My skates dig into the ice as I cross the blue line, moving the puck seamlessly between the blade of my stick. The two defensemen I’m scrimmaging against come at me, trying to block my path. I drop my shoulder, hitting one and deking out the other. Once I’m in front of the net, I wind up and take a shot, aiming for the top left corner. Jack, our goalie, slides and catches the rubber disc in his glove before falling to his knees.

I circle back around as he says with a smirk, “Just an FYI—my grandma takes harder shots than that.” There’s a pause. “And she’s dead.”

I grin and skate back down to my side of the ice.

Maybe I didn’t make the shot but I feel like I’m on top of the fucking world.

I’d be lying if I said my life hasn’t been good up until this point. It has. Sure, I’ve had some shit times. Who hasn’t? The loss of my mother blew my world apart. Nothing was ever the same after that. And most of the time, school sucked major ass. Even after being diagnosed with dyslexia, it didn’t get any easier. I worked with tutors and special education teachers, but for the most part, I had to figure it out for myself. There wasn’t a magic pill that fixed it.

Hockey has always been there to balance out the bad shit. When my mom died, I spent hours on the ice or in the driveway hitting pucks at the net. When there were issues at school, I could lose myself in practice. I took my aggression out on the teams we played against. I worked myself over until I fell into bed at the end of each day too exhausted to think about any of the problems that threatened to swallow me whole.

And the girls…there has never been a shortage of them. If anything, they came too easily. There was no challenge to it. If I wanted pussy, all I had to do was crook my finger. It was mine for the taking.

The best day of my life was when I signed a contract with the Milwaukee Mavericks. I don’t think my father has ever been prouder of me. The only tinge of sadness had been that my mom hadn’t lived long enough to see me make it to the pros.

The two years I spent playing juniors were fucking fantastic. I worked my ass off on the ice and played harder off it. With no school to worry about, I could pour all of my energies into elevating my game to the next level.

Playing at Whitmore for Coach Lang has been the icing on the cake. I’ve made friendships that will last for the rest of my life. My teammates are like family. No matter where we end up, they will always be my brothers. Come spring, I’ll have fulfilled the promise I made to Mom and will graduate from college with a degree before heading to the NHL.

So, yeah, my life has been good.

All right…Better than good.

It’s been fucking amazing.

I’m living the dream.

And this is only the beginning.

That being said, who would have ever guessed that something was missing?

Certainly not me.

But it was.

Until Natalie came into my life, I wouldn’t have realized it either. Somehow, she makes everything better. She’s the first girl who has ever meant something to me.

The fact that I could lose her—lose this feeling—scares the shit out of me. Now the challenge is to convince Natalie that what we have is real. That I’m worth taking a chance on. I’ve got some time to figure it out. But not much. Possessiveness rushes through me. I need to lock that girl down. I want to know Natalie is mine. Then I’ll be able to relax and enjoy the season when it starts in a few weeks.

I’m jarred out of my thoughts when someone rams into my shoulder, knocking me off balance. I don’t fall, but it’s damn close.

First rule of hockey—don’t skate with your head down. You’re just asking to get knocked on your ass. And if I didn’t weigh two hundred and twenty pounds, that’s exactly where I would have ended up.

“Watch where you’re going, McKinnon.”

I snap to, my eyes narrowing on Reed fucking Collins, who has skidded to a halt a few feet from me.

My jaw locks. It’s a natural reaction. I can’t stand the guy.

He’s been a royal pain in my ass since day one, and it’s never gotten better. At first, I thought it would eventually smooth itself out and that it would take some time to find common ground between us. But it’s been three years and that has yet to happen. I’m sure Coach naming me Captain last year only intensified the animosity he feels toward me.

Well, tough shit. Find a way to man up and deal with it.

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