Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance

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Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance Page 15

by Jami Davenport


  Noooo.

  I fought for control. Pax didn’t know about my phobia. He’d given me a thoughtful gift based on what he knew about me. I wouldn’t let on how upset I was.

  “Is something wrong?” His smile dropped off his face. I wasn’t doing a good job of concealing my disappointment.

  Preparing myself for the best acting performance of my life, I raised my head and smiled brightly at him. “They’re beautiful, but why did you buy me skates?”

  “I love skating, and I want to share my love with you. We can skate together once in a while. Nothing big, just have some fun on the ice.”

  “Don’t you get enough ice time?”

  “A hockey player never gets enough ice time.” He grinned at me.

  “What did these cost? You can’t afford these.” I picked up one of the skates and turned it over in my hands. I knew enough about skating and quality skates to know these cost a pretty penny. Dalager didn’t make cheap equipment but they did make it to last.

  Paxton screwed up his face and cocked his head at me. “Stop worrying about what I can and can’t afford. It’s demoralizing. I’ll be fine.”

  “But Pax, Dalager skates are the best. And spendy. I can’t accept this gift.” I crossed my fingers and prayed he’d give me an out.

  “Kaitlyn got me a good deal.”

  “Regardless, they’re not cheap no matter what kind of deal.”

  “Let’s drop the money concerns. They’re yours. Do you like them? Kaitlyn helped me figure out the size.”

  I was going to kill Kaitlyn. She knew why I didn’t skate. Why didn’t she have my back and talk him out of this idea? I was an ungrateful girlfriend. The guilt of my ungratefulness smothered me, but I wasn’t going to skate ever, not even for Pax. I’d secretly return them and find a way to get his money back to him. I leaned in and gave him a kiss. “They’re beautiful, but I wish you wouldn’t have.” I made another attempt, but Pax shook his head.

  “All you have to say is thank you.”

  “Thank you, Pax.”

  “I know it’s almost a month away, but I want you to start thinking about something.” He sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulders, so very pleased with himself. My own smile was so fake it hurt my face.

  “About what?”

  “Go to the alumni skate with me the Friday after finals.” The alumni skate was an annual Christmas tradition with the team. Former team members and their significant others were invited back to skate with current members and their SOs. It was actually a big deal. The rink was decorated in Christmas lights, and there was a catered buffet and a bar. I’d never gone, but I’d heard about it. A couple of the WAGs had attended and shown me pictures. They transformed the rink into a literal winter wonderland.

  “I can’t do it,” I said regretfully. I’d love to go with Paxton, but my fear of skating overrode my desire to attend.

  “I’ll hold you up, and we can get some practice time in before then.

  “My dad will be there with his new girlfriend. I won’t humiliate myself and him like that.” I attempted another tactic.

  “This is really important to me.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t go.”

  “Naomi, I need you to go.”

  “I can’t. I can’t get on the ice. I’m scared. Don’t you understand? I can’t do it.”

  He frowned. His entire face fell. “I don’t understand. I’ll help you.”

  “No one can help me,” I wailed and tears streamed down my face. Paxton gaped at me, not getting what the issue was.

  “Naomi, this was supposed to be a happy gift, something we could do together. If you hate skating that much, I’ll return them.”

  “It’s not that I hate skating. I’m scared to death to skate. I have panic attacks whenever I step foot on the ice.” I blurted out the shameful secret about my phobia, and he listened with growing horror on his face.

  “I didn’t know.” He was stricken, and I rushed to comfort him with kisses and gentle words. “It’s okay. I understand. You tried to do something special for me, for us, and I honestly wish I were stronger, but I’m not.”

  “I’ll return these.” His voice rang hollow, and I had to make this up to him.

  “I’ll do it for you. Kaitlyn can help me. It’s the least I can do for all the trouble you went to.”

  I stood and grabbed his hand. “Let me show you what I’d like for my birthday.”

  His face lit up, and he followed me into the bedroom. The skates were soon forgotten as he wished me a happy birthday in the best way possible.

