Page 127 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
Final score: 6-1. It’s not even close.
In the locker room afterward, the energy is electric. Guys are laughing, sharing stories from the game, celebrating like we just accomplished something special. And maybe we did.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Beck shouts, still buzzing with adrenaline. “This is how we protect each other! How we play as a team!”
Silas finds me by my stall, working the kinks out of his shoulder where Kane caught him.
“Thanks,” he mutters.
“Don’t mention it.”
“No, I’m serious. You could have just fought him right away, like you usually do. But you waited. You made it about the team, not just your temper.”
I look at my brother, this thoughtful guy who sees everything and says little. His approval means more than any highlight or stat sheet.
“You’re my brother,” I tell him. “Nobody fucks with family. Nobody fucks with my team.”
He nods. Jett appears, still in full gear except for his mask. “Did you see Kane’s face when he realized the team was ready to go? Beautiful.”
“We’re getting better at this,” I say.
“Yeah. We are.”
We come off the ice, stripping down and debriefing with the trainers. The mood in the locker room is jubilant. It’s contagious. I pad into the media area, and they want to talk about the fight, of course. They always do. They cluster around me, microphones waiting impatiently.
“Hunter, you showed a lot of restraint tonight before that altercation. Can you talk about your mindset?”
“Just playing hockey,” I tell them. “Protecting my teammates when I need to. That’s what this team’s about.”
“Do you feel you’re finding your role within this group?”
I think about it for a second. “Yeah. I think I am.”
Thorne and Beck come in, relieving me and attracting scrums. I move away, spotting Juliet tucked away just outside the press pit. I head toward her eagerly. Even though I know it’s bad, I’m hungry for her after my team’s big win.
I’m still sweaty in my base layers. I know I fucking reek. Waving a hand to stop her, I smirk. “Keep your distance if you don’t want to smell–”
She ignores me, flinging her arms around my neck and kissing me with an intensity that surprises me. When she pulls back half an inch, she looks up at me. “Hell of a game, Hux.”
Holy hell. If I wasn’t hard for her when she kissed me, I was fully erect now. It’s more than a little uncomfortable because I’m wearing a cup, but I ignore that. I cup her face, wanting to drink her in, consume her, any way I could get her.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I breathe. “I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight you won’t walk right for a week.”
Juliet laughs. “Is that a threat, Hunter Huxley?”
“Nope.” I kiss her lips again because she’s so mouth-watering. “A promise. I can’t wait to find out what color panties you’re wearing.”
She flushes. “Who says I’m wearing any?”
Fuck me.“Don’t toy with me, Firecracker.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see if I’m telling the truth.” She hesitates, then changes the subject. “You didn’t take the bait tonight. Kane was all over you for two periods and you just... played hockey. Until he went after Silas.”
“He’s my brother.”
“I know.” She reaches up, her small hands smoothing over my chest. “That’s what made it perfect. You weren’t fighting because you lost control. You were fighting to protect someone you care about.”
Before I can respond, she pulls me down and kisses me. Fast, intense, full of passion. This is real, hungry, like she didn’t get enough of me a minute ago. When we break apart, I’m breathing harder than I was after the fight.
