Page 1 of Unlovable Player

AUSTIN

The second we skate out onto the ice, Yale’s center-forward is there with that shit-eating, rich-boy grin I’d love to smack right off his face.

He keeps looking at me as we get into position for the opening face-off. His eyes still on me when he should be looking for the puck, and I swear I can feel him staring a hole into my head. I glance up and he fucking winks at me.

Whatever. I’ll watch for the puck and he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

The second the puck drops, Huntington ignores it and rams into me.

By the time I figure out his play, their left-winger’s skated in behind him and steals the puck.

I shove Huntington off me. “Fucking dick!”

“Keep up pretty boy,” he singsongs as he skates off.

My blood’s boiling as I skate into line. That was my fault. I should have been ready for him to do that. It’s his M.O all over.

Since Yale won the face-off, they manage to keep the puck in our defensive zone and get a few shots on target, but our goalie Olivetti, keeps them out. It isn’t an exaggeration to brag that we have the best goalie currently playing in the NCAA. We’re just lucky the NHL likes to give goaltenders a bit more time to develop before signing them to a pro team, or we would have lost him last year.

We win the puck behind Yale’s goal, Gray passes to me and I manage a breakaway down the line, cruising through the neutral zone before anyone can catch up. I look up and find Gray on my right and pass while the rest of the guys get their asses down here.

Gray hits it off the board and I catch it on my stick. I take a shot on goal. Two minutes in and we’re on the board.

Despitenotplaying defense, Yale’s resident asshole seems to have a vendetta against me and everywhere I look, he’s on me like flies on shit.

He steals the puck at center ice and breaks away. My lungs burning as I chase him down, but our defense stop him and we narrowly avoid conceding a goal as we go into the second period.

I’m feeling good as I sit on the bench. Sweaty, out of breath, muscles burning. The guys I’ve played with the past few years and a few new ones either side. Cracking jokes about Yale’s shitty defense.

When I look over to the Yale bench, Huntington’s glaring again. He winks at me and I groan.

Gray leans in, his mouth close to my ear. “I think he has a crush on you.”

“I think he gets off on pissing me off.”

So don’t show him it’s working.

That’s easier said than done.

We face off again in the second period, and I’m prepared for whatever he might throw at me this time. Surely he won’t try the same thing twice? I expect him to go for my stick this time. Though he’ll probably go for the puck to throw me off.

Nope. He rams right into me again, but this time I ram back. He drops his stick and holds on, pulling at my jersey and we butt helmets. I look up and his eyes are right there.Jesus, I hate this rich asshole.

Our faces are so close I can make out the freckles covering the top of his nose and cheeks, strands of dirty blond hair sticking out from under his helmet, the sheen of sweat on the end of his nose. He grins, flashing a set of pearly white teeth with a little gap.

“Wanna go pretty boy?”

“Wanna fuck off rich boy?”

He laughs and pushes me away.

The ref starts the face-off over and this time, I don’t even look at him. Maybe he’s distracted this time, because I get a chance to smack his stick out of the way and pass the puck to Gray, who skates down the ice like a rocket.

The second period is goalless and when we get out there in the third, it’s all to play for. One goal is shit in the grand scheme of things and Yale come out swinging.

I’m crushed in the corner behind Yale’s goal, fighting for the puck, when I feel something crash into my back. I’m pushed forward and Yale win the puck. When their defenseman skates back with it, I’m plunged forward and go head first onto the ice.

I hear a whistle and someone’s helping me up.

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