The game played out in front of us, everyone making comments here and there. Megan was pretty into it, but occasionally Lyla and Whitney would lean over her and talk to me about other things like classes or this dueling piano bar they liked to go to. They promised to call the next time they went to Howl at the Moon so that I could go along and check it out for myself.
Our food came halfway through the first period. The team onscreen was undeniably good, and they scored several points on the team they were playing.
I moved the ketchup bottle that Ryder kept pushing my way as a joke back toward him and then said, “Watch their second line. Everyone’s so focused on the wingers and the forward, but then that D-man comes through, and…boom. Pass and score.”
Ryder leaned forward, his forearms braced on his knees. “Hey, back that up.”
Beck rewound it and Ryder pointed out what I’d seen.
“Man, I didn’t even see him,” Beck said.
“Lindsay’s the one who noticed,” Ryder said, and then the spotlight landed on me once again.
“I didn’t see it the first time. I just happened to notice him on the outskirts.” Mostly because his last name belonged to one of my exes in high school and I was trying to figure out if he was one and the same, but I wasn’t about to admit that. And I was sure it wasn’t Brian, for the record. The record in my head, anyway.
The guys immediately started breaking down the play and made up a game plan for how to stop it. A few of the guys gave me high fives, like I was part of the team.
Megan raised her fist for a bump. “It was a nice catch.”
Ryder nodded his agreement before kissing my cheek. Then he pressed his lips next to my ear, his signature move for making my thoughts go completely hazy. “There’s something about you analyzing film that’s making me think naughty thoughts.”
I twisted closer and whispered, “I suspect you just think naughty thoughts all the time.”
“About you? Possibly…” The mischievous glint in his eye sent a swirl of desire through me, and when he ran his gaze over me, it spread until my entire body tingled with it.
“Ox, isn’t that that same asshole who was stupid enough to pick a fight with you earlier in the season?” Dane asked. “Number ten from the losing team?”
Ryder slowly glanced toward the screen. “Oh yeah. Glad we won’t see that prick at playoffs, even if that game was a cakewalk.”
Dane leaned over the table and aimed his statement my way. “You should see this guy in action, Lindsay. He wipes the floor with little twerps all the time.”
As much as I was trying to resist, I really wanted to see that. Ryder skating across the ice, slamming into guys and helping our team win. I was about to spontaneously combust just thinking about it. I traced my finger down that enticing line of his forearm. “I have no doubt.”
Ryder covered my hand with his. “Maybe you’ll reconsider your stance and come to our game on Saturday? It’s a big one. First playoff game, and as luck would have it, it’s being played right here in Boston.”
I bit my lip. “Maybe.”
“I’ll take it.”
We watched the rest of the game, the guys talked strategy with help from Megan, who knew more about the game than I did—and after years of watching, that impressed me, even though I shouldn’t have been surprised. She did grow up with Beck, after all.
Everyone threw in money for the bill, and Ryder insisted on paying for me, claiming it was the least he could do after our date turned into hockey practice.
“We should get Lindsay to join us on Sunday,” Whitney said, and I turned toward her. Lyla and Megan were standing next to her.
Megan nodded. “Oh, you totally should.”
“What’s going on Sunday?” I asked.
“Paintball game with the guys,” Whitney said. “Megan and I were talking about how we needed more girls to even it out.”
“I’ve never gone paintballing before. I did have a stepdad who was super into guns and taught me to shoot, but that’s my entire experience.”
“That’s more than enough experience.” Megan reached up and ran her finger down the chain of her earring and then fiddled with the pink heart dangling from it. “I went with Beck a few times when I was younger, but it’s been awhile. Whitney’s never gone, and let’s just say, I think we’re all a little scared to see Lyla wield a weapon.”
Lyla’s mouth dropped open. “Hey!”
Megan nudged her with her elbow. “Kidding.”
“I’m not,” Beck said, coming up behind Lyla and wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m sort of terrified. With her focus, she’ll probably be the last person standing.”
Lyla twisted her head and kissed him. “Be afraid. Very afraid.”
They all turned to me. I felt Ryder behind me and glanced back at him to see if he’d heard and if he had an opinion on the matter.
“I’d love for you to come along.” A smirk twisted his sexy mouth. “You’d get a chance to take out some of your aggression on hockey players.”
“Ha ha.”
Ryder trailed his fingers down my spine, sending that intoxicating zing of awareness through me. “It’ll be fun, I promise. And I know that you and fun have made peace, so…”
Before I could come up with a retort to that, the other guys interrupted to tell us good-bye.
“Good to see you again, Lindsay,” Daniel said, flashing me a warm smile as he gave my shoulder a light pat.
I noticed Ryder’s grip on me tightened, his arm circling around my waist as he pulled me closer. I’d poke fun at him, but I kind of liked that he felt the need to show everyone I was with him. I’d felt the need to do the same whenever I was around the girls at the Quad, and that was before we’d made our enjoy-it-while-we-can arrangement.
