by Toni Aleo
Because all I do is win.
I had the choice of so many schools. I could have gone to the best of the best, but the charm of Nashville, Tennessee, along with knowing I would have a full ride accompanied by a badass sponsorship program where everything and anything I would need was paid for, gave me all the incentive I needed to come here. I didn’t want my mom to have to worry about anything. I wanted her to sit back, enjoy not having to work three jobs anymore for my gym tuition, and just relax. It was my turn to worry about everything that went along with my career. She had done her part. Now I would get one hell of an education at one of the up-and-coming schools in the country, and I would be the best of the best. I would put the GymBulls on the map.
We would win.
And when it’s all over, I can take care of my mom the way she’s cared for me.
Taking a deep breath, I roll my shoulders and then take off, running toward the springboard to elevate me over the lower bar to the high bar. As I swing out, my toes are well above where they need to be, and it’s time to get started. My routine is spot-on and perfect. I may have relaxed my toes in my release series, but that’s okay. No one would notice because when I’m on the bars, I’m flying, and people are amazed by how fucking high I get.
When it’s time for my two giants in a row, I know I’ll land my dismount. It’s a tough one. Full twisting double back layout that, in my opinion, is badass. When I let go of the bars, tucking my body in tight, it’s all normal for me. A way of life almost. My feet hit the mat, and my arms go out in front of me, keeping me balanced. Throwing my hands up, I nod.
That’s how it’s done.
“Sof!”
I look toward my coach, Damien, with his insanely stern face and thick, dark brows. His wife, Melissa, stands beside him, both of them with their arms crossed over their chests as they watch me. “Your legs went slack on the dismount. You gotta make sure to stay tight so that when you go into the layout, it’s fluid.”
Or so I thought.
“You’re almost there,” Melissa calls to me, her face bright and happy. “And those layouts are phenomenal.”
These two play good cop, bad cop. When Damien is tough, Melissa is there to pick you up. I kind of like it. I came from a gym where my coach was hard as fuck twenty-four seven, and he never once told me I was doing well. Even when I placed first in the state and sixteenth in the country, or when I won the Jesolo trophy two years in a row, he told me I could do better. He also called me a dumb fuck for picking a school that didn’t have an established team.
He was awesome. Insert eye roll.
But here, they’re hard, but they’re nice too. They appreciate me. I think they might actually care for me, which is refreshing. My mom says it’s awesome, and I guess she’s right, but I’m still a little nervous. I’m waiting for someone to throw a block of chalk at me and tell me I suck. But since I arrived here, almost three months ago, it hasn’t happened yet.
I’m still waiting, though.
“Okay, I’ll do it again.”
“No, let’s just do the dismount,” Damien calls to me as he comes toward me. “Get up there.”
I go to the lower bar and pull up before squatting on as he comes toward me, standing beneath the high bar. He nods to me, and just as I go to jump, my roommate—or I guess, my new best friend, as she’s told me we are—Amelia hollers out, “You got this, Sofia! Get it!”
I don’t know why, but her statement makes me a grin. In my old gym, we didn’t have close friendships. We were all against each other. We didn’t have that camaraderie. But Amelia Justice came from a gym where everyone was best friends, and she is all about making me hers. I’m a little hesitant. I mean, I don’t know her from Adam, but it’s refreshing, and she’s super sweet.
I jump hard to the bar, working up the speed to do my giants as the rest of the team gathers around, clapping and calling out my name, telling me I can do it. I thrive on this. The pressure, the need to succeed, and I know I’ll land it, and it will be the best ever.
Getting momentum, I go around the bar with ease, and when it’s time to let go, I’m so tight, I feel like I’m gonna break. But when I hit the mat and I raise my arms, I know I landed it. All the girls scream, even Melissa, and when I look to Damien, he gives me a curt nod.
“Perfection.” A grin spreads across my lips as I nod back, smacking my hand to his as his other hand comes up to squeeze my shoulder. “Attagirl.”
When I turn, Amelia is there, wrapping her arms around me and hugging me tightly. “That was awesome!”
