Page 104 of The Hat Trick

I feel myself sliding? down a slippery slope of very scary emotions. Emotions I haven’t felt in a long time. And it feels like I’ve fallen so far down that I don’t feel like I can pull myself back up again.

I can only hope someone will catch me once I’ve officially fallen over the edge.

33

We’ve been on a fucking roll lately. After those couple shit games where we lost, we’ve stepped up our game and are back on a winning streak. It feels fucking great, and I feel like for the first time in a long time, shit is good.

The only thing that isn’t so great is my dad. He continues to be up my ass about shit constantly. Whenever I’m not on the road with the team he’s trying to get me to come over or go to some event with him or he’s berating me over something, especially when I tell him no.

Then I get caught up with Chandler and that doesn’t even matter. That woman. Something about her has had me intrigued from the start. Even when we are at each other’s throats I’m hooked. When I can get her to melt for me, by my touch, my words. There’s not much that’s better than that. Including winning a game and I live for that shit.

The game we are playing right now has been brutal. It’s only the end of the first period and they have been testing our limits with their plays. And their hits. I’ve almost gotten into it with a couple of the guys already. They’ve cross checked a little too hard and I don’t put up with that, I’m going to shove back.

Refs keep stepping in before anything goes further and at this point it’s only making it worse for me and my temper. If I could just beat one of these assholes into the ice then maybe it would rejuvenate the team a bit and it would hype me up.

As we all are in position waiting for the puck drop, the winger next to me, bumps against my shoulder and starts chirping, “Thought you guys were going to be some actual competition. Especially you, McQuaid.”

I shove into him harder, watching carefully to see the moment the ref drops the puck. “You haven’t scored on us either so watch your fucking mouth.”

When the puck hits the ice I check him so hard he falls down and the whistle blows immediately. I groan in frustration as I skate over to the box and my penalty is called. I’ll end up starting the next period in here since I got a two-minute minor and there’s only around a minute left. That fucking asshole that was chirping sends a smirk in my direction as he skates past the box during the final play of the period.

The period ends and I’m skating across the ice to go back into the locker room with my team. Of course, Coach is pissed I got a penalty like that, but he’s used to it with me so after telling me it was a stupid move he saves the whole, “don’t do it again,” comment because he knows I will definitely be doing it again.

All the guys are fired up as we go back onto the ice for the second period. We are determined to get that first goal, and every goal after that to make this a shutout.

I’m back in the box watching the beginning of the play. I stand up when I have ten seconds left, the official holding the door in preparation to let me out. And as soon as he does, I’m flying out onto the ice, chasing after the puck with the rest of the team. I have tunnel vision when it comes to this game, especially right now when I’m determined to score on these fuckers.

The puck is in my possession, I’m flying down the ice toward their goal when I see I’m being guarded and shoot the puck over to Collee who’s open. Then, I’m being hit into the board. Hard. I fall from the force and when I glance up, I see it’s that smug son of a bitch, from earlier that hit me and that’s it.

My gloves fly off as I grab onto his jersey, bringing him back toward me so my fist can connect with his face. I’m hitting as he tries to block, but I manage to hit off his helmet as he gets his gloves off and is trying to punch back. It’s a weak effort if I’m being honest, the fucker is landing some hits but nothing bad enough to actually hurt.

Fans are cheering so loud, pounding on the glass but I barely hear it. I’m too focused on decking this asshole as many times as I can before I’m yanked off him. We end up on the ground, me on top of him raining down hits and that’s when the refs end it. They pull me away, doing everything they can to keep us apart. Despite us still yelling at each other.

We are both taken to our respective penalty boxes, but the yelling doesn’t stop.

“Fuck you, you’re the reason your team is shit! They will do better without you being on the line for a few minutes,” he chirps, and I just laugh.

“Keep talking, motherfucker. I just kicked your ass and you’re pissed about it.”

He keeps going, but I block him out. Instead, I focus on the ice and how my teammates are playing now. There’s a determination, or desperation that comes after a fight and I see it on both sides. I really see it with my teammates. Which is also evident when they end up finally scoring.

I send a smug look over at number eleven who is fuming which only makes me laugh even harder.

We end up shutting them out. Three to zero. It really felt like after my fight all the guys were revamped and ready to play. Including myself. Then during my post-game interview I was asked about it.

“McQuaid, it seemed like you and Evenson were having quite a bit of back and forth before that fight. What were you guys saying to each other?”

I chuckle, “Ah it was just some chirping and he had to answer for it.”

The reporter giggles. “How do you think your team did tonight? Especially after your fight?”

“The guys were playing a hard game the whole time, but I think we were all feeling the pressure and we just did what we needed to do, which was win the game.”

They ask me a couple more questions before I’m able to go shower, change and leave. I send Chandler a text while I’m walking to my car because I know she didn’t come to the game tonight. It wouldn’t surprise me if Dumont or Collee got to her first. I really don’t mind the situation, but it’s been a while since all four of us have hung out because she’s been so busy, and our game schedule has been intense.

We are off for a weeklong break starting now and I’m hoping she will have more time for us. Hopefully all together again becausefuckthat was hot. I wouldn’t admit to anyone how many times I’ve jacked off to the memory of that night, but it’s been a lot.

I look to see Chandler’s response to my text once I’m in my car.

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