  28

  Surprise Visit

  Paxton

  The skates had been a mistake, and I chastised myself for thinking I had the right to push anyone to do something they didn’t like or enjoy, even if I didn’t realize the depths of her phobia. Naomi didn’t hold the gift against me, and next time I’d stick with jewelry. I didn’t think a guy could go wrong with diamonds.

  Our sex life was epic since our first date almost two weeks ago. I’d never had so much sex in my life. We alternated between nights in my apartment and her dorm room. Patrick didn’t say much when we were there. More often than not, he’d leave and not return until well after we’d fallen asleep. I was a little concerned because I hadn’t seen him crack a book in forever.

  I adored Naomi and dared hope she felt the same way. The mixed messages disappeared, and from where I was standing, she was one-hundred-percent devoted to yours truly.

  She’d taken the skates in order to return them, and we didn’t bring that subject up again.

  We won our away game with Northeastern Friday night. I scored twice, and Patrick didn’t score at all. My brother was having a few off weeks, and I got the distinct impression he blamed me, which I resented. He didn’t come out and say it, but his actions and those scathing glares he sent my way communicated his feelings quite well. Patrick was a good captain, but lately he’d been barking orders indiscriminately, causing the guys to give him the side-eye. No one said anything because we kept winning, but we weren’t gelling as a team, and everyone knew it.

  My father flew in for the weekend, leaving me wondering if he was maxing out a few credit cards this year in order to attend all these games. I knew he didn’t have the money, but his finances were none of my concern. He didn’t contribute a penny to my college education, a fact I was proud of. Naomi’s father, on the other hand, wasn’t present, so I wouldn’t be subjected to dinner out with my family and him. Naomi and I had made plans to get a bite to eat in the hotel cafe and look for a quiet, private place to get some alone time.

  The team spent the night in Boston before being bussed to UConn the next morning.

  I showered and dressed quickly, anxious to see Naomi. I was putting on my shoes when Coach Garf came up to me. “Pax, you have some people here to see you.”

  “I do?” I racked my brain and couldn’t come up with any reason I’d have visitors during an away game.

  Garf’s smile was secretive. “You do.”

  My brother stood nearby, and I caught his surprised expression. He occasionally had a visitor to the locker room, but I did not.

  Garf winked at me and patted me on the arm. “Don’t keep them waiting.”

  I rushed to my feet and grabbed my jacket, heading for the door. I knew, whoever they were, this was big. Nervous yet hopeful, I stepped into the corridor. Unable to contain his curiosity, Patrick was on my heels.

  Several of my teammates were gathered around three men nearby. I stopped dead in my tracks and gaped open-mouthed like a dumb shit.

  It couldn’t be.

  I was seeing things.

  Lex broke off from the group. “You’re so fucking lucky. Can I spend an hour in your shoes just once? They came to see you. Watched the last period of the game.”

  “They did?”

  Lex nodded. “Yeah, you lucky fucker.”

  “Wow, Pax, don’t just stand there.” Patrick gave me a gentle shove toward them. />
  Feeling as if I were in a dream, I stiffly walked forward. The group parted to allow me to join them.

  “Paxton, so good to finally meet you.” The brawny, dark-haired man held out his hand. I shook it, still tongue-tied and in awe. When I didn’t speak, he continued, “I’m Cooper Black of the Seattle Sockeyes. This is Isaac ‘Ice’ Wolfe, and Cedric ‘Smooth’ Petersen.”

  I nodded dumbly. “I…I know who you all are.” My voice cracked like a young boy approaching puberty.

  “Good game tonight, kid.” Smooth clapped me on the back.

  “I’d have a hell of a time defending against your slapshot,” Ice said.

  “Thank…thank you.”

  “If you don’t have plans, we’d like to take you to dinner. Talk to you about the team. Answer any questions you might have.”

  “I’m flattered. I…I’d love to.”

  “We’re in town, played Boston last night and again tomorrow night. Thought we’d take in a college hockey game and check out our top prospect.”

