My virginity, or lack thereof, is living proof.
“That’s okay. I prefer to watch Kellan when he doesn’t know I’m here. He’s like a caged animal when he doesn’t think he needs to impress me.” She sits down, and I take the spot beside her. “Like damn, look at those thighs.”
“How can you even tell what his thighs look like through all the padding?” I ask, glancing around the ice for no one in particular. At least that’s the lie I’m telling myself.
“It’s called an imagination.” She sticks out her tongue and bites down on it. “Like for instance, under all those hockey pads is a big, long—” I punch her in the arm, and she rubs it, glaring at me. “Jesus, okay. Sorry. Just saying you should try it. Take Beckett, for instance. He’s out there, skating around the ice like a duck on a pond, looking awfully hot.”
“And your point?” I ask, drawing my eyes to where he’s at on the ice, leaning on his stick listening to my dad order half the team around. He looks up at me, and I wave. His grin is infectious. Falling for him could be easy.
He’s there one second, and then the next, someone slams into him, forcing his stick to fly in the air, and his body to hit the ice with a loud thud heard where I sit.
A whistle blows, and Beckett’s quick to his feet, getting in someone’s face. “What the fuck, man?” His anger echoes through the rink.
The assailant’s helmet comes off. It’s Nick, his hands up as he retreats from Beckett. “It was an accident,” he pleads, swooping his helmet off the ice and pulling it back on.
“Like hell it was. You just blindsided me, asshole.” Beckett charges him, but my father steps in the way. Beckett knows better than to continue. For an older man, my dad doesn’t play any games. He’s likely to knock them both on their asses if they try.
“After practice, you two”— he points between them— “will be running drills. Kovac, you’d think you’d learned your lesson the other night.”
“Coach, come on. It was an accident. I couldn’t stop on my skates.” From the stands, I can see the grin through his helmet. What’s his deal?
“You’ve been skating for as long as you’ve been walking.” My dad blows his whistle one more time, smacking Nick on the helmet. “After practice, you got it? And for the rest of you, let’s finish practice with a scrimmage.”
Nicole snickers. “What’s gotten into Nick?”
I shrug, watching them practice and feeling guilty for not listening to whatever Nicole is yammering on about. She’s all I have left, and usually I’d go to Mia to talk about this, but since that’s not an option, I turn to face Nicole.
She jerks back, stunned by my sudden proximity. “What?”
“Can I ask you something?” I gnaw my bottom lip, my gaze bouncing between the ice and her.
“You’re kind of freaking me out.” Her eyes widen. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong.” I wave my hand, dismissing her concern. “At least I don’t think there’s anything wrong.” I stand, stepping over the bench to pace.
“Spit it out before you start a fire in your Converses.” She leans forward, a gleam in her eyes, because she can smell the gossip I’m about to unpack.
Here goes nothing.
“Did Mia have a problem with you and Kellan?” I blurt this shit instead of my actual question. I’m an idiot.
Nicole’s eyebrows squeeze together, and her nose scrunches like she smells something sour. “We kept it a secret for a while because we weren’t sure how you guys would take it, but decided to tell her closer to the end.”
“We were all stunned.” I cringe.
When I think of Kellan, I see him as Mia’s younger brother. Never once have I looked at Kellan in any way but as a protective sister. You’d have to be blind not to see how attractive the guy is, but to me, he’s a brother.
Nicole sees sex. That’s it.
“Whose brother you trying to hook up with?” She sticks her leg out, blocking my path. “Beckett doesn’t have a sister, does he?”
“That’s not the point.” I run my finger over my eyebrow, hoping it will alleviate some of my stress.
Nicole doesn’t deserve my frustration. This much I know, but it has to go somewhere. Let’s be real, I’m a teenage girl. It’s leaving my mind and heading in the direction of the closest body.
“What exactly is the point?” Nicole stands, holding a finger in the air.
I follow her eyeline and see practice is coming to an end. Kellan skates off the ice, and she returns her full attention to my dumb ass.
