Page 12 of Whirlwind
Who is this woman?
And why is she consuming my day?
It’s stupid. She’s in Isla’s orbit and I’m too close to that as it is. Besides, Kit doesn’t seem like the one-night stand kind ofwoman. She owns a house and a dog, which tells me she isn’t one to shy away from commitment. That isn’t something I find interesting right now.
I hit the friend request button, then back out to the main menu. Shooting some aliens onDestinywill take my mind off everything, and that’s what I need for the next two hours. Mindless entertainment before a good nap.
Then, it’s time for my Seattle debut, which somehow feels a lot like my NHL debut.
We take the ice and much like this morning, there’s a lightness about me. Like I’m breathing fresh air for the first time. The pregame compadre in the locker room was a vibe, all the guys get along so well. They know who to leave be and who likes to fuck around. Letty and Blom are the biggest goofballs, while Fane stays relatively quiet and focused. Wylder is a good leader, says the right things without being too wordy.
Coach was similar. He came in for the last few minutes, gave us the rundown for the game. Then said, “Set the fucking tone, boys.”
That’s exactly what we do. Within the first four minutes of play, we have eight shots on goal, with Wallin landing one of them in the net off my rebound.
“Fuck yeah,” he yells as we collide in celebration. “Nice play, Pretty Boy!”
“Great shot, Wally,” I tell him as we skate off to the bench.
Maybe fans think we take all this for granted, being that it’s what we do each day. But we don’t. Every damn goal is a big deal. No matter how many years we’ve been doing it. No matter how good a player you are. It takes so many shots before you get one in.
I wonder if Kit knows how many?
The thought comes quickly, and I smirk as I push it away. Game time isn’t for thoughts about anything but the game.
During the next run on the ice, a guy on the opposing team, Brance, hip-checks me. It’s unnecessary contact as I’m nowhere near the puck.
“Fuck off, fourth liner,” I say, shoving him as I skate past. There’s nothing wrong with being on the fourth line. They’re a needed part of the team, allowing the other lines time to rest. But Brance is a veteran in the sport, probably should have retired a season or two ago. He rarely scores now and is more of a menace than anything. Some guys are goons from the start, but Brance wasn’t. He was a goal maker. Turning into a pest before retirement is a hell of a way to go out and it’s not the path most would choose.
“You fuck off, slut,” he bites back, and I laugh while in my pursuit of the puck.
We don’t score any more in the period, but neither does the other team. They do tie it up in the second, however, and we head into the final period with a clear directive.
Score.
Brance continues to dog me every time we’re on the ice together. Who knows why he has such a hard-on for me tonight. There isn’t always a clear reason. It’s hockey, there doesn’t need to be anything more than they’re currently losing. I can’t say how many times a little fight made the difference in boosting your team’s morale enough to go on and score a goal.
I sweep check their winger and gain control of the puck, pumping my legs down the ice to their net. Brance is hot on my heels until Fane flies in and ties him up, allowing me the breakaway I need.
There are a few high anxiety moments in hockey. Breakaways are one. Even if the net is guarded by the goalie, like now. Orif he’s been pulled in favor of an extra player on the ice, you’re desperate to get the puck in and you know every eye in the arena is on you. And you alone.
This time, luck is on my side. The puck gets the height and speed I need for it to sail past their goalie’s shoulder and fly into the net.
Nerves rattle me as I prepare to walk into the family room. It’s not my family I’ll be seeing. It’s Wylder’s. It’s the family I once hoped to be mine.
I know the reality of the situation; there’s no delusion on my end. That’s not the problem. My issue is that it’s the first time seeing Isla and Sadie since before she got back together with Cillian. If I let any of my emotions come to the surface, what happens then?
Is Cillian still going to be understanding? Does it push my position with the team to the outskirts of the inner circle? Most importantly, I don’t want to confuse Sadie.
From the way the guys all chatter in our downtime, it’s clear they’re all close to the Wylder family. Like me, they’re as enamored with Cillian’s daughter as I always was. I don’t want to be the lone player that can’t be around as much because his personal issues get in the way.
Isla and Sadie were never meant to be mine. My head is clear on that. I’m not sure I can trust my heart to understand it yet.
Steeling myself, I push through the door. Before I can scan the room for them, Sadie is running toward me.
“Tyson!”
“Hey, shorty,” I say, catching her in my arms as she vaults herself at me.