I curve my lips as we pull away. “Thanks. It’s been bugging me.”
“Can’t tell. You’re so badass.”
We share a smile as we gather at the chalk bowl. “You’re badass too.”
“Well, duh,” she says, a sparkle in her eye. “But for real. Perfect ten.”
“You’re insane. My feet weren’t flexed.”
“Who the hell watches that?” she laughs, and I smile as she slaps her hands together. “What did you end up doing last night?”
“Oh, since you blew me off?”
She rolls her eyes. “Family thing.”
I set her with a look. “You blew me off to go play dress-up.”
She makes a face, her little nose wrinkling up as she holds my gaze. Unlike me, she is itty-bitty. We’re the same height, about five two, but she’s lean and strong, while I have some junk in the trunk and very thick shoulders. When I first met her, I didn’t know that someone could have such blue eyes but such dark hair. Her eyes are like the brightest bluish ocean, just stunning. Her hair reaches to her waist when it’s down, but like mine, it’s currently in one hell of a messy bun, tendrils falling down her cheeks, which are rosy with exertion.
She’s pretty adorable.
I throw her a playful grin. “What were you? A dude?”
She gives me a deadpan look, her eyes in slits. “I was an elf, Legolas.”
“Who’s that?”
“Lord of the Rings, duh.”
I have no idea what she is talking about. “No clue.”
She widens her eyes as she snaps her mouth shut. “First road trip, we’re sitting in the back of the bus and watching all of them.”
I slap my hands together, chalk going everywhere in a cloud. “There’s more than one?”
She just blinks, her long black lashes fluttering as she looks at me like I’m an idiot. “There are three and then three prequels called The Hobbit. Really?”
I shrug. “I seriously went to gymnastics and school. Nothing else.”
She shakes her head. “I guess since I was the one to set up all your social media, I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Exactly,” I say, leaning into her as we head back to the low bar. “Don’t judge me.”
“Oh, I’m so judging.”
I laugh as I pull up to the low bar before squatting on. I want to do my dismount again. Before I can jump, though, Amelia calls out, “You’re still going to my brother’s hockey game with me tomorrow, right?”
Balancing on the bottom bar, my toes wrapping around the bar as I fix my grips, I shrug as best I can. “Yeah, I guess.”
“It will be fun.”
I’ve never been to a hockey game, but apparently, the Bullies’ games are pretty hard-core. Since one of my goals was to live life to the fullest while I’m here, I guess I should go. Though, I’ve been here three months and haven’t done anything to achieve my new personal goal. I’ve fallen into my routine of gym and school, sleeping in between, and working out more than I should. I don’t want to let anyone down. Especially myself.
But hockey could be fun. Unlike Amelia’s, though, my excitement isn’t there. She comes from a hockey family, and apparently, her aunt owns a team. Or something like that. I don’t know… She talks fast when she gets excited.
Hockey makes her excited.
Which, I guess, excites me.
What if I like it? It could be cool.
“The guys are
so hot, you’ll love it.”
“Oh yeah?” I call back to her, fixing my grips as I check my balance once more.
“Dude, seriously, hockey boys are just a different breed. Plus, my brother said if I come to his games, he’ll let me go to the parties.”
When I laugh, I lose my balance, falling back to the mat. I glare in annoyance—but not at Amelia. Looking over my head at her, I ask, “Parties?”
“Yeah. I know you’ve heard of the Bullies’ parties?”
“Oh yeah. I heard they’re supposed to be epic.”
She grins. “Yup, and we’re going.”
I smile back at her, though I have no plans on going. Parties aren’t my thing. Or, rather, I’ve never been to one, and they just look like trouble. Boys…lots and lots of boys. They’re everywhere here, and man, they are not shy. I pull up on the bar, squatting on before I look back at the top bar, and I see a grin on Amelia’s face. According to my new bestie, hockey players do it like no other. It’s basically all she talks about, and I’m surprised she isn’t dating one. She did in high school, but they broke up when he went off to New York for college. And now she is a free agent—her words, not mine. I don’t know anything about hockey players, or the obvious allure they have over Amelia, but apparently, I’m about to find out.
