Overtime: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Kat Mizera

  Overtime

  A Moo U Hockey Novel

  Kat Mizera

  This book was inspired by the True North Series written by Sarina Bowen. It is an original work that is published by Heart Eyes Press LLC.

  Copyright © 2021 by Kat Mizera. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For my writer pals—Jami, Kelly, and Tess. Thanks for being my friends, my motivation, my tribe.

  Contents

  1. Patrick

  2. Ellie

  3. Patrick

  4. Ellie

  5. Patrick

  6. Ellie

  7. Patrick

  8. Patrick

  9. Ellie

  10. Patrick

  11. Ellie

  12. Patrick

  13. Ellie

  14. Ellie

  15. Patrick

  16. Ellie

  17. Patrick

  18. Ellie

  19. Patrick

  20. Ellie

  21. Patrick

  22. Ellie

  23. Patrick

  24. Ellie

  25. Patrick

  26. Ellie

  27. Ellie

  28. Patrick

  29. Patrick

  30. Ellie

  31. Patrick

  32. Ellie

  33. Patrick

  34. Ellie

  35. Patrick

  36. Ellie

  37. Patrick

  38. Ellie

  You Will Also Enjoy…

  1

  Patrick

  Sixteen seconds on the clock.

  The score was tied at two, and I wasn’t going to be happy if we had to go to overtime. The team I played for had lost to these guys during this particular New Year’s tournament for the last ten years. Tonight, we were going to win it. At least, we were if I had anything to say about it.

  I cut my gaze over to my twin brother, Paxton, and gave him a little signal. It was something we’d been doing for years, since we were six or seven years old, and when I winked twice, he knew exactly what I had in mind. He skated behind the other team’s goalie, but instead of carrying the puck with him to the other side, he stopped behind the net like he was looking to make a pass. To everyone’s surprise but mine, he flipped the puck over the top of the net, dumping it right into the slot—where I was waiting. I one-timed it over the goalie’s left shoulder and with ten seconds left in the game, I saw that gorgeous red light go off.

  My teammates immediately surrounded me, arms in the air. We’d just pulled ahead and if we could keep it away from them for ten more seconds, we’d actually beat these guys for the first time in years.

  I skated to the bench and let the D-men handle it, and nine seconds later, we had our arms in the air once again.

  Fuck yeah.

  “You rock, Trick!” Lex Vonne, one of my teammates, called me by my nickname as he shook his head. “You and Pax freak me right out when you do that twin shit.”

  “Damn twins.” Another teammate, Tate Adler, grinned at us.

  Paxton didn’t say much—he never did—and just smiled as he walked back toward the locker room. I followed behind him, my heart still thumping with excitement. This had been a great tournament and winning always made it that much better. Scoring the winning goal made the whole event epic.

  I was in such a good mood, I didn’t notice someone coming up behind me.

  “Patrick. I need to talk to you.” Bart Keller, the team’s gruff, no-nonsense head coach, motioned for me to follow him.

  Shit. This couldn’t be good.

  “What’s up, Coach?” I had a feeling I knew what was coming, but I’d been hoping getting the game-winning goal would deter him. Apparently not.

  “I just got a list of players with bad grades. You’re on it.” He met my eyes, and there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his. “I don’t care if you make the game-winning goal every game for the rest of your college career—if you don’t keep your grades up next semester, you’re benched. If you’re failing a single class, you’re off the team. Starting now, I want notes from every one of your professors, weekly.”

  “Coach, I—” I started to defend myself but he cut me off.

  “Save it. Get a tutor. Beg your brother to help you. I don’t care how you do it, but I need weekly progress reports as soon as classes resume. And anything less than a B, you’re benched.”

  “Wait, what?” I stared at him. “I can’t get less than a B? But—”

  “My team, my rules. That’s all.” He turned away and I scowled, my heart dropping to my feet. I was so screwed.

  My grades this past semester had been awful. I’d barely scraped by, but studying had never been my thing, and with a contract in the big leagues looming before me, marketing and statistics really weren’t on my radar. It’s not like I’d ever use any of that stuff as a professional hockey player, so taking time to study seemed like a waste. Hell, even if I didn’t play hockey for some reason, I was never going to use statistics in the real world.

  “What happened?” Paxton fell into step beside me when we finally headed out to the bus that would take us back to campus.

  I relayed the conversation and he grimaced.

  “Told you all that partying was going to catch up to you.” We sank down next to each other when we got on the bus.

  “Thanks, bro. Way to kick your twin when he’s down.”

  “You need a tutor.”

  “Duh.”

  “I think I know someone.” Paxton was the studious one, so I’d half thought he would volunteer.

  “Besides you?” I asked, arching a brow.

  He chuckled. “I have my own studying to do, plus I have a girlfriend who requires my attention. And anyway, you never listen to me. You need someone you can’t easily tell to fuck off.”

