When I step off the team bus at Elmwood University’s campus, Maya is talking to her brother near the players’ entrance. She texted me when she got here early with her friends so she could see him before the game.
Donnelly glares at me as I saunter over. It probably has to do with the fact his sister is wearing my jersey. The corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk.
“Hey,” Maya says.
We’ve snuck around so her brother didn’t know, but we’re past that now. If we weren’t, she wouldn’t be wearing my number to his game. The urge to claim her right in front of him crashes over me.
No more hiding this. Not when I want everyone to know she’s mine.
I fist the jersey and pull her in for a kiss. She freezes for a beat, then welcomes it with a little laugh.
“Hi, baby,” I murmur against her lips.
Donnelly crosses his arms and mutters in annoyance under his breath. “I fucking knew it. Can’t believe you’re with him.”
“Ryan,” Maya chides without looking away from me, her gorgeous eyes gleaming brightly. “You’ll just have to get over it.”
My smug expression softens. I give her one more tame kiss.
“Make sure you cheer for me,” I say. “Loud enough that I hear you over everyone else.”
She gives a small shake of her head, the corners of her mouth curled up. “Good luck—both of you,” she adds, cutting off my victorious chuckle. “Don’t give me that look, Easton. I can cheer for my boyfriend and my brother.”
“But more for me, right? You’re wearing my number this time.” I dodge with another laugh when she swats at me. “I guess I’ll just have to score to get your attention.”
Her eyes widen. “Don’t you dare risk a penalty to dedic—”
“Maya, every goal I score will always be for you.” I cradle her face with one hand, brushing my thumb over her cheek as it turns pink. “Every single one from now until my career ends.”
“I’m not sitting though this sick, sappy shit,” Donnelly grumbles. “I hope you enjoy eating those words when we beat Heston again.”
I don’t take my eyes off my girl. “Nah. I’ve got all the luck on my side tonight.”
“Blake!” Coach Kincaid calls from the doorway. “Let’s go.”
After one last peck to her forehead, I hike my bag higher on my shoulder and head inside. My focus through gearing up and getting ready for the game is honed in on the W.
Not only because that’s the outcome I want for every game, but to get revenge for the loss when we played our first game against them at home.
My team is ready to take Elmwood on and beat them and everyone else in Hockey East out for everything—from our conference title all the way to Frozen Four.
We hit the ice as warriors ready for battle, tapping our gloves together.
“Tonight we come out on top,” I say.
My team responds with competitive enthusiasm that makes me damn proud to be their captain.
Near the end of warm-ups, I glide by Maya’s section, winking at her and her friends. They tease her, pretending to swoon. She laughs and takes photos of the four of them decked out with support for Heston.
I circle around after shooting a few pucks on the net, none of which Reeves lets in. He’s in the zone tonight.
Slowing to a stop at the boards, I touch the glass with a broad smile. Maya mirrors it, looking so damn gorgeous.
She’s always beautiful, but something about seeing her wearing my jersey does me in.
Donnelly breaks the unwritten rule not to cross the red line to interrupt the moment. He checks into my side just light enough the referee nearby won’t call him on it before the game starts.
“Finish warming up,” he mutters as he herds me away.
Once he’s satisfied I’m separated from his sister, he changes directions to head for his team’s end.
I twist to shoot Maya a wink, then glide across the ice after him.
“What’s wrong, Donnelly? Jealous it’s me your sister cheers for now?” My cocky tone lowers as I slip my glove off to grab the back of his collar. “That it’s my jersey she wears to games?”
He shrugs me off with an irritated grunt. “Don’t even try me right now.”
I watch him with narrowed eyes.
“You ready?” Noah comes to a stop at my side.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go.”
I bump fists with him and head off the ice as warm-ups finish.
When I face Donnelly for puck drop, I’m more determined than ever to clinch this win. The puck hits the ice and I move in a blink, slamming into him while our sticks work to win the face-off.
I edge him out and pass to Theo. The first five minutes after the game starts are standard for two rival teams fighting to be the first with points on the board.
Before my starting shift is due to switch out with the second line, Donnelly comes flying at me from behind, almost taking me down. I catch my balance, banking left to get away from him.
Ignoring him, I follow the puck.
Fifteen seconds later he jabs me with his elbow when I block him from stealing the puck away from Hutch. When I swing around, his lip curls and he squints in dissatisfaction.
