Game Winner (The Penalty Kill Trilogy #3)
Page 5
“I wish I could, but I’m drowning in homework. Maybe some time next week?”
“Yeah, okay.” I’m a little disappointed, but it’s completely understandable. It’s a long drive, and she would have to leave really early to make it make in time for her morning classes. It wouldn’t be worth the trouble just for us to see each other for a few hours. “Go do your homework and I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you too, Levi.”
To get my mind off everything, I change and go to the gym to work off my worries. The next few days are going to be crazy while I hide from Presley about the game and prepare myself for my first NHL game. When I get back from the gym, feeling the burn in my muscles, Landon and Jayson decide we need to celebrate being called up, so there’s a huge party at our place tonight.
I shower at the fitness facility because it’s late when I leave. The party is already in full swing. The music is loud and the furniture in the living room has been moved to along the walls, so people are packed together while they dance. Jayson comes through the crowd of unfamiliar faces with a grin on his face and a beer in each hand.
“Congratulations!” He yells, handing me a beer.
“Do we even know half of these people?” I ask.
“Nope.” He smiles.
I take a swig of beer as we walk towards the kitchen where most of our teammates are. They yell out congratulations and slap me on the back. A drinking game starts in another room, taking most of the guys that way. I lean against the counter, nursing my beer, and watch everyone around me.
There’s a girl in the corner who is making out with some other guy. There’s the bodies mixing together in dance. There’s a couple guys walking up to two other girls, probably hoping to get laid tonight.
“This party is for you, isn’t it?”
I was so absorbed in my people watching that I didn’t realize a curly redheaded girl had walked up to me. “Uh, yeah?” I don’t understand the point of her question.
“You aren’t doing a good job of celebrating by standing in here all by yourself.”
The only person I want to celebrate with is hours away. I drink some beer and eye her before I answer. “Maybe this is how I celebrate good news.” I almost ask her how she suggests I party, but that might not come across well. Instead, I say, “I’m assuming you already know, but I’m Levi.”
She shakes my hand. “Tracie.”
“Nice to meet you, Tracie. Who’s your connection here?”
“I know Jayson and most of the other guys. You’re one of the exceptions.” Tracie takes a step closer to me, almost blocking me in.
“Well, now we’ve met. I should probably go socialize and celebrate correctly.” When I push off the counter, I’m expecting Tracie to take a step backwards, but she doesn’t so I’m flush against her. “Excuse me,” I mutter, stepping to the side to get away from her.
She calls after me, but I pretend not to hear. I wish I could say that’s the first and last time a girl hits on me throughout the night, but it isn’t. These are Jayson’s friends after all. I stay relatively sober, refraining from any of the drinking games, and around one in the morning, I go to bed. Before I fall asleep though, I text Presley.
I looooooovvvvvvveeeeeee you, Smarty & no, I’m not drunk.
Chapter Nine
Presley
“You’re killing me, Marley,” I huff. It’s Friday night, and I still can’t find anyone to go to the game with me.
“I’m sorry, Pres. I’ve got so much work to do, I just can’t.”
“It’s fine. I might go by myself.”
“Well, be careful and have fun. You’ve been cooped up too long.”
I don’t answer her, only tell her that I will call her later, and hang up the phone. I sit on my couch, missing Levi so much today. He’s traveling and can’t call me right now. Even though I’ve buried myself in homework, it doesn’t work all the time. My phone ringing, brings me out of my Levi-trance. I smile seeing Victor’s name on the display.
“Victor, I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”
“I’ve been busy, but I miss my little girl.”
I smile at his sweet endearment.
“I actually called for a reason. How about you and I go into the city and spend the day together?”
“Oh, I would love to. Levi got me tickets to the Pens game. Would you like to come?
“A Penguins game? Really, Presley? I might lose my Flyer fan association card.”
I laugh at him. “Please? No one else wants to go.”
“Well, I guess I could go. I mean you are going with me to the city. How about I pick you up in the morning?”