  I gave a half-hearted laugh. “There is that.”

  “Ellie.”

  “Huh?”

  “Ellie McGinn. You know who she is, right?”

  “She’s that super-genius teenager… Isn’t she a kid?”

  “Not really. I think she’s nineteen now, and anyway, her age is irrelevant because she’s brilliant. She’s also not your type, so you won’t spend the whole time trying to get in her pants.”

  “Why isn’t she my type?” I asked, frowning. If I was honest, almost all women were my type. As long as they were hygienic and stuff, I wasn’t that picky. I mean, sure, I had my choice of girls most of the time as captain of the Burlington University—affectionately known as Moo U—varsity hockey team, but I didn’t have a type, per se.

  “Well, she’s shy and nerdy, for one thing. Super smart, studies all the time, and definitely not the kind of girl who’ll fawn over you. And you seem to like that.”

  “Whatever.” I shook my head, taking his teasing in stride. “I need help getting my grades up, so I don’t really care what she looks like, as long as she’s smart, competent, and won’t completely break the bank.”

  “She’s smart, all right.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to text her now, ask her if she’s available.”

  “Thanks.” I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes.

  Happy fucking New Year.

  Despite the bad news for me, a couple of my teammates and I headed to a party not long after we got back to school. Paxton went home to meet up with Naomi, his girlfriend, but Tate and I didn’t waste any time getting to the party. He was looking for his girlfriend, and I was looking
for a distraction, so the timing was good. Honestly, I didn’t know how the guys who lived in what we called the hockey house could put together a party while still on the road, but they’d managed to. We were some of the first people there and cars were already lining the street. This was obviously going to be a good one.

  I headed inside and went right through the house and onto the back deck. That was always where the kegs were, and tonight was no exception. I grabbed a red plastic cup and filled it up before going back inside and taking stock of who was there. Half the team had shown up, most with dates, though a few were on the prowl, but I didn’t see any fresh blood. I’d already hooked up with most of the cute single girls on campus and had gotten a little bored with that whole scene. Mostly, I wanted to get my degree and get the hell out of dodge.

  I’d loved college to date, probably a little too much if my grades were any indication, and I’d had more than my fair share of fun. In fact, I’d spotted one of my two favorite ways to spend a weekend, dancing on the other side of the room. I had two friends with benefits that I hooked up with fairly regularly, but I was getting tired of it. And them. I’d hoped they wouldn’t be here tonight, but they always were. The goal now was to try to avoid that kind of thing. Four months until the end of the school year. Four months until I had to make a big decision.

  A flash of blond hair distracted me and I thought it was Desi at first, one of my two favorite hookups, but the girl who turned was younger and softer than Desi, giving me pause. I squinted, trying to get a better look at her through the throngs of people dancing. I didn’t recognize her, so I took a few steps in her direction in an attempt to check her out. It wasn’t often someone new showed up at a hockey house party, so I was curious.

  She had a red plastic cup in her hand and was talking to someone I didn’t know, but the closer I got, the cuter she was. Long blond hair, cute figure, and an adorable, little upturned nose. I couldn’t tell what color her eyes were, but from where I stood, she was extremely attractive and had a great laugh. Her ass looked fantastic in a pair of tight black jeans, and though it didn’t appear she had much in the way of a chest, her trim body made my mouth water.

  How did I not know this girl?

  Well, I was going to rectify that situation right now. I’d almost reached her when her eyes met mine. There was a moment of…something, and then warm, wet lips suddenly fastened to mine.

  “Patrick! You’re here.” Cheryl Bernard had her arms around my neck and was pressing her perfect thirty-four double Ds against my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back?”

  “Oh. Hey.” Now that I’d spotted someone new, I was a lot less interested in Cheryl, but she already had one hand in my pocket, groping me through the fabric of my jeans.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered. “We haven’t hooked up in weeks…and I’m soooo horny.”

  “I just got here,” I protested mildly, tugging her hand out of my pocket. “Let me finish a beer, okay?”

  “Fine.” Her lower lip protruded a little as she watched me. She was still practically fused against my chest, and short of giving her a shove, I couldn’t dislodge her, so I half walked, half dragged her outside. She hated being cold, and if I took my time, she’d go inside without me.

  “Paaaatttyyy…” she whined, shivering. “Why are we out here?”

  I hated when she called me Patty.

  “I’m getting more beer,” I responded. “You want one?”

  “I hate beer,” she muttered.

  “Okay.” I toyed with the tap, pretending something was wrong with it, hoping she’d get bored and go away.

  “I’ll meet you inside,” she said with a scowl, abruptly turning away.

  Thank god.

  I took my time refilling my beer, and instead of going back in through the kitchen, I jumped off the deck and walked around to the front of the house. I was freezing my balls off, but it would be worth it if I could lose Cheryl for a while. Normally, I was good with a quickie with Cheryl, Desi, or both of them together, but tonight I had other shit on my mind.

