Page 18 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

But also, I appreciated the support.

Sighing, I shook my head. “Moral of the story, I fucking hate the dude. And the fact that he’s in the series fucking sucks.”

Asher clapped me on the back. Hard. “Man up, get your head in the game, and fucking win. Think of it as a gift that he saved you from eighteen years of misery.” Asher gave me a pointed look as he started singing the second verse of “Gold Digger”…terribly.

“Please, don’t ever do that again,” I said seriously.

He grinned, flashing the pearly white teeth that had been all over the television thanks to him being paid to be the face of a famous toothpaste company.

My alarm rang on my phone, signaling it was time to get to the arena. Unnecessary, since there’d been a countdown blasting in my head all fucking day.

Asher pounded on my back again and then raised his fists in the air, jumping up and down like he was a fighter about to walk out to the ring. “Let’s fucking go,” he yelled, and then next thing I knew, I was also jumping up and down like a lunatic too.

If there was one person that could hype me up, it was my best friend. And yes, I was well aware of how sappy I was being today. I blamed it on the fact that I was about to play the biggest game of my career.

Feeling much better than I had earlier, I danced my way down the hall to get ready for the game and to kick Tyler Miller’s ass.

* * *

I walked into the locker room, noting the intense air in the room. Fuck, I didn’t usually get nerves. But this? This was the big time.

“Rookie,” Lincoln said with a nod, as he sat in front of his locker, wrapping tape around the handle of his hockey stick.

I nodded back, trying to look chill, cool, nonchalant, so to speak.

Lincoln Daniels was just a few years older than me, but he wastheman.

I’d fucking wanted to be him for years. MVP almost every year, led the league in scoring, and a million endorsement deals. Who wouldn’t want to be him?

Another thing I was never going to admit, obviously.

“Well, you don’t look like you’re going to faint, that’s a start,” Ari, the burrito violator, remarked as he eyed me, looking cool as a cucumber leaning against his locker, already fully dressed.

Glancing around the room, I could see that most of the team was already dressed. Fuck, how early had everyone gotten here? We’d been doing practice, press conferences, social media videos, and about a million other promotional things since we’d won the Conference Finals. No one had told me that getting to the arena four hours early was a thing, too!

“Ah, there it is, the panic is properly settling in,” Camden, our other star defenseman on the team, tossed out.

“On a scale of one to ten, how badly are you shitting your pants right now?” Walker Davis asked, sounding way too casual as he strapped on one of his goalie pads.

“Since when are you so concerned with the state of my briefs, Disney?” I asked. “Not that I’m wearing any.”

Ari groaned in disgust, but all four of them were still eyeing me as I slowly walked to my locker.

All right…this was suspicious, my eyebrows rose because…

“What’s the fucking bet?” I growled.

Almost identical blank stares appeared on their faces. My jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you bet on me. Which of you were on my side?”

“Who do you think?” scoffed Ari, rolling his eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t get stuck there.

I made the mistake of staring hopefully at Lincoln, and it was a mistake I paid for immediately.

Ari jumped up, his finger waving at me. “I knew it! I knew you were just like him!” His finger moved to Walker who wasalsostaring hopefully at Lincoln.

This was a fucking disaster. So much for my plan of playing it cool.

“When are any of you going to give me the proper respect I deserve? I need simpage, people. And lots of it,” Ari snarled.

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