First, though, I’m going to land this dismount again.
And then maybe I’ll get excited for some hockey.
Or, better yet, the hockey boys.
Ha, even I can’t help but laugh at that.
Chapter Three
Ryan
Holding the puck with the blade of my stick behind the goal, I watch as my forwards get in place. One of the Commodores’ forwards watches me like a hawk, trying to pick me off, but I won’t let that happen. With my eyes on him and on my forwards, I see my line partner, Moon, come off the bench, tapping the ice for the puck. I rocket it to him, and he redirects it at our winger, who takes off.
Before I can even make it halfway up the ice, though, Reilly scores. A beautiful five-holer that brings the crowd to their feet. As we wrap up for a team hug, I am just astonished at how talented Reilly is. He came out of nowhere from Kentucky, which is crazy since hockey isn’t that big there. He’s a freshman this year, but he won’t be here long. Scouts are on him like bears on honey. Not like with me. With me, it’s a bit different. Scouts look at me because I’m Shea Adler’s nephew. As a favor. I feel like I’m the opposite of honey. Vinegar, if you will.
No, they look at you because you’re fucking amazing.
I say that like I hear my uncle in my head saying it. I have to stay confident. There are plenty of hockey players who don’t go into the draft until their senior year. Smart ones, too, so they can get their education. I’m good. I’m fine. I’ve got this.
Going over the boards, all of us pretty freaking happy with our four to zip lead, I drop my gaze to the spot where my family always sits. My mom couldn’t come tonight; she had an event, and Shea and Elli had things to do tonight too. I’m not upset they aren’t there. They all have lives and have been to every single one of my earlier games. Plus, our student body fills the stands. But Amelia is there, and surprisingly, alone. She told me she was bringing a friend since I didn’t want her sitting by herself. Not that I think she cares. She cheers along with the crowd, waving her teal and black pompom in the air.
A smile pulls at my lips as I sit down between Moon and Radford. Tapping his glove to mine, Moon grins over at me with his crooked teeth. “Great pass. Like a rocket.”
I nod, but before I can say anything, Coach Moore has me by the back of my jersey. “Justice, I need those passes to be quicker and cleaner. Dude almost picked you off.”
I make a face. “He did?”
“Yeah, and for the fact that you didn’t realize that, you owe me laps.”
I groan inwardly but nod quickly. “Yes, sir.”
When Coach is out of earshot, Moon says, “I thought it was clean. It hit my tape perfect.”
I shrug, pretty disappointed in myself. I thought the same, but then, what do I know? I kind of wish Shea were here; he would tell me what I could have done better. I thought it was a damn good pass, but Coach, he’s hard on me because he knows what my goals are. We’ve talked about them a lot, and his goal is to make mine a reality.
“Always room for improvement.”
“I guess.”
“Great redirect, though.”
“Thanks, man.”
I watch as my team dominates in the Commodores’ zone. After two more uneventful shifts on my part, a few hits and one block that I’m sure will bruise later, the game is over and we’ve won. Shutting them out and starting the season strong with a win. I love it. I love my team, but damn it, I want more.
Once we are all in the locker room, I lean back in my locker, an ice towel across my lap to both cover my tight boxers and cool me off. Coach stands in the middle of the room holding the game puck in his hand as he points to McNeil, our awesome goalie, for a damn good shutout.
“It was a team effort, but you all but stood on your head out there, Neilly.”
We all agree, cheering him on as he takes the puck, shaking Coach’s hand. Coach talks a bit more about how great we did but what we could do better. Our defense is a major issue.
“We’ll have a defensemen’s clinic all next week. Five a.m. sharp with Baylor.”
A collective groan moves through the locker room, making Coach grin. His daughter is hard-core insane. The only female to ever make it into the NHL and play her ass off, with a twenty-two-goal season before getting injured? Yeah, she is tough, but I like her. Everyone else hates her. Especially early mornings with her, because she is usually in a shit mood.
