Page 73 of His Big Bad Stick

“Abrielle!” Jess yells. “Oh no…”

I gasp for a breath and look back at Jess.

“No offense, but I hope that’s not from what you just ate,” she says. “Or else I’m in big trouble.”

“It wasn’t that,” I say. “I’ve been kind of fighting a bug.”

“A bug?”

“A stomach thing. This is like the third morning it’s happened. It only happens in the morning though. Maybe too much coffee? Or stress?”

“Or maybe you’re pregnant,” Jess says.

She starts to laugh.

I feel all the color drain from my face.

I refuse to believe that I can be pregnant.

Because if I am…

You and I both know who the last person I slept with is.

18

Colver

Coach Patty leans down to scream in my ear.

It’s the only way to communicate during a game when you have fifteen thousand people going nuts, wanting your team to win.

“You have to finish this out!” Coach Patty yells. “I can call a timeout if we need a play! Faust is gassed! Do not let the puck near him!”

He smacks my shoulder with his clipboard and climbs up on the bench, then starts to scream at one of the refs for a missed hooking call.

The fans start to boo.

The energy and tension in the game right now is addicting.

We’re playing Boston and these games are always brutal. It doesn’t matter the record on the season, when you play your rival, it’s a fucking war.

I get ready to jump on the ice.

Like a hungry lion locked in a cage, waiting to get out.

As soon as my skates touch the ice, I’m off like a rocket.

I skate to center ice and the first person I see gets a massive shoulder check.

I turn and poke my stick, hitting the puck away from one of their attackers.

Ben comes up and dumps the puck along the boards.

Rhett and Dax are skating in, leaving me to handle the middle by myself.

I’ve got two guys in my way.

We’re skating, throwing shoulders and comments, fighting for space.

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