I could recognize the pattern already by now. Aleksey liked to drag me in, let the adrenaline take over, and the second the intimacy got real, he’d bolt.
An urge to push flared up, to force a conversation and make him turn around and acknowledge exactly what we’d just done.
However, I killed it. My mouth stayed shut. Pressing him now would only make him defensive.
I climbed back over the console and dropped into the driver’s seat, then hit the gas.
Meanwhile, Aleksey kept his eyes locked on the dark trees whipping past the passenger window, and I just focused on the road.
Chapter 10 - Aleksey
The arena above us roared, but the only thing cutting through was Coach Corby’s voice. He blocked my path in the tunnel, chewing the inside of his cheek. My muscles were still coiled tight from the back of the van last night. Every time the memory surfaced, a cold dread settled low in my stomach. I shoved it down.
Corby cleared his throat. “Kid, you were a millimeter away from watching this final from the stands.”
I kept my face blank. “I know.”
“Scouts saw the tape from yesterday. They saw you lose your head out there. Even the tournament director wanted you suspended.” He crossed his arms. “I had to go to bat for you. Told them it was a clean fight. Told them you’re a passionate player who simply needs to rein it in. I’m sticking my neck out.”
A slow nod was all I gave him.
“But if you do that shit on my ice again, you don’t simply get benched. You’re just done,” he said, sighing. “I can’t salvage your draft chances if you aren’t playing.”
A cold knot formed in my gut. Hockey was my only ticket out. Going back home to my mother with nothing was not an option.
Coach dropped his hands and patted my shoulder. “The only reason I tolerate your attitude is the fact that you’re a good player. Officially, I’m angry at you.” He stepped back. “Unofficially... I’m glad this team has you looking out for them. Taking out dirty players means they’ll think twice next time.”
“Understood, Coach.”
He thought I was just looking out for the guys. I nodded and kept my mouth shut. My mind flashed to the previous game, to Karter hitting the boards. The violence that followed had been automatic. I didn’t beat that guy up for the team.
I did it because of Karter.
Stepping out of the tunnel and onto the ice felt like waking up. The cold air hit my lungs. I skated to my position and let the noise of the crowd fade out. Karter was on my shift. I tracked his jersey by pure instinct. He skated with a fluid, easy speed.
Every time an opposing defenseman got too close to him, my grip tightened on my stick. I could not put my hands on Karter out here. I could not shove him against a wall like I did in the van. So I took my frustrations out on the other team.
I turned the game ugly. I hit people strictly to feel the impact in my own bones. Every time I drove a guy into the glass, it was an excuse to burn off the desperate energy I had bottled up since last night. And while I stayed just shy of a penalty, I made sure the other team felt every single hit.
When the final buzzer sounded, the scoreboard flashed our win. The arena erupted. Guys spilled over the boards to celebrate. I grabbed Perez and joined the pile, searching the crowd of helmets until I spotted Karter. By the time we dragged ourselves off the ice and headed for the back, my body was exhausted.
Noise bounced off the concrete walls as my teammates celebrated the tournament win all around me. I dropped onto the bench and tried to clear my head. Yet it was impossible when Karter was sitting just a few stalls away.
He kept worrying his lower lip with his teeth as he worked the laces of his skates loose. Eventually, I had to look away before I stared too long, pulling the sweaty tape off my hands just to keep them busy.
Perez stepped up to me, already bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Man, what a game, eh? You were a terror out there.”
“I did my job.”
“Your job.” Perez snorted. He chewed his gum twice, fast, then pointed at my shoulder with his chin. “That hit on their center in the second period was a felony. Pretty sure he’s still picking himself up.”
“He was in my lane.”
“You weren’t even on his side of the rink, bro. You skated across two lines just to lay him out.”
“Somebody had to.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been...” Perez tapped his chin. “What’s the word? Extra. You’ve been extra all weekend. Like someone pissed in your cereal right before every shift.”
