Page 113 of Pucking Obsessed

Shay looked drained and exhausted the moment that he stepped onto the ice.

Colton’s extreme practice techniques have backfired and slowed down the star player.

But what’s wrong with D’Angelo? He’s seriously off.

The crowd is more muted than normal. They can tell that something is wrong with their team.

I ignore the chatter of the commentator and the bank of journalists and photographers from the press.

The cold bites my cheeks.

Normally, despite the pressure, I’m buzzing with excitement at a game. This time, however, I’m chilled to the bone with dread.

There’s something in the air.

Everybody can sense it. The Bay Rebels’ rivals are using it to go for the kill.

“Come on.” Eden slams his hand against the glass like Shay can hear him.

I slip my hand into the pocket of my coat just for a moment to brush over the angel wing shell that Eden gave to me at the beach house like a lucky charm.

Players are superstitious. Why can’t I be?

D’Angelo passes Shay the puck. Shay skates toward the goal with the first real determination in the game.

I hold my breath.

Please.

The crowd are on their feet, cheering.

D’Angelo needs this goal.

Even if the team lose, it can’t look like it happened because of his bad leadership.

I glance toward my right.

Dad is standing by the benches to get the best vantage point and view. He’s dressed in a smart black suit with the team’s official tie.

He’s animated, shouting at the players. He’s red faced and waving his arms.

I’ve never seen him this furious in public.

My shoulders tense with nerves, when I study the entire board and other senior members of staff flanking him.

Lee, Kates, and Stansfield look grim.

Yet Bronwyn is smirking.

The asshole.

Then my gaze is drawn unwillingly to the sociopathic jerk who started all of this: Heine.

He’s the one who created the bet that D’Angelo must win two out of three of these games, otherwise he’ll have to resign his captaincy.

Yet Heine is sprawled on the bench, flicking his wavy, honey blond hair casually over his shoulder like this is a relaxing outing for him.

He looks out of place amongst the much older men and women dressed in stuffy suits. His skull designer t-shirt is artfully ripped to reveal just a glimpse of one nipple and a sliver of his pale stomach.

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