Page 19
Luka
I try to block out the fact that Lily is in the stands, but it’s all I can think about right now. It was unexpected to see her next to my sister, but the visceral reaction I had when I heard Rowan ask her out after the game was nothing shy of shocking.
“Luka!” Rowan shouts as he sends the puck my way.
Shit! Concentrate!
The puck hits my twig, and I shoot off in the direction of the opponent’s net. My mind zeroes in on the goalie and instantly calculates what my best shot will be. This Wisconsin team is good, but not as good as us. We have three minutes left in the game, and we’re up by two goals.
We have this shit in the bag, but one more goal can’t hurt, right? I smirk and line up to take my shot as I see an opening. I pull my stick back to shoot, but a commotion to my right draws my attention. Sweat drips into my eyes, and my body is bound tight to take my shot, but I don’t.
An opposing player pulls his elbow back, aiming directly for Rowan’s face. Rowan jerks back to avoid the hit and pivots to the left. The movement brings him face to face with one of their defenders. That defender shoves Rowan in the chest, and he’s pushed back into yet another one of their players.
Where the fuck are our guys ? Rowan is being bounced around like a ping-pong ball. I’m still lined up to take my shot, and with the opposing defenders rounding on me, I don’t hesitate a second longer .
I pull back and send the puck flying. It sails right past the goalie into the net. The goal horn goes off, along with red lights spinning around the arena. I don’t wait around to celebrate, though, because it looks like Rowan needs some backup. These fuckers are just pissed they lost, and they have our team captain in their sights.
The same dumb shit that shoved Rowan tries to sock him in the face, but once again, my friend dodges it. Before I can get over there, Rowan throws his first punch, leaving the guy dazed but not down.
Then all hell breaks loose.
Both teams converge on the two players, and my heart leaps into my throat when I see Rowan go down.
“MOVE!” I roar as I push frantically through the players, trying to reach him. “FUCKING MOVE!” I roar again, my commands finally sinking in for some of the players.
They back away as I shove my way through the rest, who seem more concerned about beating each other into a bloody pulp than a man going down.
Grunts fill the space, along with a shit ton of cussing and the sound of knuckles hitting flesh. Gloves and hockey sticks litter the ground, and we have to step over them as we plow our way through. Blood speckles the ice from what I assume are broken noses and busted lips.
Being down on the ice when every skater in here is wearing sharp blades on their feet as they trample around is the worst place you can be. One wrong move, and your fucking throat can be sliced open.
There’s so much chaos that I don’t think anyone has realized Rowan went down. I only know because I was watching him at the exact moment it happened.
Panic sets in as my mind spins to worst-case scenarios. Nash is beside me in a second, and we push through the players together. The other players throw punches left and right, and we dodge a few as we make our way to the center, searching for Rowan.
One guy grabs me by the jersey and tries to pull me toward him, but I spin quickly and shove him so hard that his body collides with a player on our team. My teammate catches the opponent, and the fight between them begins .
“Fucker.”
Nash shoves several players out of the way as we make our way through the mass of pissed-off hockey players. We reach Rowan just as he rolls onto his side to push up from the ice. Each of us grabs an arm to help lift him.
Once he’s steady on his feet, I spin him around to assess for any injuries. I let out a massive sigh of relief when I only see one minor cut on his cheek.
“I’m fine. Nothing to worry over,” Rowan says nonchalantly. “Thanks for helping me up.” He pats Nash and me on the shoulders.
“You’re one lucky son of bitch, you know that?” I say in disbelief that he barely has a scratch on him. None of these fuckers paid a lick of attention that somebody was down on the ice.
Fighting is a given at practically any hockey game. It happens a lot, and there are very few rules. There is one, however, that’s pretty damn important and just common fucking courtesy.
When a fellow player falls, the fighting stops.
Pretty damn simple. Apparently, not for these jokers.
“How do you do that? How do you basically get trampled by a bunch of dudes on razor-sharp hockey skates and not have a scratch on you?’ Nash asks in amazement.
“It’s Rowan’s superpower. Dude has the best damn luck of anyone I know,” I say.
“That’s for damn sure.” Nash chuckles.
“Hey, what can I say? I’m just cool like that.” Rowan spreads his arms wide with a smirk on his face.
