Page 8 of Iced Out

My voice comes out in a snarl. “You’re the one in charge on this ice. Not me. So instead of worrying about whatI’mdoing, why don’t you start showing some qualities of an actual leader?”

His brows clash together, nose wrinkling back in disgust. “I think it’s time you get over the fact that your last name wasn’t enough to get this position for yourself.”

Wow. He actually went there. Again.

“You’re unbelievable, de Haas. Classy as fucking ever.” I nod over toward the penalty box. “Enjoy watching me lead this team to victory while you’re in time out.”

He glares at me, wiping away the blood from his eyebrow with the back of his hand.

I’d hope getting punched in the face might teach him a lesson, but if history has proven anything, it won’t make a damn bit of difference.

“Captain material, my ass,” I mutter under my breath as I watch him skate his ass over to the sin bin and plop his temperamental ass down on the wooden bench.

Unfortunately, I’m full of shit by saying I’d lead the team to victory.

It’s actually the complete opposite of what happens when we get smoked during the five-minute power play, thanks to Quinton’s temper. And to make it worse, his absence on the ice makes it possible for Trenton Collegeto score not one, but two goals.

Giving them the win.

The atmosphere in the locker room afterward is somewhere between abysmal and depressed, especially since we haven’t lost a home opener in years. Since well before any of us came to play at Leighton.

After the dressing down we get from Coach in our post-game meeting, most of us keep to ourselves, either jumping in the shower or ice baths to get cleaned up, as if that’s enough to wash away the stench of loss.

Braxton, who is one of my roommates, sidles up beside me as I redress. Both of us are aware of the way de Haas is banging around at his stall like the petulant child he is, still unable to get ahold of his rage, though we do our best to ignore it.

It’s embarrassing.

“Am I actually seeing this?” I mutter more to myself than anyone, but from the way Braxton nods in agreement, I know he heard me.

“I wish we weren’t.” He pauses, and we trade a quick glance. “We gotta do something about this, man. Or we’re gonna be in for a long season.”

“Like what? It’s not like we can just impeach him or something. Hockey isn’t a democracy.”

“It fucking should be.”

He makes a point.

I’m at a complete loss here, just like I bet half the team is. Because this sure as hell isn’t the way a captain should act or perform on the ice. Or off it.

“If we were still in high school, we’d just have to plant some weed or booze in his locker and he’d be done for.” I sigh, slipping into my shoes. “If only it were that easy now.”

“You’re telling me,” Braxton grumbles, falling in step beside me as we head for home. “But we’ll get him outta here. One way or another.”

Three

Quinton

Helmets and pads bang and clack against wooden stalls as the team strips down after practice. We’ve been gearing up for our first away game series at none other than our rival school—also in the Chicago area—Blackmore University, and despite the hiccups in our first two games at home, I’m feeling good about how the team is meshing.

At least, for the most part.

The exception is when I’m on the ice with Oakley. The rhythm between the two of us is still shaky at best, usually looking more like Bambi on ice than two top-tier college athletes who have been on the same team for years. But it’s better than it was a few weeks ago, so I’ll take all the progress I can get.

Honestly, I don’t think Coach thought this whole thing through. While tossing us out on the ice together might be a good idea in theory, it’s clearly not working well in practice. Figuratively and literally.

There’s a reason we’ve spent most of our college careers on two different lines. It just works better that way. Causing less issues between us, since we both have our time to shine. We don’t have to cross paths more than necessary, and we work better with different people. Only problem is, those people graduated last season, and for the time being, we’re all each other has.

Most of the guys undress quickly, ready to rush off to the shower before heading out. But then Coach steps out of his office, and almost immediately, the team comes to a halt.

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