Page 42 of Lucky Hit

TWENTY

OAKLEY

"This fucking sucks," I grumble again. The buzzer sounds, signalling the third consecutive Saint's loss in the past two weeks.

"I know, but it's only for another two and a half weeks. Then you can start practicing with the team again. Try and think positive," I hear Ava reassure me from her seat in between Morgan and me.

"Don't you think I've been trying that?" I accidentally snap at her, my words spilling out before I have a chance to stop them.

Her hurt expression is like a knife to the side. As much as I try to remind myself that she's just trying to help, her overbearing need to always see the cup half full is starting to drive me crazy.

"Hey, asshat. Knock it off. Maybe if you weren't such a baby she wouldn't have to console you all the damn time," Morgan seethes. She grabs Ava's hand and yanks her out of her seat. "We're going home. Find your own ride home."

Before I get a word in, Morgan has already dragged Ava into the sea of people who, just like them, want to get out of here as fast as possible.

"Dammit." I drag my good hand down my face, scratching at the beard that's starting to cover my jaw. I wanted to shave it off when the scruffy stubble began to morph into a full-on beard, but Ava insisted that she liked it, so I kept it.

It's no secret that I've been letting my temper show more often than I should, specifically towards the one person I never wanted to see it. It kills me to know that she's upset with me, especially with how understanding she's been about this whole thing. Morgan is right. I am a giant baby.

Dragging my ass out of my seat, I head to the parking lot and wait for Matt to come out and beg him to drive me and my shit attitude home. With my old ride no doubt dragging my name through the mud to my girlfriend, he's my last hope.

"You're lucky you're my bro. Morgan is going to kick my ass when she finds out I gave her current enemy a ride," Matthew states as he starts up his F-150 a few minutes later.

"Thanks again, dude. I appreciate it," I say again, leaning back in the seat with a sigh.

"Don't mention it. But a word of advice. Knock it off. Every girl has her limit, and if I know anything, it's that you don't want to reach it."

It's not like I don't already know this, but I appreciate it nonetheless. I nod my head once. I stay quiet and listen to the music softly playing from the speaker system the whole way to the girls' apartment.

OCTAVIA

"That boy needs a good ass whooping for talking to you like that. I would have done it myself but there were too many witnesses!" Morgan shouts, waving her arms around theatrically as we sit on the couch in our living room.

A rerun of some home improvement show is playing on the television, but neither of us pays attention.

"It's so frustrating," I admit at last. "I've been as understanding as I possibly can be. I just don't know what more Oakley wants from me."

Huffing, I throw my head back against the armrest. I've been listening to him complain about not playing because I understand where he's coming from. Hockey is his life, and I know he's struggling. I couldn't imagine having my passion ripped away from me. But I'm also not an emotional punching bag.

Morgan nods her head fervently. "I'm going to kick his ass the next time I see hi—" A knock on the front door cuts her off. "Perfect! Speak of the devil, and he shall appear!" she yells excitedly, looking through the peephole in the door.

I jump up from my spot on the couch and grab her shoulders before she can rip Oakley a new one.

"Go to your room. I can take care of this," I say gently and push her down the hallway to her room. After a few seconds of fighting, she huffs and crosses her arms.

"Fine, I'll go. Just shout if you need me. I have my own boyfriend to yell at right now." Uh oh.

I unlock the door and pull it open to reveal a very sullen looking Oakley—his mouth set in a frown. The sight of him makes me want to wrap my arms around him and hold him close, but I don't.

"Before you say anything, I want to start by giving you these." He pulls out a bouquet of white roses from behind his back and holds them out to me.

I can't fight off the small smile that spreads across my lips. "Thank you."

My thanks must help relieve some of his nerves because his lips turn up slightly, and a slight pink flush covers his cheeks.

"The main reason I'm here is to apologize. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that earlier, and I definitely shouldn't have been so hard on you these past couple of weeks. I like you so much and I don't want to do anything to damage that." He bites his bottom lip as he waits anxiously for my answer.

"It's okay. I just want to help, is all. I don't mean to overstep."

---