Page 7 of Major Penalty

“Move faster,” I say.

“Move faster,” Langley mutters. “Like I’ve got fucking rockets strapped to my feet.”

From the bench, Coach Brown shouts, “Moreno, get your head outta your ass and cover better!”

Coach Brown steps onto the ice, stick in hand. The guys part instinctively, giving him space. He stops a few feet from me, sharp eyes sweeping over my stance.

Most people don’t get under my skin. Brown’s the exception. Not because he’s a hardass. He is, but I’ve dealt with much worse. It’s what he’s done for me and keeps doing.

“Too easy?” he asks.

“Always.” I roll my shoulders.

Brown exhales through his nose. “Let’s make Black sweat a little, boys!”

He expects more from us. He always does. And I’d do anything to give it to him. I’d do anything to show him he didn’t make a mistake when he took me under his wing. Though, the feeling of being undeserving of all the kindness he’s shown me eats at me like the pain in my hip.

Brown lifts his stick and jabs it toward my chest. “Do it again. The first round of the Western Finals starts in a couple of weeks.”

I nod once before gliding away.

She’s still there, watching me, her full pouty lips parted.

My fingers flex around my stick. She can’t look away? Well, neither can I.

The locker room is loud as hell. Showers running, guys talking shit, and the usual post-practice routine. I’m barely listening, my mind still on the ice, on the way she was watching me.

“The new PTA’s cute as fuck.” I hear someone say, their voice muffled by the hiss of the showers.

My back is to them as I pull a clean shirt over my head. I don’t react, at least not outwardly.

“Did you see her ass in those leggings?” Davidson lets out a low whistle.

“She was blushing when I talked to her earlier,” another guy chimes in.

“You think she’s got a thing for hockey players?”

“You think you can be a bit more professional?” Rowan barks at them, stepping into their little circle.

“Come on, Captain. You’re not being professional with our PR agent.” Stone nudges Rowan, and my lips twitch into a small smile at the death glare Rowan gives him.

“Talk about Livia again, and I’ll bench you until the end of the season,” Rowan growls at him.

“Hey, hey!” Damien chimes in. “Everyone, chill. It’s normal to talk in here.” He turns to the rest of the guys. “Just keep it respectful, okay?”

There’s a round of murmurs of agreement. Good. Because I was one comment away from threatening someone’s life, not just to bench them.

I shouldn’t be this irritated. I don’t even know the girl.

And yet, the fact they all see how stunning she is pisses me off. I keep my face blank, but something tight coils low in my stomach. It’s not jealousy. It’snot.It’s just…I don’t fucking like it. I roll my shoulders and shake it off.

By the time I step out of the locker room, I’m back to normal.

Until I seeher.

Irene’s standing a few feet away, near the hallway leading to the PT room. She looks like she’s been waiting for someone.

I move past her without slowing down, testing it.

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