Chapter Thirty-Two
Ryder
I wasn’t sure what happened to us the last half of the third period. Maybe we’d gotten too cocky—my father would certainly think so—but the long and short of it was that if we didn’t get it together, we were going to lose this game. With single elimination, that meant this year’s hockey season would be over before we even made it to the Frozen Four Tournament, and we’d forfeit our title.
I can’t let that happen. I’ve worked too hard—we’ve all worked too hard.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins and my concentration narrowed to the puck and the guy from the opposing team skating toward our goal. Daniel cut him off, the crash of helmets and pads carrying across the ice, and the puck got lost in the shuffle.
But one of his teammates was right behind him, looking to pick up where the other had left off.
I charged, determined not to let that happen. He got the tip of his stick on it, just enough to send it toward another teammate. Without me between him and the goal, there was nothing in his way, and he took full advantage.
He shot, and I held my breath, praying that Barnes, our goalie, could block it.
Barnes stretched forward, but the puck slid in the tiny hole underneath his leg, and Quinnipiac’s lead grew to three points.
As soon as I heard the whistle, I knew I was about to get my ass chewed. Never leave the goal open—it was a cardinal rule. I’d gotten too hungry and abandoned my post.
Sure enough, Coach lit into me and gestured me to the bench.
I needed to catch my breath, but there was a huge difference between needing to and being forced to because you’d screwed up.
My gaze went to the stands, searching for Lindsay’s face.
From this distance, her features were muted, but she still stood out as the prettiest girl in the audience. She mouthed something, but I couldn’t read it. Then she blew me a kiss, like she’d done earlier, when I’d come off the ice for a time-out.
Finally she was coming to my games, and I didn’t want to lose my shit and fall apart. Which was part of why I’d psyched myself out. I’d tried to use her presence and encouragement to center me and motivate me to play better, only then I’d started to think about how attached I was getting to a girl who’d be gone soon.
Then I’d made a few sloppy moves and stupid errors, but couldn’t seem to stop once I’d made one. It didn’t help that I knew Dad was in the stands, recording everything I did wrong.
I’ve got to focus on hockey, no more thinking about who’s in the stands.
I scooted down the bench, flinching when we had another turnover.
“Coach, put me in. I won’t screw up again, I swear.”
The scowl he already had on his face deepened. “Maybe I made a mistake thinking you were ready for playoffs.”
“No, sir. I’m ready. Put me in and I’ll make sure they don’t score again.”
He watched as the team set up their defense, quiet for so long I thought he’d forgotten about me. He called his last time-out, and when the team skated in, he outlined a plan. Daniel was going to guard the goal. My job was to take out whoever got the puck and do whatever it took to get it to Beck or Dane.
We followed the plan, and Beck shot and scored.
Two points down.
Over the next five minutes, I shut out the rest of the world and went after the other team, checking, blocking, and setting picks. More than that, I actually enjoyed playing, the way I used to when I joined pick-up games, before all the stress and expectations got thrown into the mix. Dane, Hudson, and Beck cut and weaved, passing and passing until one of them got a clear shot—Dane this time.
Yes!
One point down.
After a long battle near the other team’s goal, I managed to steal the puck. I fired it toward our side of the ice, aiming to get it into the scoring area more than to try to score. Hudson picked it up, shot, and scored.
All tied up. The other team called a time-out.
“Ox! I want you back down in front of their net,” Coach yelled. “They almost scored that last play and I need you to make sure they don’t. We win now or we go into overtime—those are the only options.”
I nodded.
We headed back onto the ice. Two and a half minutes. I just had to keep them from getting another point.
I blocked one shot. My teammate recovered and the action headed toward our goal. I wanted to go get in there, but I held back, ready for a fast break.
With ten seconds to go, Beck shot. The puck went in and the crowd went crazy. I didn’t let myself relax until the very last second fell off the clock.
Then we barreled into each other, celebrating our win.
The awesome high that comes along with winning hung around until I exited the locker room and saw my dad’s stern expression.
Why can’t he just be happy we won? Just once I’d like to see even a hint of pride.
Then again, I did screw up pretty badly before getting my head back in the game. How could I have let myself get so distracted during a huge playoff game?
Dad stepped toward me, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught a blur of movement. Lindsay slammed into me, her arms going around my neck, her legs wrapping around my waist.
She planted a smacking kiss on my lips. “I knew you guys would win. I mean, you worried me just a little bit, but I knew you’d pull it off.” She pressed her lips to mine again, and I tightened my grip and kissed her back, enjoying the happy lust haze that took over and softened the rest of the world.
A loud throat clearing cut through the haze and I knew Dad had made his way over.
“Thank you, baby,” I whispered in Lindsay’s ear, and then I slowly lowered her to her feet, placing myself a step in front of her so she wouldn’t have to deal with my father’s judgment head-on. “Dad.”
“Son.” He crossed his arms and his gaze flicked to Lindsay.
Awkwardness crowded the space. After an eternity, which was probably actually only a few seconds, Lindsay extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Lindsay. Ryder’s—”
“Friend,” I cut in. Her face fell and I internally kicked my own ass for being too weak. But I was also protecting her. She had no idea how harsh he would be.
