I see Bridget every second my schedule will allow, and we text constantly. I am a man obsessed.
We have a home game tonight. After our morning skate, I went directly to her house and we haven’t left her bed since. My phone alarm goes off for the third time and I shut it off with a groan.
“I don’t wanna go,” I tell her as I drape an arm around her middle.
She wiggles out of my hold and stands next to the bed. “Oh no. I’m not going to be the reason you’re late. The whole city will hate me if you get benched or something.”
I sit up reluctantly. She’s not wrong. Coach will not be happy if I’m late.
“Plans later?” I ask as Bridget pulls a T-shirt over her head.
“No. I don’t think so. Why?” She gives me a playful smile as I gawk at her half-naked body. “Want to hang out?”
“Actually, I was also hoping you’d come to watch me play.”
She pauses, sliding her panties up over her toned legs. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. Heat flickers in her eyes as her gaze drops to my dick.
Whatever this is might be casual, but she can’t get enough of me and the feeling is mutual. Casually obsessed.
“You know why. Gabe—”
“Doesn’t own the arena.” I really hate that prick and hate even more that Bridget still feels like she needs to walk on eggshells to keep him happy. “I get that you don’t want to see him, and you don’t want him to know about us, but it isn’t like we’re going to be fucking on center ice.” Though that sounds interesting. I step to her and rub my hands up and down over her arms. “Ev and Grace are going, right?”
“Just Everly. Grace is going out with Lane tonight.”
“It’s highly unlikely you’d run into Gabe. He’ll be in the press box, and I can get you seats all the way across the arena. If by some chance he randomly spots you—because let’s be honest, you do stand out, babe. You’ll easily be the hottest woman there. Then stick with Everly. She’d love to give him a piece of her mind.”
“I want to come, I do. You in your little hockey getup is seriously hot.” She does another slow appraisal of me. “But I just can’t. I’m sorry.”
It shouldn’t disappoint me. I’ve never cared that much about my family or girlfriends being there. Sure, it’s fun to have them in the stands, but we play more than eighty games a year. Even some of the wives don’t make it to every single home game.
Still, that feeling stirring in my chest is achingly close to disappointment. I try not to think too hard on why I want Bridget there so badly. Especially knowing that it puts her in such close proximity to the douchebag ex. My selfishness shouldn’t trump her comfort.
“Nah, I get it,” I say. “We’re just coming up on another long road trip and I was hoping to spend some more time with you first.”
“Sitting in the same arena is hardly spending time together.” She drops her arms over my shoulders and laces her fingers together behind my head.
“I’ll take you as close as I can get you.” I brush my lips over hers.
We get lost in kisses and soon we’re back in bed and naked. I’m disturbingly good at pushing away all thoughts and worries when her legs are wrapped around me and I’m buried inside her.
Eventually we do have to get dressed and leave the house though—real bummer. I head home for my usual meal and power nap before the game.
Hours later when I get to the arena, I go straight to the locker room. Slipping into my routine has helped me forget about my disappointment but when I see Gabe, those feelings are back and tinged with anger.
He’s standing in front of one of the stalls talking to Lewis as the latter removes a name plate and tosses it to the ground, then places a new one in its spot.
I drop my bag on the bench in front of my locker. Leo looks up, then turns his gaze to where they’re readying the new spot.
“Traded,” he says quietly. “We got Nick Galaxy from Chicago, which should help with scoring.”
I nod and swallow the lump in my throat. More guys have come and gone in the three years I’ve been with the Wildcats than I can count. We’re all professionals and most of us know what it’s like to be the new guy so we don’t spend a lot of time mourning the guy that left because we’re too busy figuring out how to adjust to the change. Our job is to win despite everything else. I never resented it so much until now.
Lewis finishes changing out the stall and picks up the discarded pieces on his way out. Just like that it’s done. Gabe is all smiles as he talks with Nick.
“Galaxy played on the junior team Gabe worked for before he was drafted to Chicago.”
It’s a reminder of Gabe’s influence over who comes and goes on this team. A pit forms in my stomach as I watch the new guy and Gabe’s easy camaraderie. Eventually Gabe shakes his hand and leaves Nick to settle in.
Leo doesn’t waste any time. He stands and walks over to Nick. If I know my buddy, he’s welcoming him to the team and shooting the shit, trying to ease the nerves and bring him into the fold quickly.
