Page 69
Story: The Pucking Wrong Rookie
His lips quirked into a grin, and my heart flipped.
Olivia raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Right. Not obsessed at all.”
I sank lower in my seat, my cheeks burning as I stared down at the ice, wondering if she wasn’t that far off.
* * *
LOGAN
That feeling was back, the one I was used to, where everything felt right when I was out on the ice.
I knewwhyit was back. It was because of Sloane, because she was where she belonged.
Watching me instead of Tyler Fucking Miller.
Sloane’s presence had me feeling so good…I didn’t even care that my father was somewhere in the stands, pretending to watch while critiquing my every move like he knew as much about hockey as he did playing football.
“A new addition to the ‘Ladies of the Circle,’ ehh?” Camden asked as he stole my puck and brought my head back to warm-ups.
“Ladies of the Circle? When did we approve that?” asked Ari.
“I’ve got some ideas!” said Walker eagerly.
“Of course you do, simp,” snarked Ari.
Walker huffed as he easily stopped a puck that Dex, one of our teammates, had shot.
“Well, we’re listening, Disney,” drawled Lincoln right before he smacked the puck and sent it sliding past Walker and into the back of the net.
Walker grimaced. It was a good thing that Lincoln was on our team, because Walker could rarely stop his shots. “Ladies of the Locker Room, the Sin Bin Sweethearts, the StanleyCupcakes,” Walker recited. “I also have the Stick Whisperers or the Hat Trick Honeys…”
“Ooh, what about the Trustettes?” offered Camden, obviously eager to redeem himself after the whole “Ladies of the Circle” debacle.
“None of these are deserving of Blake ‘Honey Bunny’ Lancaster,” Ari griped as we skated back toward the bench to get chewed out one more time by Coach. “You all need to do better.”
Lincoln barked out a laugh, and Ari grinned at him over his shoulder. “Liked that one, didn’t you, Golden Boy?”
“Was he laughing with you…or at you? Thatisthe question of the day,” said Camden as my attention drifted over to where Sloane was talking to the girls. She had a faint blush to her cheeks and looked happier than I had seen her. The Hat Trick Honeys…already working their magic.
Nope, not a good one. I’d have to think of some better ones to offer—especially since Sloane was one of them now. Only the best for my girl.
The game started, and it was immediately balls to the wall. We were down by one in the series, and everything felt like it was on the line tonight. I could feel it in my bones, that tight coil of adrenaline ready to snap at any moment.
“Hey, ref, is it a penalty to breathe now?” Ari asked as the whistle blew, and Camden was sent to the penalty box for high-sticking halfway through the first period.
The ref in question, definitely a Tampa Bay sympathist based on his calls, blew the whistle in Ari’s face as I skated into the face-off circle.
My eyes were locked on number seventy-five as he lined up across from me. My stick tapped the ice twice, my knees bending a little deeper.
“You look nervous,” I said.
“Shut up, York,” he shot back, tightening his grip on his stick.
The ref raised his arm…and the puck dropped.
I reacted before he could, my stick snapping down with a cleancrackas I swept the puck back toward Ari. My body surged forward as I drove off my skates, leaving the guy cursing and scrambling behind me.
Ari had the puck now, snapping it over to Lincoln, who charged up the boards. I kept my speed, weaving into position, my heart pounding in sync with the roar of the crowd.
Olivia raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Right. Not obsessed at all.”
I sank lower in my seat, my cheeks burning as I stared down at the ice, wondering if she wasn’t that far off.
* * *
LOGAN
That feeling was back, the one I was used to, where everything felt right when I was out on the ice.
I knewwhyit was back. It was because of Sloane, because she was where she belonged.
Watching me instead of Tyler Fucking Miller.
Sloane’s presence had me feeling so good…I didn’t even care that my father was somewhere in the stands, pretending to watch while critiquing my every move like he knew as much about hockey as he did playing football.
“A new addition to the ‘Ladies of the Circle,’ ehh?” Camden asked as he stole my puck and brought my head back to warm-ups.
“Ladies of the Circle? When did we approve that?” asked Ari.
“I’ve got some ideas!” said Walker eagerly.
“Of course you do, simp,” snarked Ari.
Walker huffed as he easily stopped a puck that Dex, one of our teammates, had shot.
“Well, we’re listening, Disney,” drawled Lincoln right before he smacked the puck and sent it sliding past Walker and into the back of the net.
Walker grimaced. It was a good thing that Lincoln was on our team, because Walker could rarely stop his shots. “Ladies of the Locker Room, the Sin Bin Sweethearts, the StanleyCupcakes,” Walker recited. “I also have the Stick Whisperers or the Hat Trick Honeys…”
“Ooh, what about the Trustettes?” offered Camden, obviously eager to redeem himself after the whole “Ladies of the Circle” debacle.
“None of these are deserving of Blake ‘Honey Bunny’ Lancaster,” Ari griped as we skated back toward the bench to get chewed out one more time by Coach. “You all need to do better.”
Lincoln barked out a laugh, and Ari grinned at him over his shoulder. “Liked that one, didn’t you, Golden Boy?”
“Was he laughing with you…or at you? Thatisthe question of the day,” said Camden as my attention drifted over to where Sloane was talking to the girls. She had a faint blush to her cheeks and looked happier than I had seen her. The Hat Trick Honeys…already working their magic.
Nope, not a good one. I’d have to think of some better ones to offer—especially since Sloane was one of them now. Only the best for my girl.
The game started, and it was immediately balls to the wall. We were down by one in the series, and everything felt like it was on the line tonight. I could feel it in my bones, that tight coil of adrenaline ready to snap at any moment.
“Hey, ref, is it a penalty to breathe now?” Ari asked as the whistle blew, and Camden was sent to the penalty box for high-sticking halfway through the first period.
The ref in question, definitely a Tampa Bay sympathist based on his calls, blew the whistle in Ari’s face as I skated into the face-off circle.
My eyes were locked on number seventy-five as he lined up across from me. My stick tapped the ice twice, my knees bending a little deeper.
“You look nervous,” I said.
“Shut up, York,” he shot back, tightening his grip on his stick.
The ref raised his arm…and the puck dropped.
I reacted before he could, my stick snapping down with a cleancrackas I swept the puck back toward Ari. My body surged forward as I drove off my skates, leaving the guy cursing and scrambling behind me.
Ari had the puck now, snapping it over to Lincoln, who charged up the boards. I kept my speed, weaving into position, my heart pounding in sync with the roar of the crowd.
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