Page 117 of Second-Rate Superstar
“You know, it’s kinda cold in here . . .”
I took one last drag of our unique blend of scents and slid her leggings back into place.
“Happy now?” I gave her a pat on the ass.
Turning in my arms, Dakota’s eyes darted over my shoulder before they fixed on my face and she smiled. “Happy New Year, Braxton.”
I whipped my head around and saw that we’d missed the countdown while having fun in the penalty box. Buried deep inside the woman I lovedas the clock struck midnight was symbolic—we were getting a fresh start, together. The future was what we made it.
“Happy New Year, Firefly.” I slid my hand into her curls, tipping her head back before sealing my lips over hers in a kiss.
A new year, a new life, and I couldn’t be happier.
Coach was pissed. The death glare he shot me as I headed to the box for the fifth time that night would have scared most players straight. Too bad it wouldn’t work on me. Not tonight.
The first time I was called for an inadvertent high-sticking penalty, I skated off without much of a fuss. Sure, it sucked that sometimes your stick ended up somewhere it wasn’t supposed to be, and it looked worse than it was. As I made my way to the box, the replay on the big screen showed it as accidental. Our sticks got tangled, and when Kohler for the DC Eagles lifted his, mine went with it, clipping him in the chin. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t intent; the second my stick touched his face, I was guilty.
So, off to the box I went.
The second the attendant shut me inside, I lost my damn mind.
The scent of Dakota—ofsex—filtered into my nostrils, and I became a man possessed. I would be damned if any of my teammates got a whiff of my girl and that became the topic of post-game locker conversations. I knew they wouldn’t be able to let it slide. They’d dig until they figured out which among us had had sex in the penalty box. And then it would become a discussion of when, and I wouldn’t put it past one of them to grease the palms of the security team to pull the tapes to find out.
That couldn’t happen.
Once I was let out, I made it my personal mission to be the only Comet to land himself in the box, which wasn’t an easy task. I was one of eighteen skaters. Anything could happen when I wasn’t on the ice.
But when I was out there, I took bad penalties. I needed another hit, and it clouded my judgment. The more time I spent in the box, the more I craved Dakota. God help her later because I was going to tear her apart.
This fifth and final penalty had been strategic. I started a fight with thirteen minutes left on the game clock. I knew I would get the two for fighting, but I made sure to call the ref a pussy, and that earned me an extra ten. There was enough time past my penalty that they wouldn’t send me down the tunnel and say my night was over. There would be a little over sixty seconds remaining after I’d served my time.
The instant I was let out, Coach told me to take a seat through gritted teeth. He would make me pay for it tomorrow at practice, but I didn’t care.
The buzzer sounded on a three-to-one win over the Eagles—no small miracle with how much time we’d spent shorthanded, courtesy of yours truly—and we skated to congratulate Reed for a great game played in net.
As the captain, Jaxon was always the last one off the ice and waited for me by the bench door. One dark eyebrow raised, he asked, “What in the world got into you tonight?”
I shrugged. “You know how it is. Sometimes, you’re in the mood to mix it up.”
Gesturing for me to step off the ice ahead of him, we walked toward the locker room.
“Yeah, I do know how it is. But usually, when a clean player can’t stay out of the box, something else is going on. Everything okay with Dakota? It seemed like you two worked everything out back at the lake house.”
“Better than okay,” I shot back, an edge to my voice.
Jaxon tugged my elbow, halting me before we reached where the media was huddled outside the locker room, ready and eager to be let inside.
“Look, I thought we shared a moment while up there. I don’t know, maybe I was wrong. But if you ever need my help, know you can always come to me. I wasn’t around a lot when you were a kid, but I’m here now. And I want us to be closer.”
Fuck, why did Jaxon always have to be the better man? He was trying, and I was being an asshole to him.
Leaning against the concrete wall, I let out a heavy breath. “Yeah, we did. I’m sorry. I promise Dakota and I are fine. I was in a weird head space tonight. It won’t happen again.”
His whiskey eyes, identical to mine, surveyed me skeptically. “Dad?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fuck, no.”
“All right.” Jaxon nodded. “Let’s go get cleaned up. Better take it easy tonight because Coach is gonna ride you hard tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Been there.”