“Thank you, Victor.”
We hang up, and I decide to send a text to Levi.
I lllooovvveeee you & no I’m not drunk =)
~
I open my door to see Victor’s smiling face. It’s identical to Levi’s, just a few years older. He gives me a big hug. When I pull away, I grab my purse, and we head out.
On the way to the city, we discuss Victor’s health, which is doing great since the heart attack. Then he started telling me all about his hunting that he’s doing. I truly could care less, but I listen attentively because it’s Victor, and I love him.
We head downtown first. The city is decorated for the autumn weather, and I can’t believe that Christmas isn’t all that far away. What am I going to get Levi? I shake my head because all I want is Levi.
We hit a few shops, and of course Victor tries to buy me everything. He’s so sweet. We finally head over to a restaurant and grab a bite to eat. We talk about school and my joy of law school. I haven’t picked what kind of law I want to go into, but I’ve thought of entertainment lawyer. I love sports, and it might be great working so close to Levi.
We head to the arena, and I’m thankful I’m wearing a hoodie. We had to stand outside in line. I’m hoping that I don’t miss the warm ups. I love watching them stretch and get ready for the game. I wish I had worn Levi’s jersey, but it isn’t like he was playing for the Penguins yet.
“Wow, these are great seats,” Victor says. We’re almost to the glass section. I see the Penguins skating around, and I can’t help feel pride for my favorite NHL team.
“Hey, Pres. Who’s that next to seventy-one?” Victor points over to the side of the ice I can’t see very well.
“Where?” I stand up and look towards the center of the rink. There is seventy-one, stretching his legs. Across from him is eighty-seven, on both knees, and they’re both talking to someone.
I gasp and grab Victor’s arm.
“Well, that looks like Levi. Huh? Fancy that,” Victor says nonchalantly.
I whip my head to Victor. “Did you know this?”
“Would I have come if he wasn’t on the ice?” He smirks at me.
I turn my eyes back on the ice and see Levi standing up. His number ten is bright, as is his name across his shoulders. Levi is on the ice with the Penguins in the NHL. I feel tears of happiness filling up my eyes. He skates around, shooting the puck a couple of times. He spins around and looks up in the stands. His eyes land on mine, and I blow a kiss. He smiles and skates off.
I sit back in my chair and look at Victor. “I thought you loved me?”
“I love you as if you were my own daughter,” Victor states.
“Then you should have told me.”
“Oh, I know how much you love surprises.” He bumps my shoulder.
I couldn’t be mad at Victor. I giggle at him.
Everyone skates off the ice, and I’m bouncing in my seat. I can’t wait to see Levi on the ice. Victor grabs us each a bottle of water. We sit there in silence, and I know that we both are nervous for Levi.
Finally, the lights dim, and the crowd begins to scream. Of course, they aren’t screaming for the Penguins, but I am. I’m yelling for my Levi. I know that he won’t be on the first shift, but I can see him on the bench. His face is determined and ready for the win.
Levi is on the third shift, and he’s on a great line. He’s on his game. Levi is amazing on the ice. When the buzzer ends for the first period, the score is tied at zero. Victor and I spend the intermission talking about how great Levi is doing.
It’s in the second period that Levi gets his chance. The Pens are up by two and Levi’s shift takes to the ice. He’s battling with another player for the puck. He gains possession and passes it to a teammate, but then it’s back to Levi and he takes off for the other end of the ice. Oh my God. He’s got a breakaway. This could be his first goal! The seconds pass in slow motion as I watch him approach the net with two players advancing on him.
One comes from the side, crashing into Levi as he shoots. It looks like he trips as he falls forward, the guy slamming him all the way into the boards opposite of us. The noise is deafening as the glass rattles, Levi hitting the wall awkwardly, the puck going wide. But I barely notice as I stand, my heart no longer beating.