“Great catch on that play, too,” Jeff added, and he sounded so genuine, pride rose up. It was nice that some of my hockey observing skills had helped.
I glanced around at the circle of people. None of the awkwardness from when I’d first arrived was there anymore. In fact, a feeling of belonging I hadn’t experienced in a long time filled me. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, considering it made me wonder if I was relapsing. Instead of overanalyzing it, I decided to go ahead and embrace it.
I wrapped an arm around Ryder’s waist. “Okay. I’m in for paintball.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ryder
On second thought, having Lindsay and my dad at the same game seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.
Not that I planned on their paths crossing—and she hadn’t even fully committed, giving me a shaky maybe. But with my luck, if she showed, Dad would somehow know there was a girl out there distracting me the tiniest bit from hockey, and it’d be a disaster.
Thinking about it only added more pressure to the stress of the upcoming game. Our record meant we had a bye for the first round, but now quarterfinals were here, and there was a lot riding on the next sixty minutes of play time. This is it. The game that’ll determine if our season ends early or if we get to keep on playing and fighting for our chance to defend our title.
The game that’ll show Coach that I can stand the pressure of a big game, or make him think twice about his decision to start me.
A wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. I rushed into the bathroom locker room, praying for it to pass. I’d never gotten this nervous before a game.
Sweat formed across my forehead and I was too cold and too hot. Once I was sure my lunch wasn’t going to make a reappearance, I went back out to where the rest of the guys were preparing for the game. Judging from the other pale faces, I wasn’t the only one experiencing higher-than-usual nerves.
“Bro, you look like you’re going to ralph,” Dane said.
“I’m fine,” I said, wiping my forearm across my forehead.
He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Megan just texted. Lindsay’s with them.” Texting right before games was frowned upon—to put it lightly—but D
ane didn’t seem to care about rules very much, and he seemed just as chipper as usual.
She came. She actually came. The pressure weighing me down and turning my stomach into a tangled mess of nerves lifted, even though some of it had been worrying about her. Just having her there would help center me. It meant she cared enough to show, and happiness over that pushed everything else to the background.
For once, I was glad that Dane didn’t care about the rules.
Coach walked in and called our attention to the front of the room, going over strategies and plays. I exhaled, mentally preparing for one of the biggest games of my college career, telling myself this was only the beginning.
…
“That was a close one,” I said, but then I let the grin spread across my face.
Hudson and Dane slammed into me, our helmets rattling as they knocked into each other, and we patted heads and backs.
The air of victory hung in the air, and we basked in it for a few minutes, reliving a couple of our best plays before hitting the showers. I dressed as fast as I could, my thoughts on Lindsay.
Unfortunately, when I exited the locker room, the first person I saw was Dad, front and center, arms crossed. You’d think he’d look happy considering we just won a big game, but the same stern look he always wore hardened his already sharp features.
As the rest of the guys stepped out of the locker room behind me, several girls surged our way shouting their congrats, patting backs, and giving out hugs—and at least one of them was into smacking butts. I pushed past them, muttering “thanks” over and over. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Lindsay standing away from the crowd.
She smiled at me, and my heart soared.
Then a hand came down on my shoulder and I turned to look at my dad.
“A few of those blocks were pretty sloppy, son. You need to be quicker to the corners, too—keep those feet moving.”
I gritted my teeth. “It was a good game. Thanks for noticing.”
The lines in his forehead deepened as he frowned at me. “Are you saying you played your best?”
“No, sir. Just enjoying the fact that we won.”
“Well, if you want to win the next game, much less the championship, you’re going to need to make your blocks count. Give the offense more time to score.”
Hudson, Dane, and Beck didn’t seem to have much problems scoring. They’d put six points on the board. We’d had to fight hard during every single play, but we’d pulled it off, and I just wanted to enjoy the high for a few minutes. To take some time to kiss my girl and properly celebrate our victory before I analyzed everything I could improve on.
“Plus, you let that show-off from the other team score in the last minute,” Dad added.
Let seemed extreme. Yes, he’d slipped past me when his defensive man set a pick and slammed into me, but my teammate had been right there to guard him. The guy had still managed to score, giving them a total of four points. A minute later the clock ran down and we won by two.
The urge to look at Lindsay again was strong, but I knew if I did, Dad would notice. Then that paths-crossing thing I’d been stressing about would happen, and I worried he’d say something mean to Lindsay. No, I knew he would. He’d probably call her a distraction straight to her face, and I wouldn’t blame her if she went back to fleeing in the other direction.
“I thought we could go to dinner,” Dad said.
Refusing would lead to an argument I didn’t want to have. “Sure. I just need a minute. Name a place and I’ll meet you there.”
He hesitated, and I suspected he was about to tell me we should ride together, or that he’d wait right where he was while I wrapped things up here. But by some miracle, he told me to meet him at the steak and seafood place we usually ate at whenever he was in town.
As soon as I was sure he was out of sight, I turned toward where I’d seen Lindsay last.
Just in time to see her retreating figure.
I sprinted through the crowd, doing my best not to bump into people, and failing a couple of times. Finally, I caught up to her. “Lindsay. Wait up.”