“Right. I’m Ox’s friend,” Lindsay said, and I hated how flat and cold her voice went, not to mention the way she’d called me Ox, like way back in the beginning when we were distant acquaintances. “I just got a little carried away, because I was so excited they won.”
“I could tell,” Dad said. Because he couldn’t just not be a prick.
“Well, I guess I should go congratulate the rest of the team.” Lindsay looked at me, hurt flickering through her eyes. “I’ll try to keep my lips to myself, but no promises. You know how I get when I’m excited.”
I reached for her but she dodged and pushed through the crowd. Damn it. I turned back to Dad. “Why do you have to be like that?”
“Me? I’m not the one who called her a friend—rookie mistake,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re out of your league, son. I saw you smiling up at her in the stands. You let yourself get distracted and started playing like shit.”
“Maybe you just need to accept the fact that I always play like shit, and I’ll never be as good as you were. As usual, your pep talks are inspiring. So glad you could make it.”
He stepped closer and jabbed a finger to my chest. “Watch your mouth. I know you think I’m being harsh, but I’m trying to keep you from making the same mistakes I did.”
For a moment, I almost reverted to old habits, simply submitting to whatever he said and nodding for the sake of cutting off an argument. But I didn’t work this hard to be with Lindsay to fuck it all up and be my dad’s puppet—especially not after everything he’d put our family through over the years. “I don’t have a wife to cheat on, so that means I’m allowed to be with whoever I want. So see, not making your mistakes at all.”
The muscles along his jaw tightene
d. “You’re making them before you even have a career, which is only going to guarantee you never have one. Have your fun, but you’re going to meet hundreds of girls over the next few years. You need to look at the big picture.”
“For once, I am.” I started away and Dad caught my arm, his fingers digging in deep.
“Let go,” I ground out between clenched teeth.
A handful of people looked our way and he loosened his grip. “You need to know something about that girl. I—”
“Not interested,” I said, and then I charged through the mass of bodies, hoping I could catch her and fix it before she decided I wasn’t worth the trouble.
…
By the time I pushed into Howl at the Moon, the hits I’d received and given on the ice were taking effect. Every muscle in my body ached and my limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Yet that still didn’t compare to the ache in my chest, where a hollow pit had formed, growing bigger every time I thought about Lindsay.
I barely resisted the urge to shove people out of my way, exercising epic restraint as I wove through the crowd. The plan was to come here to celebrate. Instead, Lindsay left the arena without me. She wouldn’t answer her phone, and the only information I could gather from asking around was that they “thought she left with Megan and Dane.”
I texted Dane.
Me: You here?
Dane: If by here you mean Howl at the Moon, yeah.
Me: Is Lindsay with you?
Dane: Bro, she’s pretty pissed, and she’s been downing shots. You might want to give her space.
Me: Where are you?
He answered that they were at the bar, and I changed direction and pushed my way over to the long, polished, wood counter. Lindsay was perched on one of the high stools, and the male bartender was leaned over, flirting with her as he poured a shot.
Oh, hell no.
I took two large strides, eating up the space as quickly as possible. I certainly understood why every guy who came into her radius hit on her, but it didn’t mean I had to like it, and I really fucking didn’t.
The scrawny math tutor was one thing, and I wasn’t a fan of the way my teammate Daniel treated her with such familiarity, either, but the guy behind the counter, with his stupid hipster beard and his gaze locked on Lindsay’s cleavage was another. The fact that she didn’t seem to be shutting it down sent more toxic heat pumping through my veins.
Before I met this girl who’d started to occupy my every thought, I didn’t think I was the jealous type. Now I wanted to tear apart every guy who so much as looked at her, and it was only getting stronger the closer we got.
I glared at the bartender as I put my hand on the back of her neck, forcing myself to focus on the important part—making things right with my girl. “Lindsay.”
She glanced over her shoulder at me, and she must’ve had a few drinks already, because she wobbled. “Oh, hi, friend.”
“Come on, baby. You know that you’re more than my friend. You just don’t understand how my dad can be. I was trying to protect you.”
“I’m about to graduate, and you can’t even order a drink, can you?” She turned to the bartender and hooked a thumb back at me. “He’s not even twenty-one yet.”
I gripped the bottom of the stool and twisted her to face me. “I fail to see how my age has anything to do with anything.”
She shrugged. “Just an observation.”
When the bartender lingered, his eyes dipping to Lindsay’s cleavage again, I gritted my teeth. “Go serve someone else. Now.”
He backed away—smart man. I leaned over Lindsay, my hands braced on either side of her thighs.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, and her voice cracked, making me feel like that much more of an asshole. “You told me that waiting for you didn’t make me a puck bunny, but the way you treated me sure as hell made me feel like one.”
“I’m sorry.”
She tried to turn back toward the bar, but I held her in place. “What does it matter?” she asked with a shake of her head. “I’m about to graduate and move. You’ll still be here. This is doomed to fail, and I’m an idiot for thinking it could end differently.”
“The only time I can truly be myself is with you. Don’t tell me that doesn’t matter.”
