Or a whole fucking team of them.
Here’s the thing. We’re playing against our biggest rival tonight. You know, the Wolves—aka the slimy sons of bitches who keep eyeingmychampionship.
Some would argue—somebeing our captain, Kane—that it’sourchampionship. The Vipers’, to be exact. Since I’m just one of twenty-six players on the team. But hear me out. They wouldn’t get anywhere without me, so technically speaking, it’smychampionship, bitches.
Back to the topic at hand, or the actual Wolves’ shitty arena we’re playing at tonight.
Light floods the ice as our guys skate into position. That pregame buzz hits early, a hum of adrenaline sliding under my skin and making me extra fucking hyper. Can’t wait to crush some egos tonight and send them home crying.
The place is packed full of people who came to watch my highness humble some peasants.
Okay, fine, they might have come to watch Kane and Jude. Especially Jude. He gets so much attention without even trying, and it makes me salty with extra sodium at times, but hey, he gets a pass for being my best bro.
Said big man—yup, that’s Jude, the resident hulk of the Vipers—skates beside me on the rink amid the crowd’s deafening cheers.
For the Wolves, not us, since it’s an away game, but I take a dramatic bow to our side of the audience anyway.
“Smile, Callahan,” I tell Jude, wearing my charming smile, complete with the most gorgeous dimples—not my description; it belongs to one of the beautiful ladies I fuck on the regular. But since she said it about me, I have the right to plagiarize.
Jude stops beside me, running a quick gaze over me as if assessing something.
What, I don’t know.
Actually, I do, but let’s pretend I don’t. Works like a fucking charm every time.
Jude’s a few inches taller than me and much broader, almost like he’s on a mission to tower over the world. He pulls on his gloves, still doing that not-so-discreet watching he’s obsessed with. “Focus, Pres.”
“I am focused—on doing public service.”
“Don’t be too antagonistic tonight.”
I search around, then place a hand on my heart. “Antagonistic?Moi?”
“He’s right, Pres.” Kane skates to Jude’s side.
The captain of being a pain in the ass, ladies and gents.
Fine, okay. He’s not bad. Just a nagging little bitch sometimes—actually, most of the time.
Kane’s build is somewhere between Jude’s wrestler-like muscles and my lithe, perfect physique. He also has seriously creepy light-blue eyes that look especially muted now, almost reflecting the ice.
“The Wolves’ defense is aggressive,” he says, giving me a solemn look that fits a grandpa. “You goading them will only end badly for you. Play clean.”
“Nah, don’t worry. They’ll all fall into my trap.” I whistle, motioning toward their side. “Will be sending those peasants to the box one at a time.”
“Just tone it down,” he says.
“So, I won’t be doing that.”
“Pres…”
“ButI’ll turn them into minced lasagna.”
Jude sighs. “It’s ‘make mincemeat out of them.’”
“I meant my version. Sounds tastier.”
Kane shakes his head at me, then skates away. Jude pats my shoulder as he follows. “I got your back.”