How long have I been standing here, debating something that holds zero significance? This is why I shouldn’t have said anything. Nicole is one relentless chick. She won’t let this go.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” I grab my bag and wave her off, but her hand wraps around my wrist, stopping me. I glance back, and her expression softens.
“I know I’m not her, but I’m always here if you need me.” She hurries off, leaving me wondering if I’ve been unfair to Nicole all this time.
That sort of seems to be the problem for us lately. We aren’t her when she’s all any of us need. She was our everything, and now, we’re left trying our hardest to pick up the pieces. Some of us know how to navigate the waters, like Nicole and Kellan. They’ve leaned on each other, making the new reality easier. Nick and I, well, we’re pushing forward, though maybe in the wrong direction.
I can’t think about this. That night in his basement is all I’ve been thinking about, and it’s not getting me anything but more confused.
Now, here comes a good distraction.
Beckett skates up to the wall, pulls off his helmet, and grins his pearly white smile, like he knows how good looking he is.
“So, it may be a little longer than I thought.” His eyelashes bat innocently.
“Yeah, I saw that out there.” I point along the ice. “What was that all about?”
He leans on the wall, holding out his hand. I step down and put mine in his. “I don’t know.” His finger tickles my thumb, and my cheeks burn from the attention. “Please wait for me.”
“Yeah, o-kay,” I stutter, sounding like a complete idiot. This earns me another smile. How’d I not notice his adorable dimples? “Sure, I mean, I’ll be here.”
“You’re awfully cute, Hannah Barnes, when you blush like that.” With confidence, he skates backwards to the center of the ice where my dad waits.
“I’m not blushing!” I yell, touching my cheeks.
“You sure are,” Nick says, coming out of nowhere to block my enjoyable view of Beckett. “Desperation isn’t a cute look, Hannah.”
Nick’s helmet covers most of his face, but it’s hard to ignore the scowl screaming at me. His eyebrows are scrunched together like they’re trying to become one, and his cheeks are flushed. I can’t tell if it’s from working hard at practice, or if this unsaid aggression that’s suddenly sparked inside of him is aimed at me.
“What’s your problem?” I grab my bag and turn away, not caring to hear what he has to say. One minute we’re making this connection, or some morphed version of a connection, to help us both with Mia’s passing. No sort of friendship will ever alleviate our loss, but I’d thought we could help each other. Maybe I was wrong.
“No problem here, Hannah.” Does he seriously have the balls to sound annoyed at me? I turn as he yanks off his helmet, lightly tapping it against his leg. “Just thought a sweet girl like you would know the difference between a guy who’s actually interested in you, and one who’s only interested in your body.”
“Hey, Nick?” I call, turning and walking back to where he stands.
A loud whistle blows, and he circles to face my dad. My hand smacks his back hard, and he falls to the ice. Damn, that is satisfying. I glare at him and laugh when he gazes at me in bewildered, wide-eyed shock.
Nick bites the inside of his cheek. He opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up my finger to shut him the hell up.
�
��Quit being an asshole, Nick.” I smirk. He needs to know how much I enjoyed knocking him on his ass. I head to the locker room and pause at the door. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot, Beckett.”
My father’s glare shifts between me and his player, a skeptic expression on his face, flattening his lips. He releases me from his stare, but I catch him eyeing Nick, who’s skating up to him. They have a small exchange while looking at me. Nick nods, obviously agreeing with something my dad has said, and starts off on the suicides he’s earned. Beckett follows suit, racing up and down the rink, like it’s suddenly become a competition.
Twenty minutes later, and three chapters in, I’m fully distracted from anything going on around me. Something pulls my foot, and my body slides down the hood of my car. An exaggerated yelp bursts from my mouth, as I struggle to keep my balance.
I punch Nick in the chest, only to have him grin at me.
“It isn’t funny, and I’m mad at you.” I scoot backwards enough to rest my feet on the front bumper. “That shit you pulled inside the rink? Not nice, Nick.”