She dropped her head and I cupped her chin and tipped her face back to mine.
“Please, Lindsay. I know I fucked up. I know I should’ve handled that entire situation differently. But the truth is, I’m not as good at juggling everything as I hoped I’d be. I’ll try harder, though, because you help center me, and I know I’ve teased you about having a grudge against fun, but the truth is my life has been way more fun since you entered it. I need us to be okay. It scares me how much I need it.”
I took a risk and kissed her, just a quick peck on her lips. Then I rested my forehead against hers and twisted a strand of her silky hair around my finger. “I’ll never treat you like that again, I promise. I’ll announce it to everyone I meet. You’re mine and I’m yours, and that matters to me more than anything else has ever mattered to me.”
I straightened and raised my voice. “Hey, everyone! I belong to this girl. This super-hot, smart girl that I totally don’t deserve.”
She stood up on the bottom rung of the stool, rocking into me, and put her hand over my mouth. “Oh my gosh, I think you might be crazy.”
“Crazy for you.” I added a big grin, hoping it’d be enough.
She rolled her eyes, then she locked her gaze onto mine. “You really need me?”
I nodded and slid my hands around her tiny waist. “I do. My dad thinks girls are a distraction, which was why I panicked and called you my friend. But I don’t care what he thinks—I loved knowing you were in the stands cheering me on.”
It was true, even if she was also kind of distracting. I’d have to work on compartmentalizing, but luckily, I had a lot of experience finding a way to accomplish everything I set my mind to.
Lindsay placed her hands on the center of my chest, and my heart beat harder and faster, that hollow place that had opened slowly closing back up. “I’m afraid I might need you, too.”
“Good. Because I’m afraid that I don’t have patience for a party tonight.” I moved my hands to her ass and boosted her in my arms. “I want you all to myself.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lindsay
Light pressed against my eyelids, turning the world from black to orange, and I burrowed deeper under the covers and curled closer to the warm, naked body I was lying halfway on top of. When my eyes fluttered open, Ryder’s profile greeted me. His eyes were still closed, but the smile that spread across his face when I kissed his shoulder let me know he was at least partially awake.
Last night I’d been pissed and drunk—not a great combo—and I’d planned on letting him have it when I saw him next. I’d meant a different kind of letting him have it originally, but after he told me he needed me and carried me out of that club, my emotions flipped, and I’d wanted him too badly to hold on to my earlier anger.
I ran my finger down the bridge of his nose and tapped it to his lips. Who could blame me for forgiving him so quickly? He was so damn sexy I couldn’t help but marvel that I got him all to myself, even if only for a little while.
But maybe it could be longer… I considered asking him what he’d think if I looked for jobs in Boston instead of New York, but I wasn’t secure enough with where we were yet. I should probably see if there were any positions that’d even consider hiring me before I got carried away.
I shifted, working to untangle my leg from his.
Ryder’s hand shot out. He gripped my elbow and hauled me on top of him, his free arm winding around my waist and pinning me against his firm chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I giggled—yes, Ryder had reduced me to a giggly, giddy girl, and while I wanted to roll my eyes at myself, I was too happy to care. I kissed his neck, smiling against his skin at the low hum that
vibrated through his throat.
Then I sat up, my legs straddling his waist, and stretched. “I should probably go get some work done at the paper.”
“You should stay in bed with me all day instead.” Ryder gripped my thighs and rocked against me, all the areas that were still sensitive from last night waking up and begging me to stay as well.
“As tempting as that sounds…” I ran my hand across his torso and got sidetracked by the bruises marring his side. I gently traced them with my fingertips. “You sore from the game?”
“Not from the game.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I laughed and shook my head. He sat up and kissed the sensitive spot under my ear, and I felt him grow harder underneath me, which was making it extremely difficult to hold on to logical thoughts.
“Some of us have jobs and classes we have to work on. We can’t all just play hockey to get through college,” I teased—or at least attempted to, but my words came out shaky. “In fact, my math tutor’s been slacking. It’s almost like he doesn’t want me to graduate.”
“He doesn’t. If you don’t graduate, that means I get to tutor you some more next year, right?” He nipped my earlobe with his teeth, and I gripped his biceps for support as a delicious shiver worked its way down my spine. “Now you know why I took the job in the first place. I had ulterior motives to keep you here all along.”
That was as good as saying he wanted me to stay in Boston, right?
I reached up, raked my fingers through his hair, and then tugged his head back so I could regain access to his lips. I rolled my hips as I touched my tongue to his, deciding that I could afford a few more hours of playtime. News occasionally sleeps—wasn’t that the saying?
The loud knock on his bedroom door made me jump. I gathered the sheet to cover myself and shifted to the side.
“We don’t want any,” Ryder barked.
“Bro, I’m not selling anything,” Dane said. “Your parents are here.”
“Parents? Like both of them?”
“Do you have more than two?” Dane asked through the door.
“Smart-ass,” Ryder muttered, and I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh. Amusement mixed in with the sexual frustration coursing through my body. The news that his parents—neither of which seemed to be fans of mine—were in the other room put a major dent in the mood.
Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny (Taking Shots) Page 18