Page 2 of Rebel Bride
Carter had been three years ahead of me at Michigan, senior to my freshman, so we played together briefly back in the day, sometimes vying for the same position. A trust funder who didn’t need to play hockey, he was a decent left-winger yet acted like he could happily give it up any day if he chose. That attitude was only one of the things about him that pissed me off.
“We’ll see how Coach wants to play it.” Seemed I could throw some shade of my own.
“So you are gunning for me!”
What was I supposed to say? Don’t worry, man, we’re not in competition every time that roster is posted?
“Better watch your back, Carter,” Jakey said with a wink at me.
“I’ll leave now,” I said, “and you guys can bitch about me when I’m gone.”
“Starting the text thread now. ‘KJ puts C-Dog on notice.’ That’s Kershaw Junior.”
NoBo shook his phone with a laugh but sent me a look of approval as I walked away. I got the impression Carter wasn’t a locker room fave, which pleased me more than it should have. He certainly wasn’t a favorite of mine, and it wasn’t only because of his smack-talkin’ attitude.
Finally, I made it to the hallway where the restrooms were located, but before I could enter, my phone buzzed with a text from Rosie.
Congrats, friend! Finally where you belong.
That made me smile. Rosie and I had grown up together and were inseparable as kids. I’d pulled her pigtails, she’d kicked me in the nuts, that kind of thing. She and my sister were best friends, currently on a round-the-world trip and lapping up the rays on some Greek island. I kind of wished I was there with them.
Me
It's a good move.
Rosie
It is. This is going to be a great year for the Rebels.
I hoped so. That moment with Carter reminded me that I would have to put my head down, ignore everything happening off the rink, and focus on my game. Nothing else mattered. Not the press, not my imaginary competition with Carter.
Not the woman coming toward me now.
For someone so petite, it constantly surprised me that Summer Landry would have such an outsize impact. After all, she was just another WAG, so I shouldn’t have cared that all five foot three inches of girl-next-door, violet-eyed blonde seemed to light up every room or that the sight of her changed the air around me.
Assistant to Rebels GM, Ryder Calloway, she was one of those sunny girls who was friends with everyone. That was probably why I hadn’t warmed up to her: she was far too nice for someone like Carter, who treated her like a trophy. And because of that—because I could see her taking the shit he shoveled with a perky smile and an indulgent “oh, Dash!”—I assumed she was your standard gold-digging puck bunny. She met players every day, could get anyone she wanted, so why else would she choose that dick? It certainly wasn’t his personality.
Today she wore a peach-pink sundress with thin straps that revealed perfectly rounded shoulders and a hint of cleavage. I had at least a foot on her, and this close, I felt like I was looming over her like a fairytale ogre.
I made to move around her, but she stopped right in the center of the corridor, forcing me to pull up short. In the dim light, she shone like a beacon, and I hated that for this one brief moment, I loved the feeling of being bathed in her glorious, fucking glow.
“Hatch! I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you. Welcome to the Rebels!”
“Thanks,” I muttered. Please carry on.
“You must be psyched to play with your dad. We love him so much. If we could clone him, we would, so maybe you’re the next best thing!” She laughed at this incredibly funny joke she’d made.
“I’m not my dad.”
Her face fell, thinking she’d offended me. Had she? Not really, but I didn’t mind letting her think so. Anything to get away from her.
She grasped my arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that how it came out. I just wanted to—well, you know …”
“Sure.” I inched forward, clueing her in that I needed to pass. Her hand was still on my arm, her fingertips searing my skin, her floral scent curling into my lungs. I had a sudden urge to lift her against the wall and shut her well-meaning mouth with my own.
She dropped her hand.
The madness passed.
