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“Hey, you could have said that a week ago, butnot now.”
Kingston grimaced slightly, and I wondered if was just being blasé about his breakup when I askedyesterday.
“If it makes you feel better, I don’t have a girlfriend either,” I confessed and called Kingston’s raise.
Kingston’s grimace didn’t let up at my comment. If anything, itgot worse.
“But you have time to find a girl, Warren. We’re getting old, and our pretty faces won’t last forever,” Jones said.
“Hey, at least we have the game,” I said and raised an imaginary drink in salute, avoiding Kingston’s eyes. Despite what Jones and everybody outside of my family believed, I didn’t always want a girl. In fact, I could practically feel the needle on my Kinsey scale shifting, and it was all thanks to a man that I couldn’t have.
“Here, here,” Jones cheered and copied my toast with a water bottle.
Berg smiled through his thick beard, and Kingston just shrugged hiseyebrows.
A couple moments later, I won the first round and gloated with faux confidence. It wouldn’t last.
I was proven correct as we played a few more rounds. I lost every one and was the first out. I pouted at their teasing and pulled my legs up onto my seat to watch the rest ofthe game.
“So, you ready for tonight, Warren?” Jones asked, folding at Berg’s raise.
I peeked around my seat to get a look at Berg’s cards. He angled them forward to let me see his hand. It was garbage.
“I’m always ready. That is if you guys are going to help me out this time.” I poked Berg in the shoulder and shot him a smile to let them know that I had no hard feelings. The guys had been perfectly professional since then. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give them hell aboutit though.
Jones looked at his feet, and Berg smiled back at me shyly. Kingston just smirked, the scar on his lips twitching teasingly. He knew I was just busting their balls.
“I think you can handle yourself no matter what we do, Warren,” Kingston said. He folded his hand, and Berg collected hiswinnings.
Wow. To get a compliment like that from a player as good as Kingston was enough to shoot my self-esteem to the moon. He must have noticed my surprise because his smirk turned into that breath-taking smile, and I was grinning back before I could catch myself.
“Damn right, she can,” Jones seconded, jerking my attention away from Kingston. Berg nodded inagreement.
“Thanks, guys,” I said then instinctually deflected by being a chirpy bastard. “But I don’t want to steal all your thunder. It’s rude to take from theelderly.”
They all laughed, and Berg handed me half of his chips, putting me back in the game. Awesome.
The next round began, and I made sure to keep my eyes on my cards and off a certain assistant captain. We played until Berg finished wiping the floor with us and bullshitted until the plane touched down inVancouver.
It wasn’t until after the team dropped our stuff off in the hotel we were staying at and then headed out for a late lunch to fuel up for the game that I realized I went the whole flight and landing without any anxiety about the planecrashing.
Chapter 8
I deflected the last puck with my stick and slapped my glove down on it before it could rebound anywhere. A groan came from the crowd, but I smiled and whooped invictory.
Seconds later, my team swarmed me, giving me hugs and slaps in excitement as the game ended. We eventually broke up and lined up for handshakes with the other team. As Kingston skated by to join the end of the line, he reached out with his stick and slashed me on the pads. At my questioning look, he gave me an approving nod, and my face heated.
We shook hands with our opponents, and I got more smiles than I thought I would. If any team was already used to women in the league, it was this one. I made sure to give friendly handshakes to everyone, but when I got to the end of the line, instead of a hand reaching for me, I got pulled into an embrace cushioned by layers of pads.
“Nice game, kid,” Rachel McCarthy said into my ear, her voice barely audible over the noise in the arena. She might have only been a year older than me, but she was my idol—the first woman to join the NHL. I’d always expected to be the first, the woman to break that glass ceiling in the league, but when she was drafted a year before me, I couldn’t have been happier to have my expectations shattered. She took off a lot of pressure from me and handled the responsibility of being the first way better than I would have.
I almost tripped over my feet when I met her during my time with the Blades, and she was just as excited to meet the other woman in the league as I was, even if we didn’t play together. It was surreal, and today, finally, two women were on the ice, playing against each other in the NHL. Times werechanging.
I kind of wanted topunch her.
It would have probably been the only time I ever got into a fight during a game. The regular boys aren’t too keen on fighting ladies, so I’ve never been in a fight on the ice. I felt like I was missing out. Maybe next time we played against each other, Rachel and I could drop gloves. Just to get the whole hockey experience.
Later, I followed my team into the locker room and collapsed into my locker, not having the energy to start undressing yet. The game was close, but I shut Vancouver down during the shootout. My thighs were burning, my ribs were stinging where I took a puck to the side, and sweat was dripping down my face. Still, I couldn’t stop smiling. I had dominated my first NHLshootout!
