Page 70 of Power Play

She steps inside, leaving me alone. I turn around and go back to the bench to get my wallet. Thoughts swirl inside my head, my emotions so strong and so pleasant, even my steps are lighter.

I sit down on the bench, slipping my wallet back into my pocket. And, with a surprise, I realize that even with all my conflicting emotions, I don’t feel any regret.

Whatever she’s willing to give me, I will take.

Even if it’s just sex.

Chapter 24

The Wrong Jersey

CLAY

Now, October

Roman ismoodier than usual today. He hit Karlsson from the Vegas team so hard he busted his lip. All because the guy checked Crawford into the board. A few minutes in the penalty box definitely cooled him off, but it didn’t last long. He’s vicious and brutal, and I’m curious to know why.

Though I can’t say I’m any better. It’s been almost two weeks since I saw Layla in person, and it’s driving me up the wall a little bit—or a lot, considering today is the first game of the regular season, she’s here with Maya, and I’m not fucking playing again.

Dammit.

I’m watching the game from the bench. Vegas is one of the best teams in the league, and they are clearly dominating the ice. When we headed to the locker room after the first period, they were winning two to one. Now it’s the second period, and I don’t think we’ve really improved our game. Or maybe Vegas is that good.

Admitting when and how your opponent is better than you is crucial if you ever want to succeed. It can help you learn fromyour mistakes, improve the quality of your game, and get the results everyone is so desperate for.

I stand up and step closer to the board to get a better look at what’s happening on the ice. My nerves are on fucking fire, making me restless. She’s here, and I’m not playing. It’s our first game of the regular season, and I’m not playing. We’re losing, and I’m not fucking playing. I can’t do anything to help my team from the bench.

Fuck it.

Andy, an assistant coach, extends water to me. I take it, grumbling thanks under my breath, watching as our line changes. Roman’s mood matches my own with how he slumps on the bench, murder in his eyes. Something is definitely bothering him, but at least he has his wife rooting for him. Even if that little minx came to her husband’s first game wearing Benson’s jersey.

Just like Layla. She’s wearing the wrong jersey too.

I dare to look, finding her in the crowd right away since I know where she’s sitting. Maya is on her lap, her attention focused on the phone in Michael’s hands. Layla, on the other hand, has her eyes glued to the ice. She’s always loved hockey, because her brother plays, and because the game fascinates her. We spent hours watching games, talking about our favorite players, and it never felt forced. She was into it…just as much as I was into her.

The roar in the arena becomes louder, and I notice Colton and Drake heading toward the Vegas net. If they score now, the game will be tied, and we can use the third period to finally take the initiative and win the fucking game.

C’mon, Colt, I know you can do it.

He passes the puck to Drake, and for a moment, I expect him to seize the opportunity. But instead of sending the puck flying into the Vegas net, he returns it to Colton. And, witha precise snap shot, Colt sends the puck right past the Vegas goalie. I pump my fist in the air. Two to two, baby! That goal was definitely what the team and the fans needed because the arena goes insane with cheers and shouts. Nothing is lost yet.

As we go into the locker room at the end of the second period, I don’t feel as bummed as I was. A win would make me feel better; it’d save me from feeling disappointed that I sat on the bench again. I knew what I was signing up for during my first year with the Thunders, but it’s hard not to be upset. Especially after I was starting in Chicago.

“You did great,” I tell Colton, sitting down on the bench beside him. He’s breathing hard as he pours water into his mouth.

“Thanks,” he says once he swallows. “You okay?” He lowers his voice. “I know you hate not playing.”

I snort. “I do, but what can I do about it? I talked to Coach several times. It’s not like I can force him to start me.”

“You can.” Colt shrugs. “Prove it next time he puts you in.”

“If—”

“No,when,” he states confidently. “Coach knows you’re a great goalie. He knows he can count on you. All you need is the chance to make it known to everyone.”

“I’ll probably only play away games.” Which means she won’t be there.

“And you’re not happy about that?” He arches an eyebrow at me.

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