Page 17 of Unlovable Player

When he turns around, he’s wearing that smile that says nothing can touch him.

“Hey, I just wanted you to know, just because Coach wants to give you a shot, it doesn’t mean you’re taking Hayes’ place on the first line.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Sounds a lot like that to me.”

“So you played first line at Yale, you were a center, doesn’t mean you’ll be a good left-winger.”

His grin widens and I’ve never wanted to smack someone as much as I do right now. “Maybe I won’t be playing left wing,” he says.

“What?” My heart pounds and my stomach drops, and before I know it, I’m pushing him against the wall and pinning him to the red brick. His grin has faltered, but only a little. His cheeks flushed.

“You’d better back the fuck offYale.Your bullshit might have worked at your Ivy League school, but here, Daddy’s money won’t buy you whatever you want.”

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his pale throat.

“Did you hear me?”

He nods. His brown eyes wide as his chest heaves with his heavy breath. I let up the pressure and back off.Shit, what the fuck am I doing?

He dusts himself off, regaining his composure, though his grin doesn’t seem as certain now.

“I was just kiddingDonno, I have no interest in taking your spot, you’re the captain for fucks sake, you don’t need to be so insecure.”

He walks ahead of me and I hang back so I don’t end up saying, or doing, something I’ll regret… again.

SEBASTIAN

Itake my seat beside Austin in class, even though my heart is still pounding from that confrontation. I don’t want him to see how much he rattled me.But holy fuck!

I must have really gotten to him to squeeze a reaction like that out of ‘three years in a row winner of the award for exemplary sportsmanship.’ I didn’t realize someone with the future Austin has laid out in front of him could be so insecure about his position on the team. I don’t even care what position I play, and I sure as fuck don’t want to be the captain. No thanks. I just want to play. I don’t even need to be in the first line. But if that’s where Coach wants to put me, then I’m not about to argue. Hayes played like shit in the last game, this is the NCAA - last whistle stop before the pro leagues. Hayes will just have to learn to deal with it. If he wants his spot back, then he’ll have to fight me for it.

Austin is quiet in class. I sneak a glance in his direction and catch him bouncing his pen over an empty page in his notebook. He doesn’t even look like he’s listening to the professor.

I watch his hand wrapped around the pen. Think about how it felt pressing me against that wall. The warmth of his skin through my sweater. His minty breath in my face.Fuck. I thought it would be fun pissing him off, but it kind of sucks that he hates my guts.

As soon as the professor lets us go, Austin shoots up and is out of the room before anyone has a chance to stop him. I don’t even consider following to annoy him this time. I think I’ve already done enough.

Our next practisesession is rough. Coach has us running through the same drills. This time, when he teams me up with Donoghue and Gray, we all know it’s not just to mix things up in practise. This is the new first line. At least for the Harvard game.

I can feel Hayes shooting me death stares. He has a couple of the other guys doing it too. Either Coach doesn’t notice - which I doubt - or he’s leaving it up to his captain to sort out before he’s forced to step in.

I try not to let it bother me. I’ve had worse. Boarding school wasn’t exactly a breeze. And I’ve had people talking about me behind by back for way worse than stealing someone’s spot on the first line.

Captain is a pro through the drills of course. And we start to gel as linemates. Gray following his lead.

When Coach tells us to pair up for some face-off practise, I think Captain is going to blow me off to team up with his buddy. I start skating away, ready to be the last kid picked – the one who Coach has to team up with because they don’t have any friends. But there’s a tug on my jersey and I look up to find Captain pulling me back.

“You’re with me,” he practically growls.

Holy fuck, is he going to hit me right in front of everyone? Including Coach? When I started messing with him, I didn’t mean to send the guy crazy.

“I need you to show me how to win a face-off.”

Oh.I have a hard time hiding my grin. It’s like it exists on it’s own automatic setting.

“Don’t look so smug,” he says.

We get into position, Gray acting as ref with the puck, ready to drop it at the whistle.

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