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“It feels weird,” she murmured, her hair covering her face for a moment.
I inhaled as I got out of the car and made my way around to her side.
She sat in a daze, staring at her hands.
I unclipped her seat belt, drawing her out of the car, my arm casually draped around her waist as if I did this sort of thing every day.
You do, but not with someone like her.
And what made Willow so different? I’d had a girl a week with blond hair and a tight body if I wanted, and when I’d first started playing for Rippton, I had, for a very short period. Then the glamour had work off, and I’d concentrated on my game. Willow was different those girls. And some part of me wanted to show her that I was, too. But having her so close had its own sort of hellish effect on my body.
I pulled her a tiny bit closer, so her hip grazed the top of my thighs. She stared up at me with those ice blue eyes, her hair falling away from her face, her soft lips parted slightly.
Perfect.
“Come on.” I wrapped my hand around hers as she locked her car and tugged her after me into the door that led to the player’s area. Searching the faces around me, I waved half-heartedly until I found the one I sought. A swatch of dark hair stood a good head above everyone else, and I made a beeline to him.
“Jason,” I called out to the head of security for the college. “Dude. I need a favor. Get my girl a decent seat.” I returned his one armed hug awkwardly and exchanged my spot with Willow.
The big man looked down at her in surprise. “Sure, Lancaster. Come on, little lady. Let’s go.”
Willow gave me a wide-eyed look over her shoulder as security herded her away.
CHAPTER THREE
I waved, wiggling my fingers, and broke into a stunted jog as I wove my way through people who clapped my back and yelled both encouragement and obscenities at me as I passed.
Ignoring those, I headed into the locker room. Coach stood in the center, talking up his pre-game strategy. The boys stood around him in a circle, listening. One or two jiggled on the balls of his feet. Pregame nerves were rife, but the great majority stood still. Coach gave me his trademark glare as I scooted into the room and grabbed my gear.
“Thanks for joining us, Crush!” He barked as I started a fast warm up. “Nice to show your team the respect they deserve because you couldn’t haul your ass out of bed.” He sent me a sour look that said he would roast me after the game, but his ire could wait until we’d won.
“Sure there was something pretty in there keeping him company.” Gage Urchin, goalie for the Rippton Hails and my best friend in the world, piped up.
I shook my head at him in warning, not wanting the fire meant for me to fall on Willow’s shoulders when I’d had her seated behind Coach. He would have plenty of ammunition to roast several someones later, but it wouldn’t be any of us, once I’d told him what had happened. But that story couldn’t be told before we were done with the game.
I’d broken their focus, and we needed to get it back.
Gage lifted an eyebrow and leaned back against a locker, making a circular motion around his face aimed at my own that I was sure no one else missed.
“Urchin! Stand up straight! I won’t have you lounging about on the net like you’re in a damn nightclub.” Coach pushed a hand back through blond hair streaked with grey at his temples. Arnold ‘Icenator’ Chesterfield was the best coach in California, and the reason I’d applied to study at Rippton. The same reason that most of us had. “Littleton will be a shit show. Harder than last year for those who were playing with us. Defence. You’re up on this. Don’t sink us through inattention. Urchin, Calloway. You’ve got your jobs, do it and we won’t have to fight this a second time in the next round. Break their morale, makes them fear you. Stick with the plays to get past their defence. We’ve had two wins and two losses against them in the last two seasons. One of each both years. This year, we log two wins and break the streak. They have new players this year and we need to set a benchmark.”
“Bunch of fucking pussies,” Valen called from where he lounged against the lockers, his lip curled in a permanent arrogant sneer. His relaxed facade was anything but real, and he’d rip the ice apart for this win.
“They can’t take it like this!” Someone else yelled as I yanked my jersey over my head. I didn’t see who.
Coach didn’t look at me as I edged my way into the circle, my helmet in hand. My gear felt good after the panic, like donning familiar armor before a battle. The daggers Coach shot my way told me it might be more like a joust at the lists and I didn’t have a horse beneath me.
He was spot on with Littleton. Their team had a few change outs after graduation last year, but so had we. That altered the status quo significantly, and if we could drive the point home that we remained undefeated for the season to date, it would give us a solid position for the second half of the season.
“Got a pretty little kitten in your sheets, Crush?” Valen eyed me.
“Got my ass kidnapped and had to drag myself back halfway from Death fucking Valley after the gym. Duct tape and all.” I seethed, letting my anger at the insult out, inch by inch. I’d need that energy in a few minutes, and I was more than happy to take it out on the other team, but not mine. “Someone didn’t want me to play today.”
“Holy shit, Crush. Why didn’t you report it? How’d you get back?”
Why hadn’t I reported it? I might not have had my phone, but Willow would have had one that I could have used. I cursed myself internally for not having my head screwed on. My fall back was to shrug, blanking the emotion off my face.
“What’s to report? They’ll call it team or frat rivalry, and the Dean won’t be impressed with cops on the campus.”
