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Now as far as the sport itself went, guess what?
I didn’t like it.
I actually took a great sense of pride at avoiding hockey at all costs.
I didn’t want to know anything about the players, the teams or the standings. I did not aspire to be a hockey photographer for the rest of my life. This was just a little bit of a side gig that was kind of my main gig for the moment.
For the moment meaning years…
But still.
The only player on the team so far that looked familiar was the guy who took the shot on the goalie.
I ended up on the players’ bench.
That’s where I was introduced to the head coach of the team.
His name?
Coach.
I fought hard not to eye roll at that one.
As far as me actually recognizing a player, I was right.
The player’s name was Abel.
I remembered him because he had always been in trouble with the league.
The rest of the team?
I heard names, saw some faces, smiled and nodded.
Then Coach whistled to the goalie and signaled for him to take his mask off.
My heart jumped for a second.
Yes! Show me your face!
I felt creepy for a second.
The goalie grabbed his mask and hesitated for a few seconds.
Then he peeled his mask back and rested it up on his head.
That’s when I realized why I had been drawn to him. And I realized why he didn’t want to take his mask off.
The goalie for the team was Maverick.
The guy I had hooked up with.
The hockey player whose life was now in grave danger.
Maverick’sand my eyes met and his jaw not only tightened but rocked left to right. His lip fluttered with a slight curl. Anger rested deep in those sexy eyes of his.
I had an idea or two as to why.
Could it be because I used my middle name to introduce myself to him instead of my first name?
