Page 210 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
“Dude, argue with me all you like. I see you. I see those heart eyes you get every time you receive a message from her. I see yourexcitement after every game because you know you’re closer to talking to her. You’ve got it fucking bad, and you know it.”
I comb my fingers through my hair, dragging it back until it stings.
Silence falls between us as he allows me space to gather my thoughts.
“What the fuck am I going to do?”
“Ready for this?” Linc says, clapping me on the shoulder before we leave the dressing room, ready to hit the ice.
We’re playing Vancouver again tonight, and I need my head in the game more than ever.
Cooper fucking Nash is going to be waiting for me.
If I’m lost in thoughts of Casey and what our future might hold, he’s going to see—and he’s going to use it to his advantage.
“Yeah,” I say as we make our way to the ice.
The air around us vibrates with Vancouver fans' excitement, but, I don’t feel it.
All I feel is dread.
I’m distracted. All I can think about is the fact that Linc knows. And all I want to do is go home and see her.
Basically, I’m a fucking mess who shouldn’t be allowed to face off against anyone tonight, let alone Cooper Nash.
The buzzer sounds a beat before we’re announced, and one by one, we shoot out onto the ice.
Lights flash, music plays, and the Vancouver fans cheer, excited for what’s to come.
“Long time, no see,” Nash mutters as I pass him.
I shake my head, trying to remember a time when it wasn’t like this between us. The memories get hazier each time we meet and he proves to me what an asshole he grew into.
Whatever.
He’s not important.
I need to focus on the win and the private celebration that will follow.
Shut her out.
She’ll be waiting for you after. Right now, you have to focus.
“Motherfucker,” I grunt as I collide with the boards, Nash’s weight following a beat later.
“You’re playing like a pussy, Rivers,” he says in my ear. “Bet your daughter is more of a man than you on the ice.”
We’re almost halfway through the third period, and this asshole has been getting under my skin all fucking game.
So far, I’ve managed to keep a lid on it. But the second he brought Sutton into it, my grip slips.
Pushing from the boards, I spin on him.
“The fuck did you just say to me?” I bellow, my fist curling in his jersey, dragging him so close our helmets collide.
“I said you’re a bigger pussy that Sutton.”
The red haze descends, and before I manage a conscious thought, I throw my stick to the ice and rip my gloves off.