“Oh yes, she’s ready to whip you boys into shape. So defense, we’ll see you starting Monday morning. Forwards, don’t think you’re off the hook. You’re the following week.”
More groans before Coach claps his hands and heads out of the locker room. Leaning forward, I reach for another cold towel before wrapping it around my neck.
“That sucks. I have a seven a.m. class.”
I nod, glancing to Moon as I lean back again in my locker. “Me too, on Tuesday and Thursday.”
But I’m not worried. Those classes are for my athletic training major, which I’m killing at. Apparently not Moon, though. He groans for me as he matches my position, both of us just relaxing for a moment. I know Amelia is waiting for me, but I need a minute. I’m still pissed I fucked up that pass, and I don’t want her to worry for me. Closing my eyes, I replay the play, but again, I see nothing wrong. I guess I’ll have to talk to Coach about it, or maybe Shea. Even though he didn’t see it, sometimes I just need to talk to Shea to feel better.
“Dude, let it go. The game is over.”
Moon and I walk toward the rink’s common room. I’m wet from the shower I took, but even in the cool rink, I’m burning up. “It sucks. I felt good about it.”
“It’s over. Leave it on the ice, bro. Ya know that.”
He’s right. “Yeah. I’ll see ya back at the house.”
His bushy brows pull in. “Why?”
“My sister came. I’m gonna make sure she gets back to her place safe.”
He waggles his brows at me. “Your hot sister?”
“My baby sister,” I remind him, and his lips snap shut. He’s a good guy, but there is no way in hell I would be okay with him dating my sister. She’s a baby. No. No way.
As I turn to head toward her, I look up at the wall that holds photos of all fourteen of our Bullies’ brothers who have made it into the NHL. There are some greats. The Sinclair brothers, going into the draft one after another and all going first round. Some other guys I really don’t know, but then one I do. My buddy Aiden Brooks. He’s the newest to be added. He didn’t even finish his first full year here before they decided he was going into the draft as soon as possible, and he was picked number one to the Islanders. It was insane, but we were all super proud of him.
>
Looking at each of their faces, I can’t help but smile.
I want to be number fifteen.
But that won’t happen if my passing sucks.
Fuck.
Rolling my eyes, I go to the spot where my family always waits. In the corner of the hall, Amelia has her phone out, taking pictures as she does various duck-lip poses.
It’s pathetic, but I love her.
“Hey, nerd.”
Her face lights up. “Dude, you were spectacular out there.”
I smile as she smacks my arm. “Thanks, Am.”
“I texted Mom and Shea pictures from the game. They both said great job.”
I wrap my arm around her as we head for the door. “Thanks. I thought you were coming with a friend.”
She rolls her eyes. “She blew me off. One of our professors gave us a paper due Monday. She’s a freak and won’t do anything until the paper’s done.”
“Perfectionist?”
“Oh my gawd, you have no clue,” she says, leaning into me. “But she’s super cool and crazy-ass talented. I can’t wait for you to see her tomorrow. She makes me look like shit, I swear it! I love her to pieces.”
“That’s good.” And it is.
Amelia’s boyfriend moved away. Though, I don’t think she really cares anymore, but so did her best friend. With Shelli being gone more than usual, I worry Amelia could get lonely. We’re close, but there is no way in hell I’m doing duck-lip selfies with her.
I open the door for her, and she walks out. “I’m more excited to see you kill it.”
She beams up at me. “I’m only doing vault and floor. I’m sort of bummed.”
“Don’t be. You’ll get up there. We all know beam isn’t your jam.”
“I know, but I love bars.”
“So, work harder.”
“Yeah.” She sighs, yet she’s grinning. “I love it, though.”
“That’s great, Am, really,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “You like your classes so far?”
“Yeah, they’re good. Yours?”
“Yeah. I have an easy year so I can focus on hockey.” Though, maybe it’s not easy enough since I suck at passing.