Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Jami Davenport

Coach Garf stopped in front of my locker with a huge grin on his face. “I knew you had it in you.”

  I met his gaze, feeling an odd lump in my throat.

  He’d believed in me when no one else had.

  Well, except for Naomi. She’d always believed in me.

  21

  Hat Trick

  Naomi

  Paxton was hot, and I was ecstatic for him.

  I leapt to my feet, yelling at the top of my lungs, drawing sour looks from the home team fans around us. Paxton had stolen the puck and taken it to the net with one minute left. My dad rose to his feet and clapped. Even he was smiling.

  “That’s his third?” asked one of the guys down from us.

  “Incredible.”

  “Maybe the twins changed places tonight?” another asked.

  “I doubt it,” said another.

  I ignored them, holding back on my inclination to dress them down. The game ended a minute later, and I followed my dad to the locker room area. He’d expect me to go to dinner with the group, but I wasn’t going. Not tonight.

  Tonight was about Paxton and me.

  I had to talk to him. I’d thought this through most of the night.

  In some ways, his superior play tonight made things more difficult. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I switched allegiances because he’d outplayed his brother. Truthfully, I’d probably switched allegiances long before I recognized my preference, and perhaps longer ago than that epic night I’d spent with Paxton. I burned for more of those nights.

  “Paxton was on fire,” I said, making conversation and boosting his street cred with my dad.

  “Every player has a good night once in a while. It’s maintaining that high level that separates the men from the boys.”

  I looked away from my dad and rolled my eyes. He was as sold on Patrick as Patrick’s own dad was. Neither of them gave Paxton any credit for improving his play.

  “Pax has been working hard with the new assistant coach. It shows.”

  My father stopped in his tracks and so did I. He turned to look at me, his brows knitted together. “Is there something you aren’t telling me? Because I thought you and Patrick were a thing? He’s perfect for you, and I couldn’t pick a better son-in-law.”

  Son-in-law? Exasperated, I threw up my hands. “Dad, we’re not even dating. It’s a little early to marry me off. You might want to cancel the order for the wedding cake and flowers.”

  “But I thought you were interested in Patrick?” My dad frowned, disappointment etched on his face, and I hated that. I’d spent most of my life, with the exception of a few rebellious teenage years, trying to please him.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Nothing complicated about it. Patrick is perfect for you, and you’re perfect for him.”

  “How so, Dad?”

  “Do I really have to explain it?”

  “I think you do, because I’m not sure how you’re more certain about what I need than I am.”

  He heaved an exasperated sigh. “You’re too close to the situation to see what I see. Besides, honey, listen to your father. I know what’s best for you.” His tone went from condescending to cajoling in five words or less.

  “I’m not a child anymore, Dad. I do know what’s good for me.”

  He patted me on the shoulder as if I were a wayward puppy he’d found wandering the streets. “Trust me on this one. I do know how important it is to have the right partner. You’ll understand the trials Patrick faces and have the tools to deal with his absences. Your mom didn’t have those tools.”

  I flinched at his criticism of my mother, even though I knew he was right. I recalled the constant fighting and accusations when he was home. My mom’s claims he was seeing other women and his claims of her drinking too much. I’d often wondered if she’d been drinking the night she’d been hit. If she had, it’d been hushed up by the small-town police department.

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Dad gave me a quick hug. He wasn’t great at displays of affection, but he did love me. I knew that.

  “I want you to invite Paxton to join us for dinner tonight.”

  My father opened his mouth to protest, then seemed to think better of it. “Of course. If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” I had the distinct impression I might be unwittingly setting a trap for Paxton, and perhaps I hadn’t done him any favors by insisting he tag along. What’s done was done. I’d make the best of it and attempt to run interference if necessary.

  We walked a few blocks to a pizza place. Mr. Graham insisted on picking up the bill for the first time, probably because we were eating pizza, not steak. He came back with a couple pitchers of beer and four glasses. Cheap bastard.

  Patrick grabbed one of the pitchers and poured himself a beer. He chugged it down and poured another. I didn’t blame him. He anticipated an ass chewing by his father. Hopefully, my dad’s presence tempered Mr. Graham’s wrath.

  I was halfway wrong. The twins’ dad didn’t go after Patrick. Instead, as soon as he settled in his seat, he turned the full force of his fury on Paxton.

  “What the fuck were you showboating like that for tonight?” Mr. Graham barely waited until we were seated at the table before lighting into Paxton. To his credit, he didn’t shy away from his dad’s harsh words. He looked him straight in the eye with an unfazed expression, infuriating his dad even more.

  Pax had just played the game of his career against a very good team, and his father was pissed at him for outshining his brother? What the fuck was wrong with that man?

  “Showboating? The coach doesn’t think I’m showboating. He was happy with my performance.”

  “You were showing off for the Sockeyes scout and making your brother look bad in the process.”

  “Was I? Did I do that to you, Patrick?”

  Patrick shrugged, unwilling to participate in this conversation.

