Page 46 of Play Dirty

“So?”

“So you can catch them by passing to the open man. Which in this case is Caleb…” I paused, looking down at my tablet, “seventy-six percent of the time.”

He spat, drank, and then spat again. For some reason, even that was sexy.

“Shed the puck, shake the defender,” I told him. “That’s the only way you’ll advance it safely. Left lane, whenever you can. They’re weak on that side.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” he asked, his tone surprisingly genuine.

“It will.”

Staring down at me, he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Look, you can’t do it all by yourself,” I added firmly. “You’ll need to force tighter coverage on your wings. It’s the only way you’ll get open.”

Grayson took another drink, then tossed the bottle aside. He looked me up and down.

“By now you should’ve noticed,” he countered, “that I make my own openings.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” I shot back. “Problem is, so have the Phantoms.”

Staring back at me, his mouth twitched, momentarily. For a half second, I could’ve sworn I just made Grayson Sinclair grin.

Shit, it was so hard to tell.

“Now go grab Wilder for me,” I ordered.

He lingered another few seconds — just long enough to show he wasn’t being ordered around. Then he skated off in the direction of Ares.

Likewise, the big defenseman waited an extra half minute before showing up. He’d taken his gloves off, and was methodically cracking his knuckles.

“Listen,” I told him. “The Phantoms aren’t a physical team. They’re all about finesse.”

“Finesse,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“They all go down the same, Spreadsheet,” he grunted. “Makes no difference to me.”

“Sure,” I conceded. “And that’s fine. But—”

“You telling me not to hit them?”

“No,” I replied quickly. “You can hit them. In fact, we’re counting on you to hit them.”

Ares stopped cracking his knuckles for a moment. His eyes went instantly narrow.

“Just don’t chase them.”

He paused, as if considering my words. Eventually he nodded.

“And for fuck’s sake, don’t fight them,” I added. “Please.”

“Can’t promise anything, Spreadsheet,” he said, as he launched back from the boards.

“Ares, wait!”

It should’ve been too late. He was already in motion.