I crack my neck side to side, smirking. He’s being creative to get some cheap shots in—ones we both know the referees won’t call out.
If that’s how we’re playing, I won’t take it lying down.
I don’t get the chance to retaliate until I’m put back in for the next shift, high-fiving Elijah when his line trades places with mine. I shoot from the bench, launching over the boards to join game play, angling toward the puck’s location before my skates fully touch the ice.
“Let’s make it happen!” I yell.
“Hell yeah,” Theo whoops when he zooms past me, paired up with Hutchinson.
Adrenaline floods my veins, heart pounding while the three of us get the puck and link up to take it down the ice towards Elmwood’s crease. It looks like a solid play, the hair on my body standing on end with the anticipation of scoring.
It goes great until it doesn’t. Hutch gets tripped by a stick from a guy on defense. He swerves into the path of another player and the collision is brutal. A referee blows his whistle to stop the clock. Hutch gets to his feet, wincing when he puts his weight on his knee.
“Shake it off, Hutch.” I skate to his side, Theo and Noah coming up on the other to help get him to the bench. “You good, man?”
“For sure. Give me five to stretch it out. It just feels like I jarred it.”
I give him a supportive pat on the shoulder. “Good. We’ll take care of things on the ice until you’re back.”
Coach puts Madden in for the power play.
Elmwood’s down one defensive player, but they won’t make it easy on us. Their team drops one of their wingers back to cover when game play resumes.
At first, Elmwood has possession after winning the puck drop. They get deep into our zone, but Noah stops them. Madden picks up the pass from him and skates so fast I swear the ice should be melted in his wake.
He’s fucking fast, maybe quicker than me. It takes serious effort to catch up to him to provide the assist when Elmwood comes for us.
I keep an eye on our opponents and call for a pass, but when I turn around Madden is tangled with Donnelly. Both of them fling their sticks down. Jesus christ.
“Theo,” I shout.
“On it.” He’s already moving in for the puck.
I wedge between Madden and Donnelly to break it up, but the nearest ref isn’t having it. He pushes me away and takes Madden by the arm. Graves has a wild look in his eyes. His control seems seconds from snapping.
Shit. We can’t have him lose it on a game official.
“Come on, that guy started it.”
“Settle down,” the ref barks at me. “Unless you want to be booted from the game?”
I give him a stiff, forceful shake of my head. He lets us off with a strong warning and sends Madden back to the penalty box.
First period comes to an end without either side scoring. I slap Madden on the back when we head through the tunnel for the break, tuning out Coach yelling about waking up and putting up points in the second.
“I screwed up,” Madden mutters.
“Nothing you can do about it now, man. No point in dwelling on it.”
“Take your own advice, East,” Cameron says. “You need to leave it off the ice if you want to finish this game.”
“I’ll be fine. Donnelly’s just having a fucking pissy fit.” I swipe a hand over my mouth. “Do you guys have my back? He’s been getting in too many dirty shots the refs are missing.”
“Yeah,” Cameron answers without hesitation. “But watch it. We’re too close to playoffs to screw around.”
“I know. We’re kicking Elmwood’s ass tonight. Right?”
A chorus of cheers sounds around me from our teammates.
For the first half of second period, I remain focused on the game. Both teams get the puck in the net, tying the score.
I’m moving the puck down the center, looking for a winger to evade Elmwood’s defense when Donnelly trips me with his stick.
He covers it by checking into me, sending both of us crashing to the ice.
“You’re asking for it, you dick,” I snap.
Once again, the refs are ignorant to the shit he’s getting by their radar.
I shoot him a glare as I get to my feet and retrieve my stick, then chase down the puck. He’s right on my ass.
It was fun to clash with him at the beginning, two rivals duking out our frustrations.
Now he’s really pissing me off.
I ram my shoulder into him, sending him sideways before he comes at me with another cheap shot.
“What’s your problem, Donnelly?”
“You!” He bares his teeth, charging me when he should be chasing the puck in his team’s possession.
That’s it.
“You wanna go? Let’s fucking go.”
Donnelly shoves me, growing more heated. His gloves hit the ice and he comes at me.
I’m ready for him, tossing off my gloves to catch his jersey. He throws punches I block and dodge, then I get a good hit in. It sends a rush of gratification coursing through me.
We jerk and swing each other around in circles, ignoring the shouts from our teammates and the game officials.
“Why my sister, huh, asshole? You think you can toy with her? She deserves better than a player like you using her.”
