Page 34 of No Rhyme or Roughing (The Golden Guardians Hockey Hearts #1)
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
RYDER
The arena buzzed with an energy I almost didn’t recognize, the noise filtering down the tunnel to the locker room.
“We have a full house out there, boys.” Coach Griffin stood in the center of the room, arms crossed, but even he couldn’t hide the surprise and excitement on his face. His lips twitched, and there was a new gleam in his eye. “Seems we have some social media stars in this room.”
Julian jostled me from the side. I ducked my head as the team erupted in cheers, yelling for Teddy and me to take a bow.
Teddy stood and, with an exaggerated flourish, dropped into a curtsy .
“Sit down, idiot.” Coach Frankie swatted him on the shoulder as she walked by.
For once in his life, Teddy didn’t argue. He plopped onto the bench and averted his gaze. Interesting. Was Teddy… embarrassed?
“You okay there?” I asked.
He mumbled something unintelligible.
“What was that?”
“I haven’t talked to Coach since I accidentally hit on her at Thanksgiving.”
“Accidentally.” I smirked, feeling lighter than I had in a long time, even if Sydney had been avoiding me all day.
“Don’t look so happy,” he groused. “It’s unnatural coming from you.” He stared at me for a long moment. “Wait… Did you meet someone?”
“How the fuck—” I shook my head.
“I know you, Ry. The last time you looked this at ease, I was gearing up to endure ten years of you obsessing over Sam.”
“I did not obsess.”
“Love, obsess—same thing.” He studied me. “You’re really not going to spill?”
I rested my elbows on my knees, leaning forward. “It’s…” I stopped, debating whether to say anything. Telling him who had me thinking about tonight after the game was a bad idea. A very bad idea. “I thought the Sam thing broke something in me. But now… I feel light.”
Teddy slung an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a side hug. “Hallelujah, Cap still has a heart.”
I shoved him off with a laugh and stood, addressing the room. Tonight was important. As captain, it was my job to take charge. Griff stepped aside without protest.
I turned in a slow circle, meeting the eyes of my teammates.
“We’ve been through a lot together,” I started, my gaze lingering on Jules and then Teddy.
“But we’ve got more to face. Our team is in danger.
Our team. ” I paused, letting the words settle.
“This team.” I pointed toward the door. “It’s packed out there for the first time in years.
Maybe they’re here because of a silly little video on social media, but that’s not why they’ll stay.
That’s not why they’ll turn into fans and come back for more.
“We love this game, right?”
A scattering of mumbled agreements filled the room.
“ Right? ”
The response came louder this time.
“Let’s help them fall in love with it too.”
As the team filtered out to start the game, Griff’s massive hand landed on my shoulder. “About damn time, son. You sounded like a captain.”
I shrugged him off, heading for the door to follow my teammates. “I am the damn captain.”
A dancing one, apparently.
I stepped onto the ice with Teddy and Jules for the opening face-off, squaring up against my opponent. The arena felt alive, charged with excitement, the energy seeping into my veins.
A smile curved my lips as I let it all soak in.
And then, the puck dropped.
At the first extended break, I lined up with nine of my teammates, and the roar of the arena was deafening. The crowd knew what was coming.
Glancing to the side, I spotted Sullivan holding Guardian, which was a little weird. The rest of our teammates sat on the bench, looking just as enthralled as our fans.
But I couldn’t find her.
Sydney wasn’t standing at the glass where I expected to see her. I scanned the stands, but it was impossible to pick anyone out in the packed arena.
The screams grew louder as a figure stepped onto the ice, a guitar slung over one shoulder and a microphone in hand.
Beside me, Teddy leaned in and said, “That was me. I got him here.”
Jameson Rhys skated toward center ice. Of course he could fucking skate. My stomach churned. Had Sydney called in a favor for her brother? She’d gotten in touch with her ex again?
Sure, this would send our video into the stratosphere, but all I could focus on was the burning in my chest.
Why had he come to perform at a minor league hockey game?
“Hello,” he growled into the microphone. Growled. What the heck?
What happened next left me no time to think. He started playing the song we’d practiced to, and I was a step behind matching my teammates. Chaos erupted around me—the screaming fans, the rock star on the ice, Shai skating the rink’s perimeter in her golden retriever costume .
I saw her take Guardian from Sullivan at the bench, and then it happened—the impossible.
The noise got even louder. Deafening.
That was when I saw her.
Sydney stepped onto the ice, camera in hand, focused on us. My movements turned automatic, robotic, as I watched her switch between filming us, the crowd, and Shai with Guardian.
But I only saw her.
I’d been looking for her all day, desperate to talk, to make sure she was okay after last night.
Her avoidance had been answer enough; she wasn’t.
As I danced, I tried to catch her eye, but she was stubborn, her focus unwavering. We might save the team tonight, but none of it mattered to me at that moment.
Not unless I got to kiss her again, to feel her soft skin against mine. Flashes of last night consumed my thoughts—Sydney pressed against the shower wall, her wet hair sticking to her face, her legs wrapped tightly around me.
I stumbled, my concentration shot. My arms pinwheeled, but it was useless. I hit the ice hard, right in front of Sydney and her camera.
She caught it all.
Before I could recover, Guardian leapt from Shai’s arms and landed awkwardly on the ice. His legs splayed out, and he slid straight into me.
Warmth. Wetness.
It hit my hand seconds before I realized what had happened. Guardian had peed on me. The yellow puddle quickly spread across the ice between my legs .
A laugh burst out of Sydney. “Um, we’ll cut that part.”
Guardian bolted toward the rest of the guys, who were still dancing, as I locked eyes with Sydney. When the music ended, she looked away.
I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but a raspy voice from behind interrupted.
“Syd, it’s damn good to see you.”
Jameson stepped over me, his guitar still slung across his back, and approached her. Without hesitation, he pressed a firm kiss to her lips. The same lips I’d tasted the night before.
I didn’t register anything else until Teddy gripped my arm, hauling me to my feet. “Come on, man. Let’s get you cleaned up. The game needs to resume.”
He shook his head, his gaze flicking to where Jameson and Sydney stood talking in low tones, their heads bent close together as they left the ice.
The face-off was at center ice. I played the rest of the period with pee soaked into my pads.
Freaking perfect.