Page 4 of Hat Trick Heart

I roll my eyes and slam the rest of my stuff into my locker and stalk away. “That’s a god-damned understatement, man.”

I follow him into his little office and groan when I see that Vic is in there too.

Fucking great!

On any given day, coach was called Iceberg for a reason. He tends to keep calm no matter what.

Right now, he’s not that guy. I know he’s taking a lot of heat because we’re not where we need to be. The guys are all good but we’re not meshing as well as we could be. Should be.

Vic on the other hand is a bomb waiting to go off. And she’s got her sights set on me.

“What the hell’s been going on with you this week, LaCourt? Your head doesn’t seem to be in the game at all. We’ve got a packed season and it’s like you’re off in Lala land. Tell me why the hell I shouldn’t move one of the other guys up to first string and let you ride the bench for awhile,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, Coach. I’m not sure what’s wrong. But I’ll get my act together before the game tomorrow night.”

Friday night’s game is against the Kansas City Crusaders and we’re so far down in the standings that we’re guaranteed a loss. Unless we all start to work better as a team.

“You better or I’ll bench you so fast your fucking head will spin.” He sits back and crosses his arms on his chest. “You need to be better than this. I need a center who’s got his head on straight and can make the big moves that we need if we’re gonna pull our asses out of the hole we’ve managed to get into.”

I nod my head. “Yes, Coach. I understand.”

He stands up and Vic just watches us silently. I feel like she wants to say more but Coach is walking me out.

“I hope you do. We’ve got a lot riding on these games coming up. Something needs to click with this team.”

I walk out as quickly as I can. Hoping that I can get away without having to actually admit why my head’s a mess. Especially since I don’t really know why it is.

I just keep wondering about that girl. When I saw her she was smiling, her bright eyes glowing with happiness. Her friend was turned around and they were obviously laughing together about something.

As soon as her gaze crashed with mine, something electric zipped all the way down to my toes. It was like being hit with a lightning bolt and I almost turned around to look and see if it was storming but that would have been crazy in a closed building.

I strip off the rest of my clothes and throw them in to wash and hit the showers, groaning when the hot water hits my skin. Every damn part of me hurts today. I think a few of the guys might have decided to try to get my attention and straighten out my thoughts.

I soap up and immediately my mind starts picturing her again. She was wearing a T-shirt and jacket and a pair of slim jeans that showed off some of the most dangerous and fantastic curves I’ve ever seen in my life. My dick starts to hit half-mast and I groan, pushing away thoughts of her and running through drills in my head, picturing the offsides play that I had in the last game that ended up costing us in the end.

“Hey! You wanna go out to the Summit tonight? I hear there’s a good band playing and there’s bound to be a lot of girls in there. Maybe even some puck bunnies that would be willing to play around a bit!”

The younger player is on the fourth string, a right wing. Peter, I think.

I know I shouldn’t go out tonight. Practice was rough. I’m tired and it’s gonna be a rough match-up tomorrow. But I don’t want to go home to my big, empty house and stare at the walls and try not to get all fucked in the head thanks to a pair of icy blue eyes and curves for days.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

He fist pumps at me and grins. “Yeah, man. Time to have a little fun.”

He crashes back into the locker room hollering about the night and I sigh, leaning against the wall. I have a feeling I just made a huge mistake. I hope it doesn’t cost me the game tomorrow. I don’t want to get moved down to second string center. I know I’m getting a bit older but I’m not out of the mix yet. I’ve got a good five or more years left. As long as I don’t fuck things up.

I get dressed and grab my huge black SUV out of the players’ section of the lot. It doesn’t take long to reach the Summit and as soon as I step inside the door, I wish that I had stayed home. It’s packed and there seems like no room to sit. Bodies mill around and I bump into someone who turns to glare at me, their stare smoothing out when they see who I am.

The Colorado Frostwolves might not be the best team out there right now but they’re still the home team and we still command some respect everywhere we go.

“Hey man. Sorry about that. Didn’t see you there.” He nods his head at me and I try not to laugh. I’m six foot four and weigh 230 lbs. I’m not sure how the hell you don’t see me.

But I just nod at him and then grin when I see the guys at a couple of tables pushed together in the side of the bar.

I make my way over and sit down with a sigh, grunting and nodding at the guys here. It’s mostly the younger, third and fourth string guys. The newer ones on the team that haven’t put in their time yet. But I do see Snow Beast and Iceman. Iceman has been having a rough string lately and he barely talks to anybody.

Snow Beast is well-known for fighting and a bar seems like it might not be the best place for him. And I don’t think anybody’s gonna tell him that he shouldn’t be here.

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