Page 31 of Mine

“It’s not a criticism if all you do is try and taunt me with how bad I've been playing,” I said, as my mask of indifference slid into place. “I know I haven’t been playing my best. I’m trying to work through it and all your berating isn’t helping, it’s fucking annoying and it’s stressing me out. So can we fucking start our drills instead of bickering?”

I skated away from him putting down the rest of the cones before I let my anger get the best of me. If we fought again and no one else was here, who knows how bad it was going to get. It was likely not going to stop and we didn’t need Coach giving us more punishments.

“Babying you isn’t working so what else am I supposed to do?” he asked, following me. “This might be my last year and I’m not going to let my chance of possibly getting a championship slip away just because a rookie can’t get his shit together.”

“God forbid it’s you fucking holding us back,” I said, putting a few pucks on the ice starting an easy drill.

Riggs kept speaking, but I ignored him until he started running the drills with me, talking smack any chance he got. One of our coaches showed up halfway through our drill, giving us more instruction. Before we knew it, an hour and a half had gone by and while our drills had gotten better, I was over the training and all I wanted was to go home.

It wasn’t just Riggs' words in my head, but my father’s, my brother’s and my uncle’s. It was all fucking with me, and I knew it was messing with my playing, but how could you silence years of criticism? My mind felt like it was going to explode until I noticed a familiar figure on the side of the ice.

Valencia stood there with her camera taking shots of us, and when she noticed my gaze she lowered her camera, waving at me. Coach Graves was talking to Riggs, and I skated to Valencia.

“Hey, what brings you here?” I stopped abruptly, hitting her with a little ice.

“Gosh, Ro, don’t get the curls wet! I just washed my hair, and these curls look amazing today,” she said, sliding a hand over her hair.

“You always look gorgeous, can’t imagine a little ice would do anything to make you less attractive,” I said with a smirk.

She narrowed her eyes towards me. “Laying it on thick today, aren’t we?”

“What? I’m always like this,” I said, feigning innocence.

“Sure, I see you talking to reporters, it’s that Gomez charm,” she said, as her cheeks grew pink.

“So, you think I’m charming?” I raised my brow. “Good to know.”

“No, you are definitely trouble,” she smirked. “Plus, your charms won’t work on me, can’t fuck a co-worker, it’s bad manners.”

“I don’t think we are co-workers,” I said, knowing she was right. “We are like work acquaintances.”

She laughed. “Sure, keep telling yourself that, Romeo. You’re just trouble, that’s what you are.”

“For you, I’ll always be trouble,” I said, leaning a little forward just to see what she would do.

She leaned a little closer till we were only a few inches apart, and for a split second, I thought she might be leaning in to kiss me. What would it be like to kiss her?

“See, trouble,” she said, pushing me back. “Go practice with your best friend.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny,” I grumbled, skating away from her.

“Play nice, you guys played decently yesterday,” she said, taking my photo.

“Gomez!” Coach Graves yelled at me.

“Quit your flirting,” Riggs said, skating past me and it took everything in me not to trip him with my stick.

“Worried about competition?” I taunted.

“Not a fucking chance,” he growled.

“I’m sure Valencia doesn’t want some old man taking her out for the senior discounts and being in bed before nine.”

Riggs chuckled before covering it up with a scowl. A laugh made me look at Valencia who was shaking her head.

“Gomez, get your ass over here,” Coach snapped, and I made my way to him.

He gave me some pointers on where I was weak. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Riggs making Valencia laugh, igniting an inferno of jealousy. Why was he such a fucking thorn in my side?

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