He steps closer, and my knees spread on their own volition. They might as well send Nick an invitation. His hands rest right next to my hips, and he angles over me. His hair is wet from his shower, and I’m tempted to brush my fingers through it, but that will only bring on consequences and conversations I’m not willing to have.
“You’re mad, and you have every right to be,” he whispers. His eyes smolder, and I squirm.
“I’m sorry, what?” I lean back, resting on my hands. Something low in my stomach clutches from his closeness. “Did you just say I was right?”
Being playful is easy for us until his eyes darken like an unpredictable storm.
“You’re driving me crazy, Hannah.” His head lowers, the wet ends of his hair cooling the skin at the base of my neck.
“What does that even mean?” I shake my head, confused and flustered by the sudden rush from him being this intimate with me.
He turns away enough for me to notice he’s looking at something, and I follow his stare to find Beckett searching the parking lot for me. Nick bends closer, his chest brushing mine, and his mouth moves dangerously close to my ear. “He’s the one who’s interested in your body, and I’m the one who’s interested in you, all of you.”
My body tingles like a warning. This can’t be happening. I would have been perfectly happy ignoring the way Nick made me feel the other night from that point on, but now?
Breathe, Hannah!
“You just changed everything,” I whisper. “You know that, right?”
Beckett edges closer and closer to us as the seconds tick by in silence. Nick remains tucked between my legs, but now his eyes are devouring me. There’s no denying what is right in front of me. He wants me.
Beckett stops beside us, and Nick backs away. His eyes stay planted on me, though. My breaths aren’t coming naturally, and if I could, I’d vanish into thin air right here and now.
Does Nick mean what he’s saying? Or am I just the first person he feels a connection to? This closeness could be purely based on Mia’s passing, and that’s not okay. My heart is an open wound, and he’s spilled salt inside my chest.
“You ready to go, Han?” Beckett says, oblivious to what’s happening.
I don’t have the nerve to look at Beckett. My eyes widen, taking in Nick’s suddenly sheepish demeanor. His shoulders are slumped, and his head hangs low. He regrets saying what he did, and his lack of eye contact tells me everything I need to know. I refuse to be a notch on his bedpost or his gateway to dealing with his grief.
“Yeah, let’s go.” I slide down the hood and take Beckett’s offered hand. Because I believe in torturing myself, I glance back and see Nick now sitting on the hood of my car. He looks like a defeated man. “Bye, Nick.”
He doesn’t budge or even flinch at my goodbye. When I’m tucked in Beckett’s car, Nick pushes off mine and heads to his truck. He grabs a hockey stick from his bag and slams it into the parking lot, snapping it in half.
“You okay?” Beckett asks.
“I will be,” I lie.
Chapter Ten
Nick
Out of nowhere, Hannah appears in front of me. “Are you going to talk to me? Or just walk around like you didn’t say what you did?”
“I don’t have time for this. I have a game I need to focus on.” I try to move past her, flinging my bag over my shoulder. “And it’s been over a week, Hannah.” When I force us face-to-face, she jolts back. “A week. I said it a week ago, and I mean it just as much now as I did then.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” She plants her feet, blocking the locker room doors.
“You’ve been a little busy, now, haven’t you?” I look over her shoulder at Beckett walking towards us.
It’s been a torturous seven days since we’d last talked, since I’d said what I did. In the moment, it felt right. I find myself wanting to be around Hannah. She has a way of relaxing me. In the beginning, I’d taken her caring nature for granted and pushed her away, and then like a flip of a switch, it has turned into something else.
“See you later, Hannah.” I wave two fingers and head into the locker room, not willing to watch Beckett hang all over her.
Coach stops me and tells me the plan for tonight. It’s the same as always. Get out on the ice and kill them, like there’s any other option. It’s my first game back after being benched.
I throw my bag in my locker and plug in my headphones, listening to my playlist to pump me up before the game. I slide on my pads and sit down on the bench, closing my eyes to focus on what’s about to happen. After watching film for hours last night, the team knows it’s not going to be an easy win. These guys are tough, quick on the skates, and last year, they were ranked one spot ahead of us in our league.
