Page 124 of These Wicked Hearts

Atlas looks over at Grey, nodding. “Me either. Oli must be so pissed.”

“Remember that game against the Cyclones?”

Atlas barks out a laugh.

“I thought he was going to skin Ryker alive.”

Atlas smiles. “I don’t know where his head was at.”

“What happened?” I like seeing him this animated.

Atlas turns to me, his mouth only inches from mine, and my eyes drop to the slow smile that spreads on his lips. I can’t stop thinking about that night in his comic room. This man has shocked, surprised, and irritated me ever since we met.

That night was the first night he awed me.

So animated and alive, I couldn’t believe it. Seeing him talk about the things he loves reminds me a lot about how I used to feel about music. I want to feel that passion again. It’s slowly coming back to me piece by piece.

“Our friend Ryker. I don’t know what happened to him in that game. He was making so many mistakes, and Oli does not do well with losing.”

Grey snorts. “Understatement.”

“I don’t know how you can follow this. It’s chaos up here. I can’t imagine how it is down there actually playing.” Warmth tickles my face and I turn to see his lips inches from my ear.

“It takes some getting used to. You’re watching the puck too much,” he murmurs close, sending a thrill down my spine.

“Is that the tactic you use down there? Don’t watch the puck?”

“No.” He laughs. “Right now, see those players? They’re changing lines,” he says softly. “Fresh players. Watch number thirty-seven.”

I find him in the crowd. “Who’s that?” I watch the player glide over. “He doesn’t have the puck, though.”

“Not yet. That’s Ivan, he’s a defenseman, and although his job is defending, he’s also one of the Otters’ top goal scorers. He’s hunting.” I watch him skate away, keeping track. A teammate snaps the puck. He shoulder-checks him to steal it and barrels down the ice. “Don’t watch the puck. Watch the players.”

The man snaps across the ice.

“Hockey’s about space. Everyone thinks it’s chaos, but really, it’s just predicting your opponent’s next move. It’s why we study game play. We learn our opponent as well as we know ourselves. Watch this. Number fifty-six on the Hawks.”

I find the player he’s talking about. I look to the side and see his mouth right there. The low hum of his voice feels like a soft hand pressing against my lower back. “I see him.”

“That’s Vincent Donovan. He’s a winger. I bet you once he has the puck, which he will get in a moment . . . I bet you he’s going to go straight to the goal, and when the Otters come to him, he’s going to just hit it as hard as he can in their D zone.”

“D zone?”

“Where their goalie is. Watch.”

I watch them go, and he’s right. The Otters are in possession, but Vincent comes out of nowhere, body-checking his opponent and taking possession of the puck. He barrels down the ice but there are two players who come in hot. He does it, he shoots it hard and fast. I look to the side and see Atlas grin wide.

“Impressive.”

“He always does it, it’s like he panics. Just shoot the puck, ya know? What’s the worst that can happen? You miss? He misses a lot of chances that way. I’d rather shoot and miss than shoot away from pressure.” Atlas doesn’t move away from my ear. “This one’s a forecheck,” he whispers, quieter now.

“What does that mean?”

“A forecheck is when the other team has possession in or near their zone. A forward like yours truly would try to force it away. A backcheck is when the other team has it and you’re carrying it to your zone. A forward.”

“Like yours truly.” I smirk.

He laughs. “We skate our ass off and try to force a turnover. There’s a little more to it, but I can teach you. Since, you know, you’re so into hockey now.”