  Like the blonde who’d made eye contact with me across the dance floor. That kind of thing was a big part of the reason I was in the trouble I was in—I had no self-control. Dammit. Not when it came to women and partying, anyway. The problem was that after two and a half years of mindless hookups, I was tired of it. They all looked alike, felt alike, tasted alike. I wanted something different. Someone different. Someone who might actually keep my interest beyond thirty minutes of foreplay and a few rounds in the sack.

  I ran my hands through my too-long hair and made a mental note to get it cut. I’d let a lot of things go lately with all the partying I’d been doing, so I made the spontaneous decision to avoid women altogether for the rest of the night and hang out with my friends and teammates instead. Lex was here now and I moved in his direction. He lived here at the hockey house, which was a Victorian-style mansion that they’d converted into a fraternity house type of place, with a huge living area for parties, a big-ass kitchen and deck, and what seemed like a thousand bedrooms. It was probably only five, but I’d never counted them, so I wasn’t sure.

  I’d almost made it to Lex when I saw her again.

  The blonde.

  She wasn’t dancing anymore. She was just standing against a wall, looking a little lost and forlorn, as if the happy-go-lucky personality I’d seen when she’d been dancing had been an act. I wasn’t sure why I thought that, but my gut told me there was more to this girl than a great ass and a sweet face.

  I approached her with a friendly smile.

  “Hi.” I leaned against the wall so we were facing each other. “You want to dance?”

  She hesitated a fraction of a second and then nodded. “Sure.”

  We moved into the middle of the room, since there wasn’t an official dance floor, and she closed her eyes as we started to move. She was delightful to look at, her features delicate and feminine. She had fair skin and her hair was a delicious honey-blond color, reminding me of summer sunshine. It flowed around her shoulders as she danced, soft waves that made me want to run my fingers through it.

  The song came to an end and a slow one came on. Without saying a word, she moved into my arms and I put one arm around her lower back and used the hand of my other arm to hold one of her hands. Her eyes met mine, an unspoken question in them, but I didn’t want to talk. Not yet. I wanted to enjoy the feel of her slender body against mine and lose myself in someone with no expectations. Maybe she knew who I was and was angling for a hookup, but I didn’t get that vibe. She hadn’t been giving me inviting looks, hadn’t approached me, and there hadn’t been any recognition in her eyes at all. My gut told me she didn’t know who I was any more than I knew who she was.

  When the song came to an end, I reluctantly let her go and she smiled.

  “Thank you for the dances,” she said. She was yelling since a loud, fast song had come on and someone blasted the volume.

  I didn’t want to let her go just yet so I reached for her hand.

  “Let’s do a shot,” I said, motioning to a table set up along one wall. It had originally been intended for food but had morphed into the shot table, with someone pouring them and placing them in rows by drink. Jägermeister, Jack Daniel’s, and Fireball were the three I recognized, and I reached for the JD while she grabbed a Fireball.

  “To a new year and new friends,” I said, lifting the cup.

  “Cops!” someone yelled.

  “Shit! I have to get out of here,” she said frantically. “My mom will kill me if I get caught drinking—again!”

  “Come on.” I grabbed her hand and tugged her through the kitchen, out onto the deck, and then I vaulted over the side into the snow. “Come on!” I yelled up at her. “I’ll catch you. Jump!”

  2

  Ellie

  I had no idea who this gorgeous male specimen was, despite the fact that he seemed a little familiar, but he was asking me to jump over the side of a second
-level deck. Probably to my death. But that would be preferable to what would happen if my mom found out I was underage drinking at a party tonight instead of tutoring someone like I’d told her I would be.

  Someone yelled from inside the house, and after a quick glance in that direction, I panicked enough to do the unthinkable: I jumped.

  Instead of me breaking all the bones in my body, the hottie I’d just been dancing with broke my fall and then immediately put me down and grabbed my hand. We made a run for the woods nearby and kept going until the lights from the house and noise from the party faded to nothing.

  “Stop…” I panted. “I can’t run in these boots.”

  “Sorry.” He slowed to a walk and let go of my hand.

  I paused, bending over and resting my hands on my thighs as I tried to catch my breath. I walked and did yoga once in a while, but running through the woods on snow-covered ground in boots with three-inch heels was way out of my comfort zone.

  “You okay?” Hottie McHottie asked.

  “Yeah. Give me a sec.” I took a few deep breaths. “Thanks for catching me.”

  “Of course.”

  I really liked his voice. Deep but not gruff, with a warmth I hadn’t expected from a stranger. Especially not a cute one since I had about as much game with guys as a rugby player might have in a dance studio.

  “Hey.” A couple more guys I didn’t know caught up to us and paused, some catching their breath the way I was. “Cops swept the house. It’s been ugly. We should keep moving.”