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The player who winked at her earlier skates up to me as we line back up and says, “I bet she has the sweetest ass on her.”
Gripping my stick tighter, I resist knocking him on his ass on a dead puck.
“Keep fucking chirping, and I’ll knock your teeth in,” I growl at him.
“She would be on her knees, begging me for it, if I wanted. She looks easy enough.” He grins, and all I can see is red.
The puck drops, and he gains possession. We all fly down the ice. They miss a shot, and it rebounds off of the goalpost toward the boards. His teammate grabs it and shoots. MacArthur blocks it, and it rebounds off of him and glides toward the benches.
Number eighty-four—the guy begging to get his teeth knocked in—takes off after it, and I’m right on his tail. Digging my blades harder into the ice, I gain as much momentum and speed as I can. He’s not a foot from the boards in front of Nikki before I put every ounce of rage into smearing him into the glass. The sound from him hitting the wall is deafening in the rink. But the audience’s shouts and cheers immediately take over.
With his face still against the wall, I grit my teeth. “Say one more thing about her, and you won’t be walking out of this arena.”
He falls to the ground as I pull away.
“Now, who’s on their knees?”
I spit on the ice next to him and look up to Nikki. Her face is a mix of confusion, fear, and adoration. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, and it’s driving me crazy.
My team flocks to my side, ready if a fight breaks out. I know I have a target on my back for that hit now. But I also know that Reed and Jensen will be with me. And they aren’t letting any of the Patriots get away with anything. Luckily, the Patriots didn’t try to get me back for that throughout the rest of the third period.
The game ends—Nighthawks one, Patriots zero. The next time we play them, a bloodbath is going to happen since it didn’t tonight. Their team is going to get me back for the hit I put on eighty-four—or at least try until it’s an all-out brawl. I know that’s what we would do for our boys. But I guess that usually depends on how the other team would handle it at the next game.
As we skate off the ice, I look over to Nikki, who is already staring at me with the biggest smile on her face. I wink at her and grin.
We play again tomorrow, and I need her here. I play better with her. I am better with her. I hustle to my phone and shoot her a text.
Me: Please don’t leave yet. I’m going to hop in the shower quickly. I’ll be right out.
She responds instantly.
Nikki: I’ll wait for you in the lobby.
“So, you want to talk about the girl you wouldn’t stop looking at throughout the game?” Kos asks as I strip out of my gear.
Smirking, I walk over to the showers. “Hopefully, you’ll meet her tonight. We can talk about her then.”
“Do I know her? She looks familiar,” Kos asks.
“She owns that coffee shop in Minnesota,” I say as I start the shower and step into the warm water.
“So, that’s where you disappeared to on your last off days.” Kos shouts to Brett who’s on the toilet, “Dammit, Brett, I owe you a hundred bucks.”
“Woohoo!” Brett cheers.
“You guys had a bet going?” I laugh. “Fucking stupid.”
The guys continue to give me shit as I wash my hair and change into gray joggers and a Nighthawks T-shirt and hoodie before rushing out to find Nikki.
Me: On my way to you.
When I walk through the exit door of our locker room, I see Chloe and Nikki standing with their backs to me. I want to scare them, but then I remember how Nikki reacted when I snuck up on her at the library. I never want to make her feel that genuinely fearful of me again.
“Hello, beautiful,” I say to her as I approach them.
“Oh, hey, Cam,” Chloe says, taking the compliment for herself.
Nikki laughs as she turns around and takes me in. “Hey.”
