Page 73 of Play the Game

Without being able to control myself, I take my arm and shove every last pillow off the bed and onto the floor.

She gasps.

I smirk. “We’ll see who's the first to break, then, huh?”

“It won’t be me!”

I roll over and put my back to her. “I guess we’ll see.”

The bed barely moves when she flips over too, facing opposite of me. “Yes, we will!”

I wait until the tension settles and silence takes over to say, “Night, wifey.”

All I get in response is a loud, exasperated sigh.

Water cools my skin,and I shake the droplets away. The fans are antsy with the score of two to two, and we’re nearing the last few minutes of the game. Practice was brutal, but it always feels good to be back in our home rink with the majority of the guys showing up with a level head after being in their own beds.

My head is the furthest thing from level with Scottie being around, especially after the other night, but I’m focused enough on hockey that it doesn’t affect my skill on the ice. It’ll be a cold day in hell if I ever let a woman distract me to the point that my game is off.

I slip my gaze to the box seats for a second, and there she is with Corbin’s wife, pressed against the glass with their attention on the ice and nowhere else. They’re talking, but I have no clue what about. I do a double take because Scottie’s hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and she’s wearing some bow like a cheerleader. After looking at the other wives, I see that they’re all wearing the same one.

I chuckle under my breath.

Scottie sure has played her part well, already becoming best friends with the other wives in the league.

Maybe I can use that to my advantage when I drop the bomb on her that she has to go to the charity event with me that will be fully packed with the media watching our every move as husband and wife.

The whistle blows, and I snap out of it. I move to pull my attention away but not before her gaze finds mine. She gives me a slight nod with a tilt of her lips, and knowing how muchknowledge she has of hockey, I know she’s not faking the hope in her eye that we’ll win.

It’s kind of cute that she’s rooting us on so hard.

The puck slips out to the left, and the Knights get the first touch, sending it soaring to their center. I bend at the legs and stand in my rightful spot with my attention fully on the little black biscuit.

Scottie pops into my head at the last second.

All I can picture is her with that damn biscotti, dipping it into her morning coffee and licking her lips afterward.

Fuck, get out of my head.

I give my head a harsh shake, and a rush of adrenaline flies to my fingertips when red and yellow jerseys blur in front of me. To the fans, the game is fast. The players rush back and forth over the rink like a stampede, but to me, everything is in slow motion. I already have the sense that they’re going to score, because things are getting messy and sloppy, but I’ll be damned if we lose again.

My teammates have cleaned up their act compared to our last game, and now it’s my job to support them and shove the puck down the other team's throat.

“Fuck off,” I grunt, doing a half split and whipping my arm out to the right. The puck slams into my glove, and I smile to myself, trapping it against the ice.

The crowd loses their shit, and Malaki flies toward me with a cheeky smile. “That’s our boy.”

I give him a look because I’m not a boy, but nonetheless, I give the puck up and get back into my position. There are two more attempts on a score from the Knights, and each time, I freeze the puck in an attempt to give my team a chance to slip it off to Rhodes.

Coach gives me the signal at the end of the third period when I glance at the clock and see that we’re tied. We’ve practiced thedrill multiple times, and I know they’re going to call me to the bench at the last second so we can up our chances of scoring with another man on the ice.

As soon as we have position, I skate as quickly as I can and flip over the side of the wall. Kane’s blades hit the ice, and he owns his nickname of being an animal. He’s aggressive, and although Rhodes can’t stand his attitude, he knows he’s good, so they work together and send a puck soaring into the net.

I stand on my skates, and as soon as I see it hit the top left corner, my mouth curves into a slight smile. “Now that’s teamwork.”

Coach claps me on the shoulder, and for the first time ever, Rhodes slides over to the rest of the team and hits me on the chest with his fist. He’s trying to hide how pleased he is from everyone else, but for me, looking at Rhodes is like looking into a mirror.

“Is that a smile I see?”

---