Page 78 of Blindside Sinner

I nod. “We’ve been working hard. I’m actually on my way to practice right now.”

He nods as he hands my license back and smiles. “Alright then. You just remember to save all your speeding for the ice, got it?”

“You bet, officer.” As he walks back to his cruiser, I put the window up and drive away.

I’m dressed and on the ice already when Dix skates out. Best friend or not, if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut today, I’m going to shut it for him.

But of course, he doesn’t keep his mouth shut.

We’re doing line sprints when Dixon skates past me and slaps the back of my leg with the blade of his stick. “What’s the matter, buddy? Your girlfriend keep you up late last night?”

I shake my head and ignore him. Head down. Sprint back to the other side.

He’s still cracking jokes when we get there. “Uh-oh, sounds like that’s a no. You got one stuck in the chamber? Need a few minutes alone with a tissue and some lotion in the locker room?”

“Fuck off, Dix.”

“Bet you wish you could.” He purses his lips like the world’s ugliest Kardashian. “But you ain’t my type, I’m afraid. I prefer women withclass.Like, oh, I dunno… Sloany Bear, maybe.”

He cackles again, then takes off back down to the far end of the ice. I chase after him. “Come here, you little bastard, so I can shove that stick up your ass. I’ll make a fucking popsicle out of you.”

I’ve got one hand extended, ready to wring his neck, but just before I can close my fingers around his windpipe, he fakes left, goes right, and floats just out of reach.

Asshole.

We repeat the same routine for another half-dozen sprints before I hear Coach’s whistle blaring.

“What the hell is the matter with you two?” he roars.

I just scowl at Dix, and he just laughs harder. “Beck’s got his jockstrap in a twist over his assistant,” he says loud enough for half of Seattle to hear.

This time, I’m lightning fast. I lunge forward and clamp him in a headlock. This little smartass isn’t going anywhere now.

I drop a glove and am about to pound him in his thick skull when Colin and Adrian pull me off. Dix is still laughing as they separate us.

“I don’t know what the problem is,” Adrian warns, “but you two need to figure it out.”

Dix makes a mocking apology face. “I’m sorry I made you cry, Becky.”

“Motherfu—” I lunge again and this time, Adrian shoves me back while Colin pushes Dixon away and puts his big body between us.

Coach whistles again. “That’s enough, you two! You either kiss and make up or you’re both riding the bench this week.”

We scowl, but neither of us says a word.

“What are the rest of you all looking at? Sprints!” Coach blows the whistle again and we’re back to skating line to line and back and forth up the ice. “And I’m adding ten more. You can thank these two lovebirds for your sore muscles.”

He wasn’t lying. Instead of drills, we spend the rest of practice hauling ass line to line. But it barely puts a dent in my rage.

I hit the showers and get dressed. I can’t get out of there fast enough. I drive home like I’m hoping for a Formula 1 career if this hockey thing doesn’t work out. Although this time, I pay attention to hidden police cars and anything with flashing red lights.

When I walk into the house, it looks like she’s not here. I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed about that.

And then she slams the door open and storms in like she’s summoning thunder.

She stops across the room, her fists parked on her hips. “You left. You just…left.” Her eyes flash, ever more expressive with each notch of anger she climbs.

“Well,” I drawl, “they don’t hold practice at my house so I didn’t have a choice. As my assistant, I would think you would be excited that I can find my own way to the rink. More time for you and the good doctor to canoodle.”

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