Page 93 of The Love You Win

I cover my face and sink as low in my seat as I can manage. If the surrounding fans hated me before, it’s nothing compared to the boos hurled my way when the announcer calls out the penalty.

Sure, I’m not to blame for being targeted with verbal abuse by drunk strangers, but I still can’t help feeling like all of this is my fault. And when the Rogues lose after a brutal game, the fans around me have no problem telling me they feel the same.

My first time at a game, and already I’m bringing Maddox down.

forty-three

MADDOX

“What in the hell happened out there?” Coach Cross shouts. The vein in his temple throbs as he paces the locker room. Back and forth, back and forth.

“Look, I’m sorry, Coach, but the assholes sitting next to my girlfriend and my sister were talking shit and calling them vile names. I couldn’t let that stand.”

“So you threatened a paying fan?” Coach grabs his hair. “Jesus, Graves. What were you thinking?”

The rest of my team watches us like this is some juicy soap opera. They have my back on this—we know anyone who dates or marries us will end up with some level of public scrutiny—but no one gets to make our significant others cry because we’re underperforming at a game. “I was thinking I needed to protect two of the most important women in my life, coach. You’ve got a daughter. I’m sure you understand.”

“No, Graves,” he shouts. “I don’t. Because my daughter knows the score. When I’m coaching, hockey is everything. I don’t have a daughter. When I was married, it was the same with my wife. At the arena, I’m not a husband or father. When I’m here, I’m just a coach.”

“That’s probably why he got a divorce and none of us have ever met his daughter,” Navarro mumbles under his breath. And I have to agree. To me, family comes first. The people I love come first. Now, that includes the guys on my team. But a game is a game. Sure, I want to win. And yes, how I play is important to me. This is my career, after all. It’s my passion. But hockey isn’t everything. I’m seeing that with more and more clarity.

“Everyone shower and get the hell out of here,” Coach grumbles. “But hear me when I say that this kind of shit will never happen again. Understand?”

“Understood,” we say in unison.

“Your sister looked like she was about to punch that guy in the nose,” Wright says gleefully as we head for the showers. “She’s always been a spitfire.”

“She knows how to hold her own,” I agree. I never like that she has to, though. I wonder if Isla knows how to defend herself? Something to ask her later. “I should have insisted they sit in the box, but she was so excited to show Isla the whole experience.”

“Hey, man.” Logan squeezes my shoulder. “That wasn’t your fault. Wasn’t the girls’ fault, either. Sometimes people are the worst. The best thing we can do now is get ready as quickly as possible, meet them out there, and make sure they both have so much fun tonight that they forget the whole thing.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“Nah, I’m Wright,” Griffin sniggers. Logan punches him in the arm.

“Moron.”

Isla’s quiet. She has been since the moment I emerged from the locker room and wrapped her up in a long, tight hug. She was stiff at first, but eventually melted into my arms. I haven’t stopped touching her since. As soon as we sat around the large table at the back of the restaurant we invaded, I pulled her to my side.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask her for the tenth time. The words are a soft caress against the shell of her ear. I know she’s feeling out of sorts, and I don’t want to draw undue attention to her.

“Yeah,” she says. It’s not all that believable. “I’m just…” She gnaws on her bottom lip until I pull it away from her teeth with my thumb. “I just feel bad.”

“Why in the hell should you feel bad?”

She sighs, and I hate the way her shoulders slump. “I embarrassed you.”

What? I rear back like she’s slapped me because what in the hell? She thinks she embarrassed me? “Baby, how do you think you embarrassed me?”

“I shouldn’t have let those guys bother me,” she huffs out. “But I did, and then I caused enough of a scene that you got thrown out of the last few minutes of the game and you guys lost.” She peers up at me with sad, sapphire eyes. “Did you get in trouble?”

“No, baby, I didn’t get in trouble. Even if I had, it would have been worth it. Besides, you are not the reason we lost.”

“Nope,” Griffin pipes up from across the table. He takes a break from cracking jokes to my sister to quirk an eyebrow at Isla. “We lost because we weren’t in sync enough, and Boston’s defense was on point tonight.”

“He’s right,” Sebastian agrees with that calm demeanor of his that puts everyone at ease. “Even if Madds hadn’t been sent to the sin bin, we probably would have lost. Which is my fault, actually.”

Navarro always blames himself when we lose. I suppose that’s par for the course with most goalies, but it’s still bullshit. He let one shot through, but how many more did he block?

---