  I chanced a glance at my dad. He scowled and rubbed his temples, as if the family drama gave him a headache. For once I agreed with him. Dad cleared his throat, and the entire table’s attention turned to him. When my dad spoke, you listened. Mr. Graham leaned forward, expecting my father to back him up.

  “The boy merely played his game. He had an exceptional night. Happens to any player at some point in time where they play beyond their abilities because the stars align or whatever. Congratulations on the hat trick, Paxton.” My father thought he was helping, but he wasn’t. Paxton’s jaw tensed. My dad had just thrown some shade Pax’s way and added to the Graham family tension.

  I elbowed my dad, but he was oblivious as usual.

  Patrick ignored all of us. He threw back his second beer and poured another.

  “Thank you, Mr. Smith,” Paxton said, not giving much away in his expression. He didn’t fool me. He was damaged by his father’s callous attitude.

  Mr. Graham sulked and wisely kept his mouth shut. My dad filled the friction-laden silence by regaling everyone with stories about his playing days, but I wasn’t sure anyone was listening. Patrick slumped down in his seat, while Paxton studied the wall.

  The twins wolfed down the pizza once it was delivered and bolted for the door. I followed them. All three of us were anxious to get the fuck out of there. I deserted my dad, leaving him to deal with Mr. Graham. Dad would be able to handle him better than anyone.

  Patrick split off from us and jogged across the street to where some teammates had gone.

  “Go ahead and join them. I’m not great company.” Paxton managed a mirthless smile.

  “I’d like to buy you a drink to celebrate. You were awesome tonight.”

  “But wouldn’t you rather be with Patrick?” He stopped on the sidewalk and faced me. I smiled up at him, but he regarded me suspiciously.

  “I’m right where I want to be.” Tucking my arm through his, I turned toward the hotel. I tugged on him to follow me. He hung back for a moment, then fell into step beside me.

  I’d made my choice. Now to convin
ce Paxton.

  22

  Taking Chances

  Paxton

  My night so far had more ups and downs than a roller coaster, and the ride wasn’t over yet. With a combination of reluctance and anticipation, I allowed Naomi to lead me into the hotel pub.

  Perhaps she was merely rescuing me from another round with my dad. I’d dodged a bullet when Mr. Smith defended me, even though he backhandedly insulted me, too. I’d show them tonight wasn’t a fluke. I was a damn good player, and I was only now beginning to realize my potential.

  I tried not to read any more into this than two friends hanging out. While Naomi snagged a booth for us, I ordered two virgin margaritas at the bar. I didn’t know if the message would be lost on her or not. We’d met at our first campus party as freshmen and gotten soused together on margaritas at a fiesta-themed frat party.

  I set the drinks on the table and slid onto the seat across from her. Naomi’s slow smile warmed my heart as she noted my drink of choice. Something was different about her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Whatever I picked up on gave me hope.

  “That was a good night,” she said, referring to that frat party over two years ago.

  “It was.” I didn’t say more for fear of humiliating myself further when it came to her. What I felt hadn’t faded despite my efforts to squelch my emotions where she was concerned. No matter how many times she knocked me down, I kept coming back for more.

  She held up her drink, and I did the same. “To many more nights like tonight.”

  “Hear, hear.” Whether she was referring to my game performance or our being together, I hadn’t a fucking clue. I wished it were both. “I just hope I can do a repeat, and it wasn’t a one-off.”

  “That’s your dad talking. Don’t listen to him. He has his own selfish agenda, and what’s best for his boys isn’t part of it.”

  “It’s hard after years of negative programming. I’m working on it.”

  “I hear you. I’ve had similar programming being the unwanted daughter who should’ve been a son and not having one ounce of athletic talent. Dad would trade me in for a different model if it were possible.”

  “That’s not true, Omi. Your dad loves you. He might have an odd way of showing it, but I have no doubt that you’re important to him.”

  “I know.” She ducked her head as if ashamed of her lack of faith in her father.

  “My dad, on the other hand, has no such predilections. He sees dollar signs and status when he looks at Patrick and, to a lesser extent, me.”

  She didn’t deny what I said. After all, my dad was who he was, and we both knew it.

  “I can handle my dad being an ass. It’s Patrick’s attitude I’m struggling with.”

  “It has to be hard for him. He’s always been the center of attention and pretty secure in who he is and who you are.”

  “And lately I’ve been somebody else.”

  “Yes, give him time. He’ll come around. He loves you.”

  I nodded grimly. “Let’s change the subject,” I said. Talking about my family depressed me, but I was about to switch to another topic just as uncomfortable. Resisting Naomi and pretending I didn’t care wasn’t working all that well for me, and I had to get something straight with her. I had to know. “I saw you last night in this very bar having what appeared to be an intimate convo with my brother.”

  Her head snapped up and her pretty mouth formed a perfect O. “You did?”

  “Yeah, I did. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go across the street to be with him? I wouldn’t hold it against you. I don’t need your pity or anyone else’s. I’m doing this thing on my terms no matter how much grief Dad and Patrick give me.”

  “I’m where I want to be.” She reached across the table and grasped my hand in both of hers.