I chuckle at how damn easygoing he is. The dude could’ve seriously gotten hurt, and he makes light of it. It’s one of the reasons why everyone loves him.
We start to move further away from the fight when a random guy grabs Nash and punches him square in the jaw.
“You fucking shit!” I yell as I lunge.
I grab him by the back of his jersey and yank him back. Rowan is there to land a punch to his gut as I send a right hook directly to his left ear .
Nash lands a punch to the guy’s jaw, and then there’s no stopping any of it. I lose track of how many punches I throw and how many guys I hit. The crowd goes wild, and the refs blow their whistles, but nobody stops. It’s a free-for-all, and neither team is willing to back down.
I don’t know how long the fight lasts, but when the coaches come on the ice and start pulling players away one by one, the fight finally starts to diminish. This is probably one of the worst fights on the ice that I’ve ever been part of.
The other team is a major rival of ours and obviously didn’t take the loss very well. Fighting comes with the territory, but it’s usually between two opposing players and happens during the game. It’s rare to have entire teams involved and even rarer for it to happen after the game has ended.
Coach is going to be pissed .
“Get your asses OFF this ice and into the locker room!” Coach Cunningham’s voice booms over the crowd as the players still scuffle on the ice.
Yup. He’s pissed.
I finally look up to the stands, my eyes searching for the one person I shouldn’t look for but can’t seem to stop myself from looking for.
I find her, and when our eyes connect, the same intense heat I felt when I first saw her here in the hockey rink fills my chest. Something clicks into place , and I realize I like the idea of her being in the stands at my hockey games entirely too much. The idea that she came just for me made the thumping in my chest go wild, but when I saw her attention divert to Rowan, something snapped.
I didn’t like it, and his threat from before about asking her out has been playing on repeat in my head. I sure as shit don’t like the idea of them going out after the game.
“You weren’t serious, were you?” I ask Rowan as we make our way to the bench to grab our gear. We need to move our asses because Coach is pissed and will be even more pissed if he has to wait to chew our asses out.
“Serious about what?” Rowan asks.
My eyes are still trained on where Lily and Stella were just sitting, but they’re gone now. Stella doesn’t like to linger after games, preferring to beat the crowd out, but I assume they stayed longer than usual tonight with the fight breaking out.
Rowan glances to where I looked just seconds ago, and a sly smile graces his face. This fucker. He knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“What’s wrong? You said you weren’t interested. Thought I could take her out and see if there’s anything there.” Rowan practically sings the last part, and it grates on my nerves.
I know he’s doing this to bait a reaction out of me, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t working. I suddenly stop on the ice and grab his arm to stop him. All rational thought has left the building.
“I don’t like it,” I say sternly, hoping he gets the message without me having to spell it out.
Our teammates pass us on their way to the player’s bench to grab their shit before hitting the locker room. Some say good game, patting us on the shoulders as they pass.
“You don’t like what?”
I growl because he’s intentionally acting like a dumbass to get under my skin. “You fucking know what. She’s off limits .”
Rowan has the audacity to laugh in my face. “You only get to call off limits when you’re actually interested in a girl or when it’s your sister. If you’re not interested and making everyone back off, you’re just stopping her from finding happiness and pulling the ‘if I can’t have her, no one can’ bullshit.”
I growl again. It seems to be the only damn noise I can manage without cussing him out.
He raises an eyebrow. “You very clearly said you weren’t interested. I don’t see a problem here. She’s cute, smart, and funny. Hell, she could be the one, you know?” He says it so nonchalantly that my hackles raise. How dare he say she could be the one so flippantly?
She deserves someone who would move Heaven and Earth for her. Someone who would scream from every roof top to prove to her how much he loves her. Someone who would cherish, protect, and support her and all her dreams, wishes, and aspirations .
That someone should be me .
The thought startles me, leaving me stunned to silence.
Rowan stands and watches, waiting for me to say something, but I’m too busy having an existential crisis to argue with him about taking her out tonight.
“If you don’t like it, do something about it, Russo.” That’s all the fucker says as he slaps me on the back, grabs his bag, and then heads straight to the locker room.
If I don’t move my ass, Coach will chew it off even more. I force my feet to move as I grab my shit and make my way into the locker room, all the while thinking about Rowan’s challenge.
And I could make good on it except for the fact that Lily McKenna seems to hate my guts now.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19 (Reading here)
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46