I shrugged out of my suit jacket and loosened my tie. Crown Point’s locker room was nice and roomy, which worked in my favor because I had my eye on a few select Wolves that required my assistance.
Required my assistance, threat, whatever.
I put my phone into my pocket after texting Riley and letting her know we made it. She was staying home tonight. She and Sutton were going to watch the game on TV with pizza and beer after she did some stretches. I’d asked if she’d show me some stretches next time we were alone, and she sent me a naughty emoji and said she would.
My dick twitched, even hundreds of miles away.
“You ready to make these guys our bitch?” Theo asked, slapping me on the shoulder. He had been in a good mood lately because he and his little fake girlfriend were no longer fake. His future was shaping up with a good girl by his side and a confirmation from his dream team—something I was still waiting for.
It wasn’t too late to receive an offer or talk with a scout. And if I played my cards right, Coach wouldn’t get in the way of me signing with the Hops.
Theo just so happened to secure his before anyone else in the league.
“I’m ready,” I answered, throwing my fist up. Theo went around and gave a few more fist bumps, even stopping by Sully and allowing him to touch knuckles with our captain.
I paused, breaking my neck to look at Sully’s hand after the blackened color caught my eye.
Wait a fucking second.
“Why are your knuckles busted, Graham?” I couldn’t help but mention it.
Theo glanced down at his hand.
“That’s why you’ve been ready to go for practice this week, huh? Fully dressed and on the ice before anyone else. You’ve been hiding those healing cuts beneath your gloves.”
Theo shook his head. “Fighting. Really? Save that shit for the ice and be smart about it.”
“Meaning, don’t get thrown into the sin bin like our boy over here?”
Efrain snickered at Sullivan’s attempt at being in good standing with Theo.
Our boy. I knew he wasn’t talking about me.
Theo launched into a team “talk,” reprimanding the guys and warning them about keeping their head in the game and making good choices. It was our last game in the regular season, and we’d had nearly a perfect season, setting us up well for our conference tourney.
I tuned out the chatter after Theo was done playing Dad and changed into my warm-up gear. I kept my eye on Sully, knowing we had a shit-ton of beef that we needed to work through before our attempt at securing a spot in the Frozen Four. Stay calm.
I shuffled in a quick, calming breath before spinning to pin him with a look. The locker room was dwindling, and the chatter had died down. “Your plan failed.”
He flicked an eyebrow, arrogance falling on his face like a mask. “What plan? Scoring with the coach’s daughter?”
Just the thought of her in his mind caused havoc in my body. “Beating the shit out of Gray and wanting me to take the blame for it.”
There was a quick movement of something on his face. He pulled his helmet down in an attempt to cover it. “Not sure what you’re talkin’ about.”
My voice strained with a gritty noise. “You think I don’t know that you were the one to spread the rumor that I beat up Gray at the party? He told the press that he had been jumped. All fingers pointed to me. Except, I wasn’t there that night. You were.”
Naturally, after Coach showed up at my apartment that morning, I dug into the accusations that flooded around campus. There was zero proof that I had touched Gray, and with Riley’s admittance that I was with her that night, Coach made sure to send the right message to every news article that inquired a response.
It had Graham Sullivan all over it.
He was throwing a hissy fit because Riley and I had played him at his own game.
Our feud ran deep, but he needed to drop it before I ruined his career.
“So where were you that night? Tryin’ to win your own bet?” he asked, knowing very well where I was. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t dense.
“You think I won’t throw you under the bus? Because I can march right into Coach’s office and tell him that you made a bet with the underclassmen on this team to see who could fuck his daughter first.”
He threw his head back and laughed, slipping on his gloves to hide the marks from his tiff with Gray. “And how ironic is it that you’re the one fucking her? I can throw you under the bus too, Aasher.”
“Does our rival run that fucking deep that you’d ruin this team’s chances at winning, Sully? Just let it go and tell your little fuckheads to let it go too, or I’ll take them down with you.” I’d tried being patient, but my patience was running very fucking thin.
He smiled, and I pictured ramming my fist into his face and knocking his teeth out all over this goddamn floor.
“I don’t know, Matthews. You tell me. I called dibs on her first, and you just had to swoop in and beat me. Like usual.”
There was a big difference between us.
I didn’t give a shit about our feud.
And my interests in Riley had nothing to do with him.
It had everything to do with her.
“See you on the ice. Make sure to steal the puck from me too. God forbid you let me score for once.” Sully stomped away.
