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He grins. “Mila gets it. She doesn’t want a team that lets themselves get pushed around.”
“Sounds like a green light to me.”
The chirping starts before the puck is even dropped. The fans are charged up, ready to see if our two teams are going to continue what we started in Minneapolis.
When my first shift on the ice starts, I’m immediately boarded by Kent Parsons, a beast of a defender. Damned if I’ll let my guests tonight see me treated that way in my own house.
I stay focused on the play, setting Rowan up for a slap shot that just misses the net. When we’re all heading back in the other direction down the ice, I drive my elbow into Kent’s side, my momentum pushing him into the boards.
His grunt as he hits is satisfying. It takes him a second to recover, but when he does, he comes straight for me.
“You finally decided to push back, Locke?” he taunts. “You’ve always been the easiest bitch in this league to push around.”
He’s known for hitting his target when he chirps at opponents. Kent knows everyone’s weaknesses, and he thrives on exploiting them. Calling me a pussy never fails to piss me off.
I know what Coach said. And I know how important winning this game is. But I won’t take Kent’s shit. Especially not with Tess watching.
I drop my gloves and the crowd roars its approval. Kent drops his, too, and we circle for a few seconds, the game coming to a stop.
I get in the first hit, but he follows it with two solid ones. Instead of being calculating, I just let my fists fly, not giving Kent a chance to answer. Usually, a fight between the two of us is either a draw or he wins, but not tonight.
Tonight, the crowd is roaring for me as a ref skates me over to the penalty box. From my seat inside, I can see Tess and her family in their box. One of the twins is waving wildly at me, and I raise a hand to wave back. He jumps up and down and I grin.
My parents and sister watch my games on TV, and if they’re in town, they watch them in person. But that feels different than this. Having Tess watching while wearing my number makes me want to play harder than I ever have.
Someone claps me on the back when I return to the bench, and Coach doesn’t say anything to me. And if he’s going to get mad at me, I’ll be in good company. Sergei pounds the guy who hit Beau in our last game, Dane Foster, doing something to one of his eyes that causes him to have to leave the game. Ford throws down his gloves to fight Dalton Lorenzo, Minnesota’s team captain.
We’re winning, though, so Coach lets the fights go. He had to know that was a losing cause anyway.
I get thrown into the boards more times than I can count. This is the most physical game any of us have played all season. We win 3–1 by the end of it, but we’re all sore and bleeding.
I’m sitting in an ice bath, my left eye swollen, when I get a text from Tess. I set down the ice pack I’m holding over my fat lip to read it.
Tess: We had the BEST time tonight. Thank you. The kids were so happy with the jerseys and pucks. The food was amazing. I wish we could stay and see you. Hope you aren’t hurting too bad to go on our date. *wink emoji*
I smile at the phone and text back.
Dom: I could lose a limp and I’d still pick you up on time. Wouldn’t miss our date for the world.
Tess: I just might have to sleep in this jersey tonight...
Dom: And nothing else, I hope.
Tess: Play your cards right and you’ll get to see me in it and nothing else very soon.
Oh fuck. If I wasn’t sitting in a tub of ice right now, I’d be hard. I consider making this chat dirtier, but I stop myself. One of the kids could see it.
Dominic Locke being appropriate because he’s concerned about corrupting children. I’ve changed overnight.
Dom: Good night, beautiful. Can’t wait to see you again.
Tess: Good night. I’m proud of you. *heart emoji*
Damn if I don’t feel like I just won the fucking cup. She’s proud of me. Nothing could possibly feel better.
Except waking up beside her after a long night in bed, but hopefully soon I’ll know what that feels like, too.
Chapter Sixteen
