Page 13 of The Players Next Door

Chapter 5

Cameron

Islide across the ice, my leg pads scraping against the frozen surface as I follow the puck with laser focus. The Vipers are pressing hard, but they're not getting anything past me tonight. I'm a wall—a damn good one—and nothing's gonna dent my shutout.

"Cam! Left wing!" I hear my teammate yell.

I whip my head to the side, catching sight of the Viper's forward zeroing in. He thinks he's slick, but I've already read his intentions. My body moves on instinct, muscles coiling and then exploding outward as I thrust my glove hand up. The puck slams into it with a satisfying thud.

"Nice save, Porter!" comes another shout from the bench.

I nod, but the praise is background noise because my gaze drifts up. Up to the broadcasting box where Holly is watching us. I catch a glimpse of her blond hair, those big blue eyes probably tracking every player—me included. She's got that look, all intense concentration and professional poise. It's like she's still a part of the game, even from way up there.

We said it was a one-time thing. We all agreed. No strings, no distractions. But hell if I don't want more. Every time our eyes met that night—and every time since—something wild and electric passed between us. It wasn't just physical—it can't be just physical when I find myself scanning the crowd for her even now when I should be shutting out the rest of the world.

"Focus, Cam," I mutter to myself, wrenching my gaze away from her and back to the circling Vipers.

My mind knows I should let it go, but my heart's stubborn. It's hooked on Holly, on the memory of her laughter, how she felt against me, how right it seemed even though it was all kinds of complicated. With Deacon and Jaxon in the mix, this whole situation could blow up like a bad play on the ice. I mean, she’s Sawyer’s sister.

But damn, do I want her.

"Porter! Focus!"

I snap back to reality. Another shot comes flying at me, and I drop down into a butterfly, feeling the puck smack against my pads. The crowd loses it, but the sound fades into a dull roar compared to the thunderous beat of my own heart.

"Nice work, Cam!" A defenseman taps my helmet as he skates by.

"Thanks," I reply, pushing back to my feet.

I steal another glance at the broadcasting box. I can't help it. She's got her headset on, probably talking stats and strategies. Does she ever think of me, of us, while she’s working?

"Stay away," we'd said. "Just one night," we'd promised.

But I don't want that. I want Holly. And as the seconds tick down and the game wraps up, I know I've got a decision to make: keep playing by the rules or take a shot at something that might just be the biggest win of my life.

The puck slices through the air, a black blur against the gleaming ice. Instinct takes over; my body moves before mybrain registers the Vipers' sniper winding up from the circle. Glove up—snap—the puck slams into the leather, and I hold it aloft like a trophy. The shrill whistle confirms the save as the final buzzer sounds, and the arena erupts.

"Porter! You're a wall, man!" someone yells, and a flood of Grizzlies jerseys converges on me. They pat my back, and my helmet, in a barrage of kudos. I nod and offer grunts of appreciation, but my gaze sneaks to the broadcasting box one more time. Is she impressed? Does she care?

We won. Grizzlies four, Vipers zero. The crowd is a living thing, cheering, chanting, vibrating with energy. And in that thunderous moment, all I can think is that—I want to see Holly.

"Unreal game, Cam!" That's Thompson, always the loudest. He's beaming, teeth bright against his playoff beard.

"Thanks, Thompson," I manage, still scanning the dimly lit press area for her face.

"Shutout, baby!" Deacon slaps me on the shoulder, nearly knocking me off balance. "You're a beast!"

"Good defense in front of me." I deflect the praise like I deflected pucks during the game. It's second nature.

"Still, you're the hero tonight," he insists, with a wink. "Let's celebrate."

I’d really rather not. My post-game ritual is relaxing with a good book and just winding down. Unfortunately for me, my teammates have very different ideas and I get dragged out more often than not. Tonight though? Tonight, I’ll be joining them willingly because I have a feeling a pretty little blonde will be there at the after-party.

"Hey, Cam!" Jaxon calls, voice cutting through the noise. "Great work out there. Get a shower. We're hitting the town!"

"Uh-huh," I say, already peeling off my gear. My head says strip down, get clean, shut off. But my heart twists with another plan. Holly will be there. How do I act? What do I say?

"Cam, you coming?" It’s Jaxon again, eyebrows raised.

---