  I was their top prospect? Holy shit. I glanced around for Naomi, wanting her to share this moment with me, but I didn’t see her. Unfortunately, I did spot my father, salivating and hovering nearby. Patrick came around the corner with Naomi. I shot him a smile of gratitude. He’d gone to get her and bring her here. My bro still had my back despite this rough patch.

  I stepped back to include them in the circle. “This is my girlfriend, Naomi. My twin brother, Patrick, and my dad, Donald Graham.”

  “Your family is welcome to join us,” Coop said graciously, including Naomi in his invitation. “It’s the team’s treat.”

  “I never turn down a free meal,” Dad said jokingly. Not that he was joking in the least. He was the biggest mooch I knew. I grimaced at him, but the ass beamed at me like the proud father he sure AF wasn’t.

  “Let’s go then.” Coop clapped me on the back. I grabbed Naomi’s hand and winked at her. She gave my hand a squeeze. We walked to a nice restaurant specializing in steaks and seafood and were escorted to a large table near the back of the room.

  Coop sat next to me with Naomi on the other side, while Smooth and Ice sat across from us, leaving Dad and Patrick on the end. Used to being the center of attention, Patrick sat in shell-shocked silence, as if he’d fallen down a rabbit hole and had no fucking clue where he’d ended up. I felt the same way myself but for different reasons. To be able to share this moment with the two most important people in my life was beyond awesome.

  “My son is excited to be playing for your team next fall,” my father blurted out between bites of the shrimp appetizer.

  “We’re looking forward to having him on the team,” Coop said. “The coaches have given us glowing reports.”

  “Thank you. I’m humbled.” I didn’t need a mirror to know my face flamed beet red. Under the table, Naomi squeezed my thigh and leaned into me. I appreciated the moral support and encouragement.

  “We’re losing a few guys to retirement and looking forward to seeing what you bring to the table.” Ice studied me with an intensity that made me squirm. He was sizing me up, and I hoped I didn’t end up lacking.

  “You have a wicked slapshot,” Smooth said.

  “Paxton has always had a great slapshot thanks to me. I was a player until an injury ended my career. He learned that slapshot from me.” Our father inserted himself into the conversation. Ice, Smooth, and Coop glanced at him, then dismissed him, as if he were insignificant. Just like I’d been dismissed so many times by that man. I mused as to whether or not they’d done any research regarding my dysfunctional relationship with my father and were making known whose side they were on. I’d done a lot of research on my future team. Ice had a more abusive childhood than I’d ever dreamed of having, culminating in his father being convicted of murdering his mother. It didn’t get worse than that.

  Cooper Black was my idol. I’d watched thousands of hours of his games in an attempt to absorb everything he did and how he did it. Like his nickname, Smooth made playing hockey look effortless, even though I knew the effort he expended to play at his level. And Ice, he was legendary as a defenseman. I’d love to go up against him someday. And that someday might be sooner than I’d ever imagined.

  “Do you do this often?” Naomi asked. “I mean visit with prospects?”

  “Sometimes. When the timing works out, which is rare. We firmly believe in the team as family, and we want the right family members. These types of conversations give us a good feel for future teammates and how they’d fit into our current slate of players. Coach Gorst specifically requested we pay you a visit as an added incentive to encourage you to go pro next season. The window of opportunity is open but those slots fill quickly.” Coop swished his whiskey around in his glass and met my gaze. I didn’t look away. They were probing for weakness, and I refused to show them any.

  “We won’t guarantee you’ll make the team next fall, but you have as good of a shot as any of our rookies. Judging by how you’re playing right now, the odds are in your favor if you hold it together.” Smooth was matter-of-fact, not sugarcoating my chances, while Ice sat back, arms crossed over his chest, and watched us interact. He wasn’t drinking anything stronger than water, I noted.