Levi isn’t getting up. Why isn’t he getting up? Play stops and a player kneels next to him, blocking my view, as two people from the bench rush over to him. I can see a leg move and then the two men are on each side of a dazed Levi, helping him off the ice, taking him back down the tunnel.
Oh, God. His first game on his first shot at a goal, and he gets hurt. I turn to Victor, see the fear in his eyes, and I know it was as bad as it looked.
“I’m sure that he’ll be okay,” Victor says, taking my hand.
Gulping, I stupidly look at the jumbotron where Levi’s collision is on replay. I don’t have the stomach to watch the rest of this game. “Do you think they’ll tell us anything or let us see him?” I ask, worry coating my words.
“Let’s go find out.”
Chapter Ten
Levi
Ugh, my head hurts like a bitch. They just finished evaluating me, and I’ve got a fucking concussion. A concussion! It replays in my mind for the millionth time. I made a breakaway, speeding across the ice, but two guys were gaining on me. Swinging my stick back, I went to score and one of them hit me. I lost my balance, fell forward, and collided with the boards, namely my head and then everything went black. I woke up about thirty seconds later, I think. To make it even worse, my shot went wide.
I blew it.
I fucking failed big time.
My first chance to prove I could make it, and I blew it. Just then, Presley and Pops walk in. Oh, great. Not only did I fuck up my chance, but they watched me do it. I had almost forgotten they were here, and I really don’t want to talk to either of them. All I want is to go home. I’ve overstayed my welcome at this arena. That much is crystal clear. Presley rushes to give me a hug. Reluctantly, I return it.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispers.
I’m not okay. I’ve got a fucking concussion from my first NHL game on my first shot. I’m nowhere close to being okay.
“Yeah, me too,” I deadpan. “Surprise,” I add in the same tone.
She pulls away with a frown on her face, but I don’t care that I’ve upset her. This was my shot and it backfired.
Pops grabs my shoulder and says, “You scared us for a minute there, son. We should get you home.”
Honestly, I don’t want to stay with either one of them, but it’s too late for them to take me back tonight. All I want is to suffer by myself as I analyze my massive mistake. After a few minutes, we’re in the car on our way home. Presley heads to Pops’ first to drop him off. When I get out of the car, Pres asks what I’m doing.
“I’m going to stay here tonight.”
“You don’t want to go with me?” Her lips pout a little. I doubt she even knows she’s doing it. Tonight, I dislike that pout nearly as much as I hate this day. All it does is annoy the hell out of me.
“No,” I answer coldly.
Slamming the door, I leave my father behind and go inside, straight to my room. How did this happen? If I’m disappointed in myself, then I know Pops, Presley, and probably Momma are too. I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at all the hockey things I’ve collected over the years that Momma put together before she died. I look at it as if it’s the answer to everything. As if it could fix this. But there’s no way to fix it now. Who knows how long I stare at it, but the anger at my situation rises more and more as each second passes.
“Levi?”
I turn to look at Pops. “Yeah?”
He walks over and sits next to me. “You know I don’t usually get involved-”
“Then don’t,” I interrupt, already knowing where this is going. I don’t need to hear his shit right now. He can fuss at me all he wants later. Just not now.
“Levi James,” he chides sternly, but I stop him again.
“I really don’t want to hear it, Pops.”
“I don’t care, Levi. There is no excuse for acting that way towards Presley. If you want to be angry, that’s fine. But don’t you dare take it out on her.”
My vision blurs slightly, and I rub my eyes. Will he leave me alone already? “Fine. I’ll call her tomorrow and apologize.”
“You better.” He pats my knee. “You’ll be back in the game in no time, Levi. Don’t worry about that. Your health is the most important thing right now.” Then he stands and finally leaves.
My health is the most important thing? What about the fact that I screwed this up? What about how I’m not playing with the Penguins for sixty minutes? Finding that part of the wall my mom decorated with all my hockey stuff before she died, I continue staring, memorizing every detail. Those things mean nothing in this moment because one thing is clear.
I’ve failed.
