Page 78 of Puck My Stepbrother
“Of course it was.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner.”
“Doesn’t matter. I wasn’t going to rush you.”
That was the difference between Jeff and Levi. Jeff understood boundaries and would never pressure me into anything. And Levi…well, I knew what he was like.
When I rolled off the couch, Jeff sat up and we started dressing. I heard a key turn in the front door. Evidently, Jeff heard it too, as he became instantly alert, stumbling to pull his pants up as quickly as possible.
I took my time getting dressed. When I’d told Jeff that I didn’t care if Levi walked in on us, I really meant it.
“What are we going to do?” Jeff asked.
“We’re just going to go up to my room. No need to panic.”
He rolled his eyes as if to ask how anyone wouldn’t panic in our position. I took his hand and we walked toward the stairs, finding Levi waiting at the bottom of them. My stepbrother-to-be stared at both of us for a moment. Doubtless he’d noticed our wrinkled clothes and the exertion still fresh on our faces. He said nothing about it, but sometimes the words one doesn’t say speak the loudest.
“Getting home a little late, aren’t you?” I asked Levi.
“No, I’m home the same time I always get back from practice.”
My stepbrother-to-be obviously didn’t detect my hidden message. If he’d shown up even five minutes earlier, he would’ve caught Jeff and me in the throes of passion. That moment told me that I’d defeated Levi. No, wait, I’d conquered my own hang-ups. Accomplishing that meant I wasn’t beholden to my old bully anymore.
“You guys going out someplace?” he asked.
“No, I think we’ll go up to my bedroom now.”
I wiggled my eyebrows at him as if to suggest we were heading up there to enjoy round two. His eyes stayed fixed on us as we climbed the stairs, but they no longer held any power over me.
30
LEVI
Iknew something was wrong the moment my blades hit the ice. No, that’s wrong. I knew that something was wrong the moment I laced up my skates. Hold on, even that’s not right. A nagging feeling had followed me around ever since last night. That feeling had consumed my attention, leaving me feeling sluggish.
Instead of letting that feeling take control of me, I poured all my might into focusing. The Larkin Lions had made the playoffs, not because of me, but in spite of me. I’m sure Coach Hardison thought that, even though he hadn’t said it. We’d dropped the first three games of a best-of-seven series. One more loss and we could flush our season down the toilet. And I knew damn well what Hardison would make sure I knew it was my fault.
When the teams lined up and faced the flags for the national anthem, thoughts of Quinn deluged my mind. He’d consumed my every waking moment for the longest time. I wondered what he was doing right now, if he was happy, and most importantly, if he’d thought about me at all.
Most of all, I wondered how we’d be going to the wedding with Jeff…and I knew what they’d been doing at the house.Maybe Quinn thought I was stupid, but I hadn’t missed a thing. Their wrinkled clothes and flushed faces had said it all. Their wide-open flies offered an exclamation point to the obvious.
Quinn had wanted me to know that I had no chance with him. He’d given himself to someone else, and I could do nothing about it. He wanted me to feel powerless. I couldn’t deny that he’d succeeded on some level, especially because he’d actually had sex with someone else. That dork Jeff could never satisfy Quinn the way I could, but that almost didn’t matter anymore.
When the opening buzzer sounded, I skated to center ice for the faceoff against Stony Brook. Normally, I stared my opponent down. You’re supposed to keep your eyes on the ice, waiting for the referee to drop the puck, but I never did that.
Call it a psychological edge. I wanted my opponent to fear me. I wanted them to feel outmatched from the start. If I could knock them off-kilter mentally, I could snatch the puck the moment it hit the ice. When I tried doing the same with Aaron Thomson, Stony Brook’s star player, I didn’t believe my own shit. Laser beams didn’t shoot out of my eyes like I’d once believed. I could no longer control another man the way I was used to doing.
When the ref dropped the puck, I recovered it immediately, which saved me from an immediate disaster. But I couldn’t ram my way past Thomson and dart down the ice like I would have before. Instead, Thomson drove his shoulder into my chest, knocking me off-balance and nearly causing me to lose the puck.
I steadied myself, ready to make a hard push toward the net, but Stony Brook’s Ben Hamilton zipped up beside me, stealing the puck. The roar of the crowd seemed so distant, like in a dream, but I knew what they were thinking. Last year’s national champions continued to look listless in the face of defeat. I couldn’t allow the worst to happen. I charged down the ice,chasing after Hamilton, but he swung in front of the net, took a shot, and scored.
Ryan Detenbeck, the Larkin Lions goalie, remained on his knees in the crease, clearly in disbelief that he’d already let a puck slip past him.
That wasn’t his fault, though. If I’d held onto the puck, Stony Brook wouldn’t have reached the net to take that shot. Yeah, it’s a team sport, so everyone’s collectively responsible for everything that happens, but I couldn’t help blaming myself. I’d failed to get in the zone, after all.
Worse, I knew damn well that Coach Hardison would blame me for it. When I glanced at the bench, the coach kept his usual stony expression, but I knew what he was thinking. I sure as shit hadn’t forgotten that conversation in his office.
It didn’t have to be all bad. Even the coach always told us that it was just the first period, and there was a ton of hockey left to play. In other words, we shouldn’t panic just because the other team had drawn first blood. I just had to pick myself up and keep fighting.