Fury rips through me. We struggle, both of us unable to land another blow. I drag him closer by my grip on his jersey.
“Using her? You think I’m bad for her? That’s bullshit when your own teammate couldn’t treat her right.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
My head jerks in disbelief. I open my mouth, more than ready to fucking unleash on him for being so blind to what Maya went through, but before I can get another word out the refs are in our faces to break up the fight.
The benches are empty, both our full rosters on the ice fighting. It’s an all-out brawl.
“You’re a liar, Blake,” Donnelly bellows while he’s dragged away from me.
I struggle against the guy holding me back, gritting my teeth. Once they’re sure we’re not going to go for each other’s throats, they corral us.
“You’re done,” the other ref says.
I stiffen, thumbing the huddle of players being pulled apart from their scuffles. “What, are you going to kick all of us to the sin bin? Who’s left to play the game?”
The refs exchange a look.
Donnelly lurches forward. “I didn’t do shit.”
“Shut up, idiot.” I yank him back, growing annoyed all over again. “Look, we started this. Just give us the max penalty.”
The older ref narrows his eyes. “You both deserve a two-game suspension for that display of misconduct.”
I grit my teeth. We can’t afford that.
“Get your asses to the penalty box,” he says.
Relief loosens the knot in my chest. I nod, eyeing Donnelly. He looks me up and down, lip curled.
We’re not done. But it will have to wait.
After a beat, I head for the penalty box, tearing off my helmet to shake out my damp hair. As much as I want to smash his face into the ice for what he said, I can’t risk another fight because there’s no way the referees will be so lenient after this. They’ll look for any excuse to throw us out of the game.
I spend ten straight minutes glaring at Donnelly, arms crossed, knee bouncing.
The clock for second period runs out while Donnelly and I sit out. Coach Kincaid comes over with a grim look once I’m released. He pats my shoulder.
“Good luck, kid.”
“Don’t call me that. I hate it when you do that,” I mutter.
Before I head into the underbelly of the arena, I scan the crowd for Maya. She’s on her feet at the opposite end of the ice, hands pressed to the glass. It’s too difficult to make out her expression from here, but just seeing her is enough to anchor me and calm me down.
Coach Lombard waits for me in the tunnel. He folds his arms across his chest, leveling me with a look that makes me feel two inches tall. I dip my chin before he has to say anything.
“Get it together, Blake.”
“Yes, sir.”
There’s no point explaining why it happened. He gets what it’s like out there from a lifetime playing the game, then coaching it from the sidelines.
Hockey is a fast-paced, high-intensity sport fueled by adrenaline and physicality. Emotions boil over faster than the puck hitting the ice when you have guys on both sides flying around with sharp blades strapped to our feet hunting down a hunk of rubber.
When I get back out there for my shift in the third period, I’m not fucking around anymore. The moment I have the opportunity, I get revenge against Donnelly with a merciless check that pins him to the boards.
“Fuck off, asshole!” He struggles, aiming to keep the puck from me, but I’ve got him where I want him.
The refs watch us like hawks. I need to make this quick and keep it clean.
“Listen to me carefully, because I’m only saying it once.” I jab my glove against his chest. “I would never lie about Maya. Family is supposed to protect each other and you failed at that when it counted. If you’re still friends with that dick, we’re gonna have a problem.”
“You need to start making sense, Blake.”
His brows furrow. I don’t have an ounce of patience left in me.
“Don’t give me that look. Johnny Werner. The asshole who cheated on Maya and made her feel like shit about it. If that wasn’t enough to make you want to kill him, a few months ago the psycho thought it was funny to break into her apartment as a joke.”
He freezes, forgetting about the puck. “What the fuck? He did what?”
“Come on, there’s no way you didn’t know something was off.”
“No,” he spits.
I grit my teeth to keep my temper in check. “It doesn’t matter. She has me now. I’m not going anywhere, so if you ever disrespect her the way you have by staying friends with shitheads like Werner, know that I will make you pay for it just as much as anyone else that’s hurt her.”
“Oh, shit.” He goes slack, gaping at me. “You’re in love with her.”
“Damn right I am.” While he’s distracted, I flick the puck away from him to the blur of blue and green on my left.
His expression darkens, searching the crowd. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
Finally, we’re on the same page.
“First, I’m beating your ass.”
Smirking, I rush off to assist Theo as he flies down the ice with the puck.