Emory popped around the edge of the lockers and stood beside me to watch him leave. My blood rushed with so much anger I shook. A few seconds passed before he leaned in. “Take that shit out on the ice. Pretend the puck is his face. Do whatever you have to do, but don’t stoop to his level and fuck us all.”
My teeth ground against one another with frustration, but I planned to do exactly what Emory said.
After all, Sully could threaten me all he wanted.
He couldn’t take me down without going down too.
The Hawks were lethal, and their student section was even rowdier than ours. Their goalie gave Emory a run for his money—both of them blocking pucks left, right, up, down, and every other direction you could think of.
I hadn’t forgotten about the conversation with Sully, but I did let it fuel me with swift speed on the ice. Coach pulled me aside at one point and asked if I needed to sit, but I brushed him off, slipping past Sully while managing to keep my stick to myself.
There were only two minutes left to go, and we were tied.
One to one.
Theo zoomed past me, ice slicing up in his wake. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, but keep it up and pay attention. Coach wants us to do the whip.”
Sully tapped his stick against the ice before taking off after Theo. We’d practiced this drill so many times, but I had a feeling that Sully was about to fuck it up because of me. I wanted to believe that he wouldn’t stoop so low because his future rode on this team’s back too, but I also didn’t know him as well as I thought. We had unresolved issues, but I thought we were both man enough to keep it off the ice until now.
“Fuck,” I mumbled, skating toward center ice. Riley crossed my mind for a brief second, and I could see her now, pacing back and forth in front of the TV as she watched us strive for our last win of the season.
“Whip!” Coach yelled from the side.
I followed his cue and nodded to Theo.
Time moved in slow motion. Sully slipped to the right when he was supposed to go to the left. Ford zipped past, and there was a hint of confusion there as we caught eyes. Fuck.
“If you fuck this up, you’re dead. Don’t make me clean up another one of your messes,” I seethed under my breath.
Sully’s lips flattened, and my stomach turned.
One of the Crown Point players saw the diversion in our team, and they knew it was a gap they could weasel themselves into.
“Crow!” I yelled to Theo.
His rebuttal of me changing the play lasted only a second before he looked over to Sully, seeing that he wasn’t in line with the rest of us.
The problem with adding a new player to a team full of seniors was that the new player was never quite in sync, especially if they were as slithery as Sully. It was a good thing Theo could adapt, though, because when he flew forward, shifting back and forth over the ice, we all followed suit.
The puck zipped over to Ford and then to me, missing the edge of a Crown Point’s stick by a hair. I channeled my anger and focused on what I needed to do for the team, and the puck zipped underneath Whiteshaw’s padded knee, and the buzzer sounded.
Relief sunk onto my shoulders, and I took my first full deep breath since my chat with Sully in the locker room.
I threw my stick to the ground and ripped my helmet off. My team rushed over and crowded me as our fans raved in the background. Theo’s bare hand slapped my shoulder as he brought me in for a hug.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked under his breath.
“That was me getting us a win,” I answered. “I’ll explain later.”
His jaw flickered, but he was happy with the win, just like the rest of the team. No one truly cared how we won, just that we did.
Unless you were Sully.
He acted with fake glee, skating around the rink with his hands raised above his head, egging the crowd on. I scanned the stands, watching them lose it over his encouragement and froze at a distant sight that hit me square in the chest.
“What—”
My parents.
They were beaming with pride. My mom had her cowbell, still painted blue and white—my high school’s colors. Her graying brown hair was pulled into a low bun, but she must have shaken the bell so hard that some thin strands had fallen out.
“Thataboy, Matthews!” my dad’s shout was raspy.
How are they here?
I wasn’t an emotional person by any means. But my vision grew blurry.
“Is that your mom?” Ford asked, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
I nodded, pulling my attention away from their overjoyed faces. I didn’t understand how or why they were here, but what I did know was that my pride swelled.
“Your mom is hot in person.”
I snapped my neck over so fast that it popped. Ford ducked as I wound my arm back and tried to punch him. His laughter echoed through the hall as we made our way back to the locker room where Coach was elated.
The team was celebrating our last win of the season, even as we descended to the bus. I spotted Coach talking to his wife, and I stopped mid-step.
My parents were huddled close. My dad’s hand was intertwined in my mom’s as she laughed at something Coach’s wife said. I shuffled over the pavement, glancing at the starry sky behind them in the distance.
“Hun.” My mom pulled away from my dad and wrapped me in a hug.
