Page 40 of Fresh Ice
Levy faked a shot as one of the Ghosts threw himself on the ice between Levy and Alonso to try and stop the pass, but he was too late. Levy saucered the puck to Alonso, who one-timed it straight into the top right corner.
The goal horn sounded along with the roar of the crowd as Levy and Killer crashed into him.
“That was fuckingsharp,” Levy shouted into Alonso’s face. “Killer, my man, what a pass.”
Killer popped his mouthguard out and gave them a gap-toothed smile. “I knew you kids would take care of it.”
Alonso let the rest of the team press them into the boards, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Levy. He could almost feel the future stretching in front of them, hundreds of plays just like that waiting for them to arrive.
**********
Levy barrelled into the living room, slamming into Alonso as he threw himself on the couch.
Alonso was startled into a laugh. “What the hell?” he whined, pushing Levy away.
“Dude, you’re in an article inThe Athletic.”
Despite Levy’s wide smile, dread tightened in the pit of Alonso’s stomach. “Please don’t tell me you read stuff about us. Even I know not to do that.”
“I know, I know, but my mom sent me this one. It’s good. Here, let me read you what they said about you.” Levy raised his phone.
Alonso gripped Levy’s wrist. “Wait.”
Levy leaned away from Alonso, holding his phone protectively. “Dude, just shut up and let me.”
Even if itwassomething positive about Alonso, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. The team was doing pretty badly—Alonso didn’t deserve praise.
Levy went on before he could protest further. “Despite what the Gotham Hounds’ position in the rankings might suggest, they have two bright spots on the team. Out from the AHL and OHL respectively have emerged two star rookies.”
“Two bright spots,” Alonso mumbled awkwardly.
Levy ignored him and went on. “Half of the wonder duo everybody has been talking about is Alonso Dolivo, currently playing centre on the third line, although many have been asking why he hasn’t been moved up yet.”
A rush of possessive, ferocious pleasure ran through Alonso at the fact that he and Levy were regarded as a unit. He couldn’t even imagine what his dad would say about that reaction—he was supposed to do things on his own. When his career was over, his achievements should be credited to him and not as part of a pair.
Despite those lessons, Alonso felt nothing but satisfaction at the thought of being tied to Levy—of doing something great for this teamtogether.
Levy kept on reading. The article assessed the Calder eligibility of that year’s rookies—seeing who would win the ‘best rookie of the year’ award. The writer talked about Alonso’s ability to get into the dirty areas on the ice and finish plays instead of letting them die out like the Hounds were prone to.
“He is a natural goal-scorer with a shoot-first mentality. Even though his attempts don’t always pay off, his determination to take scoring onto himself is something the Hounds sorely need,” Levy finished. His eyes were shining, his smile wide as he finally lifted his head. “Fucking good, huh?”
Alonso felt his cheeks heating up now that Levy was staring directly at him. “What does it say about the other half of the wonder duo, eh? You’ve got to be in the article too.”
Now it was Levy’s turn to look bashful. “Nah, not much.”
“Let me read it, then. If you get to do a dramatic re-enactment of my bit, I get to do one for yours. It’s the rules,” Alonso teased.
“Well, I’ve already read mine, so—” Levy yelped as Alonso yanked the phone from his hand.
“Too slow,” Alonso cackled.
Levy went after it, pressing Alonso into the side of the couch, Levy practically in his lap.
The mood shifted in an instant. Alonso’s laughter trickled away as he realised how close his face was to Levy’s. They were breathing the same air, warm and filled with Levy’s scent.
Alonso wanted to kiss him so badly it was like a physical ache.
It only lasted for a few seconds, Levy pulling away.
