Page 49 of Hat Trick (Titans Hockey #1)

Chapter forty-three

Gabe

I throw my helmet into my cubby and watch as the bright colors bounce off the bench and roll away onto the floor. It's our third loss in as many games. If we lose one more, we're done for.

I'd like to blame some pre-game ritual we fucked with, or mercury being in retrograde, but the fact of the matter is there's a discord in the team. We're missing easy passes, easy shots on goal, I'm missing easy blocks, and we're falling on the ice like it's our first fucking season.

And I know exactly who is to blame.

Us.

Luca, Carter and I. We're in a funk and it's effecting every other player on the team. We know it. They know it. But they're smart enough not to say a damn thing.

Things haven't been the same since we (Emily) decided we needed some distance.

I know why she did it, so that we could concentrate on the game, but it's having the opposite effect.

When she said distance, I didn't realize she meant physically.

Every attempt I've made to hold her or kiss her she's avoided and sidestepped.

She hasn't left the house in over a week.

She's shy around us again. Reserved. Nervous. She avoids us as much as possible and it's unsettling. It's like she's a completely different person and I have no idea what to do.

Do I push her into accepting us again? Do I give her space? Do I woo her all over again? Or be patient and let her come to me ?

Even Luca and Carter are acting different. They both mope around the house like lost puppies. Their sad eyes follow her wherever she is, and on more than one occasion I've found Luca just loitering by her closed bedroom door, anxious for any scraps of her attention.

Three losses should be enough of a message, right? Distance clearly isn't working, but would going back how we were fix everything? She can't be the glue that holds us together.

I collapse on the bench and press the palms of my hands into my eyes. The pain gives me something to focus on.

Coach comes in and reams us out. It's nothing I haven't heard before, and I 'yes coach' at the appropriate times.

He's not saying anything I don't already know.

We're pieces of shit. We played like amateurs; we clearly don't want the Stanley if that's how we play today.

I love coach's tough love most of the time.

He doesn't baby us or pussy foot around even though we're professional athletes.

He treats us like we're still in High School and I like that.

But nothing he's saying right now is going to fix this. Fix us.

I listen vaguely as we're dismissed and the team shuffles around in awkward silence, doing our post-game showers and rituals.

I'm aware of Carter and Luca sitting on either side of me, also lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly someone steps in front of me and I open my eyes to see a pair of brown leather shoes standing between my skates.

I look up to see Jonesy. I suppress an eye roll. I never liked this guy. Too cocky for his own good.

"Look. I don't know if your hot nanny's not putting out any more or what the fuck is going on, but you three need to get your shit together."

"Jonesy." Carter growls a warning .

"No, man. You three are fucking up and you know it. If you need to get laid, get laid. You're not going to let some pussy get between this team and the Stanley."

I'm on my feet in a flash, swinging at Jonesy's stupid head.

He wasn't expecting me, so I land a solid punch to his chin, causing him to stumble back and slip on his dress shoes, hitting his ass.

Carter and Luca are on me before I can throw the next punch, pulling me back.

I wrestle with them. One punch isn't enough to shut his stupid fucking mouth.

The thing I hate the most, is that he's not wrong.

We're professional fucking hockey players who have let our personal lives affect our professional ones.

But he doesn't get to call Emily 'some pussy' though.

And he doesn't get to insinuate that if we're not with her we should get with someone else.

Or force her to sleep with us just for the Stanley.

Jonesy stands, wipes the blood from his mouth, and walks away, cursing under his breath. Luca, Carter and I finally shed our gear like robots and hit the showers silently.

Getting dressed we share looks. We're all a little lost and I fucking hate it. I'm the protector. Carter's the leader. Luca's our offense. And not a single one of us knows the answer.