She spun around, and I stepped forward and kissed her, the way I’d dreamed about doing the second I walked out of the locker room.
It was like kissing a statue.
“Thanks for coming,” I said. “Sorry it took me so long to get to you.”
She crossed her arms. “I feel like a puck bunny again, standing here waiting for you to just please look my way.”
I grabbed her hand and tugged it free. “Waiting for me hardly makes you a puck bunny, and you know I don’t care about that.”
“I care. I won’t go back. It was hard enough to come to the game, and…” Her voice faltered, and she shook her head.
“Well, I appreciate you crossing into my world for one night to watch me play.” I swiped her hair off her face and rested my hand on the side of her neck. “What did you think of the game, anyway?”
For a couple of seconds I thought she’d hold on to the frustration she was clearly feeling, but then she cracked, a smile touching her lips. “It was amazing. You’re amazing. The way you slam into those guys, and that turnover you forced—”
I pressed my lips to hers, unable to go another second without kissing her. She had no idea how badly I needed to hear that—I didn’t even realize it until she’d said it. It was so damn nice to have someone think I played a good game. Especially this someone, with her big brown eyes and alluring curves and sassy mouth.
I lowered my forehead to hers and memorized her scent and the way she felt in my arms so I could hold on to the memory through the crappy night I was about to have with my dad. “I wish I could take you to the Quad to dance with you and properly celebrate, but I have to go meet my dad for dinner.”
She reached up and circled her hands around my forearms, like she needed to center herself in me as badly as I did in her. “It’s fine. The Quad’s not really my scene anyway.”
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow for paintball, though, okay?”
I worried she’d tell me she’d changed her mind, but then she nodded. She ran her arms up to my shoulders and slipped them behind my neck, bringing her body flush with mine. Then she kissed me, sucking my lower lip into her mouth and making me groan. “Just so you know,” she whispered against my lips, “I plan on taking you down.”
“Just so you know, if you’re doing the taking, I’m down.”
She rolled her eyes, but she laughed.
One more kiss and I reluctantly let her go. A crazy part of me almost suggested she come along—screw what my dad would think.
I reminded myself that having her meet Mom hadn’t exactly gone well, and she was the nicer of the two.
No, I’d have to suffer through one night without Lindsay, and since I didn’t have that many left—especially with the blur of one tournament that would lead to the next looming ahead—that tasted especially bitter.
But tomorrow after that paintball game, I was going to do whatever it took to get her all to myself. Then I’d make sure to make every second of that time count.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ryder
Dinner with my dad last night drained me, and I was looking forward to letting loose and forgetting about hockey for a while. As much as I loved it, sometimes it was nice to think about something else—anything else. Or maybe that was just an effect of spending three hours over dinner discussing strategies and the many, many ways I could improve. There were enough that I began to wonder why a college coach would even start me in the first place.
Dad also informed me that he’d put in a few calls to scouts, and if I played my cards right, and played better than last night—obviously—maybe I’d have a chance to be drafted into the NHL now and just forget about the rest of college.
I didn’t bother mentioning that I wanted to finish out my time at BC and earn my math degree, and the NHL could wait. That was probably a stupid thought. Millions of dollars and a guaranteed spo
t versus finishing a degree I might never use?
Getting drafted might finally get Dad off my back. It’d get me that much closer, anyway. That was if I was even drafted, and that was a big if. Not sure why my brain wouldn’t stop spinning on it.
Maybe because I was also thinking of how hard it’d be to leave my teammates behind. They’d come to feel like a family, one who had each other’s backs, win or lose, but a lot of them would be graduating soon anyway.
Lindsay will help calm all my messy thoughts. I knocked on her door, and she opened it and stuck a hand on her hip.
Shit. Did I already screw up?
“I don’t know what to wear,” she said. “Come to think of it, I don’t know how to play, either. I’m pretty sure this is going to be a disaster. Maybe I should just watch?”
“First of all, good morning.” I drew her to me and kissed her. The tension leaked out of her posture, and she wrapped her arms around me and melted into my embrace, giving me that calming sensation I desperately needed.
“Morning. Guess I should’ve started with that.” She ran her hand down the side of my face and dragged her fingertips along my jaw. “How was dinner with your dad?”
“Torture. I’d much rather talk about you and what you’re wearing.” The tight jeans and purple V-neck that gave me a peek down her shirt showed off her curves nicely. Of course, with curves like hers, everything clung to her in a way that made me want to do the same.
Her hands moved down to my chest, right over my rapidly beating heart. “I missed you this week.” The second she said it, she grimaced, looking like she wanted to take it back. “I mean, I know I saw you for a minute yesterday, and there was watching film together on Thursday, and I totally get that you’re busy, but—”
“I missed you, too.” I kissed her again, parting her lips with my tongue and taking another taste, and when she immediately responded by pressing her body tighter to mine, I almost said Screw the paintball game. I know another fun way to relieve stress.
Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny (Taking Shots) Page 14