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“It’s terrible and it’s not even true.” I slipped the phone into the pocket of my riding jacket. “I was the one who tried to save his position on the team. It was Coach who bumped him.”
“And you weren’t slumming it?” Ali prodded.
“No.” I was surprised that she’d even ask. “I – I – shit.”
“Oh my God, Everleigh.” Ali put a hand to her chest.
“How many more ‘Ohmy God, Everleigh’s are you going to do today?” I gave her a playful shove.
She chuckled. “I don’t know. How many more bombshells are you going to drop on me, like the fact that you were secretly dating a player for almost a year, and that you fell in love with him?”
I took the deepest breath I’d taken all day. “How about that I’m pregnant?”
“Oh…my…” She didn’t finish the sentence. “We need to fix this.”
I dug my feet into the sand, deep enough to feel the cold seeping up from the earth. “Oh, Ali. There’s no fixing this mess.”
TWENTY-TWO
GUNNAR
I was startingto wonder if the new guy was just a myth created to get us to play harder. The mystery player still hadn’t shown up, and no press announcements had been made about a new acquisition or trade.
Our stats had improved with every game, and the more I hung out with the guys outside of practice, the better we seemed to gel inside the stadium.
Fresh off a win the night before, the spirits were high in the dressing room. I had scored the game winning goal with an assist from Hammer, and no longer looked up at the owner’s box in practice or games. My anger at Everleigh and what she had done had simmered, and that made it a hell of a lot easier to stop thinking about her.
The team was on the ice, skating laps to warm up, when movement in the hallway from the dressing room caught my eye. A player – someone wearing one of our practice jerseys, was heading for the ice surface. Coach was walking beside him, and the two seemed to be in deep conversation.
Smitty glided beside me. “You see that?” His mouthguard hung jauntily from his teeth and he used it as a pointer.
“I guess that’s the new guy.” The positivity I’d felt all morning fizzled.
Colton was at the far end of the ice surface and joined us. “Who is it?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see.”
By the time we reached the players’ bench, the new guy was standing on the ice. Coach blew his whistle and we all gathered around him.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. We had placed bets about the new player, but none of us had guessed that management would blow the budget for Liam Bradshaw. I glanced to the back of the pack, where I knew Colton would be standing. His face was expressionless, but from behind the clear plastic shield, his eyes were stone-cold. Colton King, Captain of the New York Thunder, had to play on the same team as the only player in the league he truly despised.
“Team, I want to introduce Liam Bradshaw.”
A few of the guys muttered a hello, but I kept my eyes on Colton. His eyes were locked on Bradshaw’s and he didn’t say a word.
“Let’s show Bradshaw the Perfect Play.” Coach clapped his hands together.
I shook my head and wondered if Bradshaw would recognize the move. We had stolen it off of him, after all. As we skated into place, I spoke to Colton in a low voice. “You alright?”
“Never been better,” Colton growled.
We ran the play a few times before Coach called me off the ice and put Bradshaw in my place. “You got it Twenty-Two?” Coach called Bradshaw by his number. Thankfully, he wasn’t given number eleven. Taking my position and my number would’ve been too much for me.
Bradshaw had a goofy grin on his face. “I think I can handle this one.”
I hopped over the boards and joined Smitty on the bench. “Liam Bradshaw?”
“I know.” Smitty rolled his eyes. “How long until Kinger gives him a concussion?”
