Page 81 of Body Checked & Pucked

I sit there, seething.

I’m grinding my teeth so hard, they’re going to crack soon.

I can’t take the feeling burning up inside me.

Does it have anything to do with hockey?

Absolutely-fucking-not.

It has everything to do with Mila.

I can’t stop thinking about her not wanting to see me.

I know for sure she’s forcing herself to stick it out with Ward now just to prove a point to herself.

And that pisses me off.

Talk about wasted time. Wasted fun.

We could be naked in my bed, rolling around, finding new positions.

I could show her what real pleasure looks like.

But nope.

She’s with Ward.

And I’m sitting in the goddamn sin bin for another thirty seconds.

I lift my eyes and watch the clock tick down to zero.

Then I’m back on the ice and I go right for Jordan again.

This time he turns and throws his gloves down.

“You want to take a cheap shot at me?” Jordan asks. “I’m right here now, asshole.”

I throw my gloves down, then break hockey etiquette and just attack.

I am not in the mood for anything right now.

Including an actual hockey fight.

No way I’m going punch for punch.

I just pounce on Jordan.

I tear at his jersey like it’s on fire.

The refs blow their whistles.

Jordan is swinging at air.

Villi skates over to me and all but bearhugs me and gets me out of the way.

This time I’m sent off the ice for the major penalty.

I get to spend the rest of the second period alone in the locker room.

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