Not only have I failed, but until this fucking concussion and the symptoms clear, I’m out of the game. I sigh as my thoughts turn towards my mother. She wouldn’t be happy that my first shot with her team ended with a stupid injury. My head throbs and I feel like I might be sick. After changing into pajamas, I lay down in bed as my phone vibrates on the nightstand.
Presley: You’re a great player, Levi. You’ll get another chance. Love you.
Levi: I was an ass. Sorry. Call you tomorrow. Love you too.
I only texted her back because of my father. Pops can drive me back tomorrow morning. These next couple days, I’m supposed to take it easy and then be reevaluated again. Hopefully, I can start playing again soon, but with the way I feel, I doubt it.
What a fan-fucking-tastic day.
~
Three days after that dreadful game, I’ve barely spoken to Presley or Pops. That’s exactly the way I want it too. All they do is ask how I’m feeling or reassure me that I’ll be back in no time. It’s exhausting to hear, especially when I’m having trouble sleeping and still experiencing headaches. That’s not a good sign for a speedy recovery. Jayson and Landon have been okay, but they are gone during the day most of the time. Like today.
Part of me hates it because all I can think about is how I got hurt. I replay it in my head over and over, looking for my mistake. Was I too slow? Too off-balanced? Too nervous? Or is it as simple as the fact that I wasn’t good enough to start with? That is the answer I keep coming back to because there shouldn’t have been a mistake. I shouldn’t have gotten hurt. It slams into me hard that I’m not good enough for my one passion in life.
What the hell am I supposed to do about that? Keep playing in the AHL? Give up on my dreams of being in the NHL? Simply lose hope now and go back to school? Hockey is everything. I can’t do without it, even if it means never reaching my dreams. There’s a rapid knocking on the front door, halting my train wreck of thoughts. Who is here? Begrudgingly, I get up and open the door to find Presley.
“Shouldn’t you be in class?” I ask, as she pushes her way past me to come inside.
“Why are you ignoring me, Levi?” Her hands prop on her hips, and I can’t help but notice she’s wearing her Fuck Me boots.
Ugh, I don’t want to deal with this today. Walking past her, I go to my room. Of course, she follows, ranting the whole way.
I sit at the foot of the bed, run my hand over my face, quickly becoming frustrated as she paces in front of me. Her walking back and forth is bothering me as much as her mouth. “A good girlfriend would leave me alone when I don’t want to be bothered. Thought you would have learned that by now, Presley.”
“Don’t even, Levi. I-”
I interrupt her with a loud voice to shut her up. “Pretty sure they told me to minimize my stress. You’re fucking stressing me out, Presley.” I try to massage my forehead.
Her boots appear in front of me. “Maybe you wouldn’t be stressed if you would stop being mad at everyone on the freaking planet!” Her voice softens as my eyes travel up her body and she pleads, “Talk to me, Levi.”
Quickly, I stand, wrap her legs around my waist and walk forward until she slams against the wall, causing the door to rattle. Presley’s eyes are wide and her chest heaves from surprise, her breasts brushing against my chest as I lean into her body.
Closing my eyes, I absorb the feel of her and say punctually, “I don’t want to talk.”
She feels so good against me. Presley doesn’t wait for me as she grips my neck, pulling me into a kiss. My hands sneak underneath her shirt, squeezing her breasts before I turn around and lay us on the bed. I unzip her boots, tug them off, then do the same to her pants as she pulls her shirt and bra off. Once I’ve taken off all my clothes and grabbed a condom, I hover over her. I kiss and nip my way down her body, starting with her shoulder. The nips are sharp and short as I pull a pinch of her skin between my teeth and bite down harshly.
One hand holds me up while I massage one of her breasts with the other. I swirl my tongue around her nipple, suck, and then place my teeth around it to nip. Presley moans as her hands dig into my forearms.
“Cross your wrists above your head,” I command. She does as I said, and I place my hand over her wrists to keep them there. Presley’s already wiggling underneath me, arching her back, begging for my touch.