She was small. I towered over her, and my arms could have wrapped around her slender body twice.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. They couldn’t afford it, and we all knew it.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Riley’s mom—er, Coach’s wife—patted my arm.
Did they do this?
“That was a good game, son. I didn’t realize how much I missed watching you play in person.”
I grinned at my dad after pulling away from my mom’s warm grasp. There was a tight feeling in my gut, reminding me how much I owed my parents for sticking by me, even when I thought my world was falling apart.
After everything happened with Savannah, my dad asked me what happened. He wanted to know if I did something to cause her spiral. There was no anger, just curiosity. I told him the truth. I told him how guilty I felt for not speaking up and for not being there for her like I should have been.
He stayed quiet, patted my back, and told me that we learned from our mistakes. And then he and my mom found a way to get me to Bexley U. He worked double shifts during my freshman year to cover my books because the loans weren’t as hefty as we would have liked. Savannah’s dad fucked us, but my parents held their chins high and got me to where I was now.
“I’m glad you came,” I managed to choke out.
The bus lights flickered, and Coach shook my dad’s hand, knowing we needed to get going. We talked for a few more minutes before Coach and his wife walked over to the bus, giving me a private moment with my parents.
“You look so handsome.”
“Mom.” I grinned as she tried to fix my tie. “The game is over. We’re going back to the hotel, and I’m crashing until morning. My tie is fine.”
She brushed me off. “Just let me take care of you.”
I laughed. “Fine.”
My dad shook his head and grabbed my mom’s waist, pulling her into him. “You better go.” He inched his head toward the bus.
Shrugging, I hoisted my bag up higher on my shoulder. “Not until you two tell me how you got here.”
I did the math in my head. It was a six-hour drive from my hometown to Crown Point. My dad’s 2007 Ford F150 was a gas guzzler—and front row tickets?
“Did you get a bonus that I’m not aware of?”
Highly unlikely.
My sigh matched his. The Bexley U logo on his shirt stretched when his chest puffed out. Both of my parents were hesitant to tell me. Their eyes were shifty and they shuffled on their feet.
“Coach?” I probed. “His wife?”
I paused as a flicker of realization nestled into my chest.
Riley.
“You know what.” I pulled my mom into another hug. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you two made it.”
They’d be at every game if they could.
I knew it.
They didn’t have to tell me.
“We love you,” my dad said, shaking my hand before pulling me in for a hug.
“I know.” I nodded. “I love you too.”
“Aasher! Let’s go.” Ford stuck his head out the door. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Matthews!”
My mom waved to Ford, already knowing exactly who he was because he had FaceTimed her several times from my phone. He had a way of slipping into everyone’s lives.
“Text me when you get back to school tomorrow so I know you’ve made it.”
“I will,” I said, knowing I’d hear from my dad if I didn’t.
Once I climbed on the bus and pulled my phone out, I opened my texts and tapped on her name.
Duster: Impressive, Matthews. Very impressive.
I pressed myself back into my seat, and heat coated my chest.
Me: It was you, wasn’t it?
It was late. She may have been sleeping.
I clicked my phone off, but it buzzed a second later. Swiping up, I turned the brightness down and blocked out the continuous celebration from my team. They were rowdy, some planning on sneaking away to hit the bars before needing to get on the bus at eight a.m. sharp. I had no desire to go out. In fact, I wished we could drive through the night so I’d be back to Bexley U faster.
Duster: What are you talking about?
I smiled. Who did she think I was?
Me: Don’t play coy with me, Duster. You had something to do with my parents coming to my game.
Duster: Don’t be mad, please.
How could I ever be angry with her for doing something like that?
Me: I know you’re used to an asshole like Gray, but I’m not him. You somehow managed to get my parents to one of my games—something that I know they will be forever grateful for. That is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, Duster.
She was out of her mind if she thought I was angry. If anything, it made me fall for her even harder. Not only was she on board with me keeping us a secret until the end of the season—even without knowing that her dad threatened my chances at the NHL—but now she was making moves like this? Riley Lennon had nestled herself right next to my heart.
You couldn’t live without a beating heart, and I was pretty certain I couldn’t live without her either.
Duster: So, you’re not mad?
Me: I’m the furthest thing from mad. I want to do nothing but kiss you right now, so get ready for tomorrow night, baby, because I’m going to prove to you that I’m nothing like Gray, and I fully plan on appreciating you the way you deserve.
Only, she deserved to be flaunted around.
Not shoved behind a closed door.