I’ll do the same. He’s a good player and a huge get for us if he can come in and help put pucks in the net.
Gabe’s steps slow as he approaches me.
“Kelly,” he says, shoving one hand into his tailored pants pocket. “How’s it going?”
“Fantastic.” My voice drips with sarcasm. I don’t bother asking how he is. Don’t give a flying fuck. “What can I help you with?”
“Just checking in and making sure everything is all right with you.” His attempt at genuine concern is almost believable if it weren’t for the words that follow. “Your stats are down from this time last season.”
Of-fucking-course they are. I missed four weeks because of my shoulder.
“Only one goal in the last four games.” He cocks his head to the side. “Jim thinks you can turn it around, but I’m not so sure. Maybe what you need is a change of scenery. Dallas is nice this time of year.”
I keep my mouth clamped shut, knowing there’s nothing I can say. Guys like him feed on control and feeling like they have the upper hand. I refuse to give it to him. Maybe I should talk to Jim though. If he has concerns, I want to address them. But even doing that feels like giving in to whatever twisted power trip Gabe is on. My jaw tightens. I’m going to crack a molar if I don’t get away from this guy.
“How’s Bridget doing?” he asks.
“Probably great now that she’s away from you,” I say with a smile. If anyone saw me talking to him or overheard, they’d think I was joking.
The flicker of anger that crosses his face is smoothed out quickly.
“Hey.” Jack walks up, glancing between us and reading the tense situation. Neither Gabe nor I look at him. “Need something, Gabe?”
“Just making sure everyone’s all set for tonight.”
“Appreciate it,” Jack says. “But we’ve got it from here.”
It’s a dismissal that’s polite enough that Gabe obeys but icy enough that I know my captain has my back.
As soon as he’s gone, Jack looks to me. “What was that about?”
“My shitty season stats and a thinly-veiled threat of being traded.”
He curses under his breath. “You can’t let him get under your skin. Especially right before a game.”
“I know,” I say, feeling the annoyance thrum through my blood. Fuck. He’s right. “I know.”
Nick jumps right in like he’s been with the team all season. Coach mixes up the lines to put him with Leo and Jack and our first line gets most of our shots on goal. They don’t score, but they’re getting looks. The other change is that I’m moved to center on the second line with Maverick and Tyler. I’ve played center before, but it isn’t where I’m most comfortable. I try to push Gabe’s words out of my head but at the end of the second period, I’ve not contributed a damn thing.
In the locker room, I take off my jersey and fling it down hard at the ground in front of my stall. I keep my pads on but take off my skates. We have just a few minutes to rest and cool down before we head back out.
Usually, the coaches don’t come in during intermission until they’ve met to discuss the period, but I’m not that surprised when Coach Miller follows the last guy in.
He stands in the middle of our quiet locker room, hands on his hips.
“That sucked,” he says quietly.
“No shit,” someone murmurs.
Coach Miller lets his arms drop to his sides and he scans the room. I glance down when he holds my gaze too long.
“You’re too talented of a team to be struggling this much. Get out of your heads. Tonight is one of those nights that shots don’t want to go in. That doesn’t mean to back off. The first line looked good. Keep putting it on net and something will get by. Nick, nice job coming in. Leo and Jack, good job communicating. Second line…”
When I look back up, Coach turns his gaze at me again. “Keep at it. We may switch some things up again to see if we can find a better fit than having Ash at center, but I like the three of you together. You’re fast and finding each other out there. Let’s see if we can make something happen. Everyone, give Mikey some help. It’s not over yet.”
Coach claps his hands once in front of him, then turns on his heel to leave. When he’s gone, the chatter of my teammates begins. Leo leans over. “You good?”
I cock my head to the side to look at him. “Is your eyesight failing? Fuck no, I’m not good. That was fucking terrible. I’ve only taken one shot all night, and it missed the net by a mile. Goalie didn’t even flinch.”
I chug down some Gatorade and lean back. I close my eyes and take a few breaths, trying to find some calm. Visions of Bridget flash through my mind. Her smile, her laugh, the way she looks at me when I bring her to orgasm, that goddamn hair. As quickly as they float through, I push them away, but they do the trick, and I feel a little more ready to get back out there and figure out how the fuck to help my team and keep myself from being traded.