  I sipped my own beer, not wanting to appear like some drunken college boy. I chanced a glance at my brother. He observed everything with an unreadable expression on his face, but I knew him better than anyone. He was tense and upset, and probably even more upset with himself because my being in the limelight bothered him. Patrick was a great guy, an awesome brother, and I loved that guy. We were in a rough patch right now as we both struggled with change, but we’d find our way back to being best friends. I’d bet my favorite pair of skates on it.

  “What can I do to prepare?” I asked.

  The three men exchanged glances, secretly communicating as they once had when they played on the same line.

  Ice was the current team captain, and they deferred to him. “You’re young. What are you? Twenty-one?” His gaze fell on the beer I was about to lift to my lips.

  I set down the beer without taking a sip. “Yes, I’m twenty-one.”

  Patrick leaned forward, eager to hear their words of wisdom. Even my dad shut his mouth and paid attention.

  “All right then. At your age, if you want to have a successful professional career, you have to be in this one hundred and fifty percent. All hockey, all the time. Cut partying to a minimum. Cut out any drama that detracts from your game. Keep personal relationships out of your professional life. Hockey can be all-consuming, and at your age, where you are right now, it has to be. Your personal life needs to take a back seat until you’ve established yourself as an invaluable member of the team.” He directed his gaze toward Naomi. “Sorry, but it’s the truth.”

  “I understand. My dad is Gene Smith.”

  The three men studied her with new respect.

  “Then you really do understand,” Ice said.

  Naomi nodded, almost grimly, which bothered me, but I tried to push that niggling of a bad feeling out of my head.

  Ice turned his attention back to me. “Playing in the pros is the toughest thing you’ll ever do, but the most rewarding. Men will be separated from the boys when they step on the ice in a pro arena. You’ll need to dig deeper than you ever did in your college career. Everyone on the team is just as talented as you are. The game moves at twice the speed. It’ll come down to who wants it badly enough.”

  Just like Coach Garf kept telling me. At the pro level, it was five percent talent and ninety-five percent mental.

  Ice turned to Patrick for the first time. “I understand you were a top draft pick for the Sidewinders.”

  Patrick nodded nervously. My brother was rarely nervous, but Ice was intimidating no matter how you looked at it. He was the best defensemen in the league, known for his stamina, toughness, and unparalleled stick handling.

  “You’re good, kid. You’re both good. I suspect you two have what it tak
es if you want it bad enough.”

  “I do,” Patrick and I said in unison.

  “My boys have never shied away from hard work, just like their old man.” My father puffed up a little. Patrick rolled his eyes, and I grimaced.

  Ice ignored our father but offered no further words of advice as our dinners were delivered. I dug into the best steak I’d ever had, big and juicy and cooked just right. The garlic butter on top was fucking incredible. The baked potato was loaded with sour cream and cheese, and the broccolini was fantastic. We finished the meal off with cheesecake and conversation about hockey, of course.

  After dessert the Sockeyes had to get back to their hotel, and so did Naomi, Patrick, and I. Our dad disappeared into the bar, and we caught a taxi back to the hotel.

  Naomi sat in the middle as a buffer between us, and I held her hand while I tried to digest everything these pros had said to me.

  “Wow, they’re courting you.” Patrick spoke in amazement, as if he didn’t quite believe it. I thought I heard a hint of envy. Imagine that. Patrick the Great envying me.

  His lack of confidence in me was offensive, and I snapped at him. “You’re not the only guy who has a chance at the pros.”

  Patrick narrowed his eyes and leveled a menacing glare at me. As his twin, that glare didn’t work, but he’d had success with it in the past, just not with me.

  “You’re jealous,” I accused him with a smirk, not able to resist rubbing in my triumph.

  “Fuck you.” Patrick grabbed the door handle of the taxi as it rolled to stop and hopped out, stalking into the hotel and leaving me with the cab fare.

  The bastard.

  I paid the man with the last of my cash, and Naomi bailed me out on a tip.

  “Don’t listen to him. He’s grappling with all this shit like you are, and he’s lashing out. Don’t take it personally.”

  “How the fuck else am I supposed to take it?”

 

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