  I stared at our interlinked fingers and swallowed hard. Naomi wasn’t a cruel person, but she sure as fuck was torturing me right now whether she realized the effect she had on me or not. “Naomi, I—”

  She held up her hand to stop me. “Hear me out first, okay?”

  I nodded warily, reluctant to get hurt any more deeply than I’d already been. Here came the we’re just friends lecture and please don’t read any more into my fondness for you.

  I braced myself, certain I was going to get my heart stomped on one more time.

  “That intimate conversation you witnessed…”

  “Yeah?” My voice was husky with emotion, and I cleared my throat, embarrassed I was showing too much and making myself vulnerable. Naomi squeezed my hand and smiled at me with kindness in her eyes. Other emotions shone there, too. Did I dare hope? Was it desire? Or something more lasting? Or just mere friendship my hungry mind was interpreting as something else?

  “Was Patrick and me getting things straight.”

  “What kinds of things?” I held my breath and waited for her answer. She clenched my hand, but I didn’t point out my circulation was being cut off. Instead, I hid my other hand under the table because it was shaking. My heart slammed against my ribs like a caged animal trying to break out of captivity. I’d held it under wraps for too long with the exception of one misplaced night, which forever lived in my dreams and a few partial encores.

  “I’ve changed, too, Pax. For the longest time, I didn’t know what I wanted on several fronts. I’ve been so confused. The majority of my life, I tried to be what everyone else wanted me to be, or what I thought they wanted. If I skated, I’d be playing women’s hockey and most likely hating every minute of it. Don’t get me wrong, I love watching the sport, but I’m not a competitive person and never will be.”

  I nodded, afraid to speak because my voice would crack.

  “I crushed on Patrick because my dad wanted that for me. Really for him. After observing the girls Patrick dated, I imitated them with too-high heels, blonde hair, tight clothes. Only that’s not me.” She pointed to her chest. “This is me. Jeans, T-shirt, comfortable shoes, understated, no cleavage.”

  “I did like the cleavage,” I joked to break some of the tension. Naomi swatted my chest with her free hand. On a whim, I grabbed her hand and held it next to our other clasped hands.

  “What you saw last night wasn’t what it seemed.”

  “Then what was it?”

  “I told Patrick I wasn’t interested. That’s the intimate conversation you witnessed. He’d asked me out several times, and I hedged, always having an excuse, until I finally came to terms with where I am right now.”

  “And where are you at right now?”

  “A little confused, but not as much as I was.”

  “And what does that mean?” I was wary, and who could blame me?

  “It means…” She looked at our joined hands, swallowed, and met my gaze. “It means I want to explore this thing between us.”

  I didn’t believe what I was hearing. Even though her words weren’t a declaration of love, they were the next best thing, and I’d take them. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I haven’t been able to get beyond the night we spent together. In fact, that entire night, deep down I think I knew you weren’t Patrick. You two are really quite different.”

  “Thank you.” I lifted one hand to my mouth and kissed her knuckles.

  “Can we start over?”

  “In what way?”

  “Maybe we could date. See where things go.”

  “Are you asking me out?”

  “Yes, I guess I am.”

  “Okay, sure, as long as you’re buying,” I quipped. A slow smile of pure joy crossed my face.

  “I’d be glad to buy whatever you’re selling.”

  Now she was talking my language. My body felt a hundred pounds lighter, as if all the burdens of the past several years floated upward and dissolved into the atmosphere. I closed my eyes for a moment, attempting to absorb and savor every joyous emotion. When I opened them, she was still there, beaming at me with a smile brighter than a spotlight on the ice.

  “I’ll want a bi
g steak.”

  “You got it, Pax.” Steak wasn’t half of what I wanted, but we’d take it one day at a time.

  “Our dads won’t be happy about this, and neither will Patrick. He’s used to getting who and what he wants.”

  “They’ll have to get over it. Patrick doesn’t care. He never wanted me. He was doing what the dads wanted and getting one over on you, I suspect.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  “So, we’re going to give us a shot?”

  “Sure.” I tried to tamp down my enthusiasm. She wasn’t exactly declaring her undying love or committing to anything long-term. I played it cool, too.

  “Let’s see where it goes.”

  I nodded my agreement. Both of us had baggage, and we also had parents and my brother to deal with. Despite all the obstacles, seen and unseen, my heart was singing love songs, and my body was prepping for another late-night marathon session, most likely premature.

  I’d built up a measure of pride and confidence over the past few months, and I would go into this with my eyes wide open. Anything could happen, and I’d roll with the punches.

  For now, I’d bask in the glow of knowing Naomi was mine even if only for a little while.

  23

  Sensible Flats

  Naomi

  That went well.

  And I was walking on air in my sensible flats.

  Pax and I were going on an official date. Even better, he was open to exploring this thing between us. My only regret was taking so long to make a decision, especially when my heart had made it long before my head.

  After hanging out in the bar for another half hour, it was curfew. Pax walked me to the door of the hotel room I shared with Kaitlyn when we were on the road. We stood outside the door, reluctant for the night to end. Paxton’s gaze was hungry and so was mine.

  “I wish I could invite you in, but Kaitlyn…”