My headphones are tugged off my ears, and I circle on whoever has touched them. “What the fuck!”
Beckett stands, his hands on his hips like a little bitch. “What did you say to her?”
“Say to who?” I step over the bench to come chest to chest with him.
“Boys!” Coach Barnes hollers over the commotion of everyone piling into the locker room.
I hold my hands up and retreat, ignoring Beckett to get ready for the game. Beckett takes up space right beside me, his eyes burning into the side of my face.
“Williamson, you have a crush on me or something?” I square my shoulders and look him up and down, challenging him to say one more fucking word to me.
“You said something to Hannah, and she stormed off upset,” Beckett explains.
“And you came here to avenge her?” I roll my eyes, releasing an exhausted breath. “She’s a big girl. If she has a problem with what I said to her, then she can walk her happy ass in here and tell me herself. Her boyfriend doesn’t need to come to me.”
I grab my jersey and the rest of my pads, bumping my shoulder into him as I leave. My blood boils, and I stand in the hallway, waiting for the rest of the team. Why am I letting Hannah underneath my skin? I shouldn’t care that she and Beckett are a thing, but I do. I sure as hell do, and now I don’t know what to do with myself.
It’s been a week of torture, dodging her in class and the hallway. She’s sat in the stands during practice more times than I’d like to admit I’ve noticed. No words have been spoken between us when all I’ve wanted to do is go to her and tell her I meant what I said.
I like her. That much is obvious, by the way my body reacts when she’s nearby, and how I’d give anything to pummel Williamson if he even mentions her name again. It’s taken every ounce of power inside me to keep myself from knocking my fist into the side of his skull at practice. He brags about their date, and even though I shouldn’t, I hate thinking about him and her together.
“You good?” Coach Barnes slaps me on the back, standing shoulder to shoulder with me, looking out onto the ice. “Saw that scene in the locker room? You and Beckett can’t seem to agree on anything these
days.” He tsks a couple of times and then looks at me. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with my little girl, would it?”
“Coach.” I say his name like I’m begging for my life.
“I can’t begin to understand what you kids went through a few months back.” He squeezes my shoulder. “I’m going to give you a free pass, Kovac, and try to believe your intentions, if there are any, are honorable.”
“Coach.” I turn and catch his back retreating into the locker room. “Fuck!”
What does he mean if my intentions are honorable? I’m not trying to screw his daughter and leave her on the side of the road, for fuck’s sake. Most of the time I’m a good guy. Hell, we all have our days, but I’d never do anything to hurt Hannah. She’s Mia’s best friend.
At the thought, my gloved fist slams against the plexiglass. She’s Mia’s best friend. This attraction isn’t a good idea to act on. I’ve overstepped, taken things too far. There’s zero self-control, and I’ve never felt this way.
With Mia, one day we simply were what we were, and it continued the same way until our last day together. This thing, these feelings I have stirring inside of me for Hannah, are unchartered territory.
I loved Mia, but, fuck, I want Hannah.
The problem is I don’t know what to do with that.
“You ready to get out on that ice and kill some motherfuckers, or are you just going to stand there all damn day?” At Kellan’s question, I snap out of the haze and hear the drumming of our music.
“Step out on that ice and let all that shit fall away,” Coach instructs, pushing me towards the rink, like he knows I need encouragement.
The cold air hits my face, and my shoulders instantly relax. Mia’s death is gone. My attraction for Hannah disappears. The only thing I see is the green jerseys I’m ready to bloody up.
Everything fades away, and I’m who I’m supposed to be. None of the other stuff matters.
In the first period, I play harder than I think I’ve ever played. Anger can be great fuel for a hockey player. During the second, I land in the penalty box twice. By the third, I’m ready to knock the head off their defensemen. They’re playing dirty. Number seven has an appreciation for hooking me, and no penalties are called. I drop my stick to the ice, throw up my hands in front of our bench, and gawk to Coach.
Under a Different Sky Page 11