He digs his skates into the ice and glares at me from across the line.
“You thought I wasn’t going to say anything?” A hot burst ofanger rips through my chest. “You fucking broke her heart, you piece of shit. You never deserved Sloane.”
“Just giving you an opportunity for seconds.”
I’m about to skate over that line, damn the consequences, before Bosko hooks an arm around my chest and yanks me back. “Now, boys, we’re going to behave, and we’re going to play a good, clean hockey game tonight.”
Right. Sure we are.
No promises if he keeps opening his mouth though.
I spin, skating to the other side of the rink and shaking off the hit. Then I catch sight of Sloane and Annie walking to their seats, my brother Ethan following them with his hands full of snacks and beers.
I wave, and my sister flips me off.
“Those are free seats,” I yell as if she can hear me.
The woman behind my sister peeks up, and a bright-red bow catches my eye before her blue eyes meet mine.
She came.
I skate closer.
“Izzy!” I bang my stick against the glass. “Hey, Izzy!”
She sinks into her seat, ducking behind the shaggy fur lining of her suede coat. Penny Lane with bright-red lips.
“Your girlfriend’s here,” Chaplin taunts, skating past me.
Girlfriend is a stretch, but I’ve seen the videos this past week about the bachelor auction. The press ate it up. And why wouldn’t they? It’s so wholesome it could almost be a Hallmark movie.
Well, with me involved? Okay, maybe not.
My teammates are busy wrapping up warm-ups. The arena’s pumped, and I can tell tonight is going to be great, but my focus is solely on her, on getting her to acknowledge me.
“Izzy!” I juggle the puck before her eyes meet mine, and Iflick it to them over the boards, showing off. She reaches up and catches it.
I’m waiting for a smile or a laugh. Instead, she keeps her eyes steady on me and hands the puck to a little boy in front of them. He spins around and cheers, jumping up and down.
Damn.
Annie throws her head back and laughs. Sloane only shrugs.
And Izzy…
She tilts her head, mouth twitching.
Chapter 6
Izzy
Iwant to melt into the sticky concrete floor.
Jack Murphy bellows my name as he bangs his hockey stick against the plexiglass with a crooked smile on his face. I fold into myself, trying to be as small as possible. But it’s too late. I can feel everyone’s attention on us. Then, because I have the worst luck, he appears on the jumbotron over center ice before the camera pans over to me.
Kill.
Me.
