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As soon as we take the faceoff, he’s back in my ear.
“You enjoying my sloppy seconds?”
“Why don’t you go bother Remington? Or are you afraid he’ll kick your ass again?”
He laughs, cutting me off behind the net and crashing me into the boards. “Between the two of you, you’re the bigger pussy.”
“Fuck. Off,” I growl, pushing him off me. He pushes back and drops his stick. I drop mine and before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve got a fistful of his jersey and I’m trying like hell to make contact with his face.
We each get a few hits in before the refs break us apart, and fuck me, give us five minutes in the sin bin.
My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath. I drink some water. I watch the clock. I even glance up at the owner’s box, but I can’t see shit beyond the sea of people. What I don’t do is look at Cooper. I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to give him more of my time.
He’s had enough already.
The asshole may not give a shit about his career, but after two penalties for fighting, a third one may get us tossed out of the game. While I have plenty of money to pay any fines that may come my way, I don’t need to give Dean Prescott any more ammunition to trade my ass.
I’m here to make sure we win, by any and all means necessary.
I’m not stupid enough to think that doesn’t mean the very thing I’m trying to avoid. He has no loyalties, no ties, and no reason to want to keep any of us around beyond our ability to play hockey. I was really hoping his reputation as a wild card wasn’t true, but I have a sinking feeling my agent was right.
As soon as my five minutes are up, I’m back on the ice, but so is Cooper.
I manage to get a hold of the puck for about two seconds before he’s back on me, and I’m forced to pass it to Rhett who throws me a warning look. Does he think I don’t know what’s at stake?
There’s no way Ron knows about my contract situation and the agreement between Avery and I, right? I didn’t get to talk to her before the game, and I—
“Thanks for keeping my side of the bed warm.” He’s got a little smirk on his face, and it takes everything in me not to punch it off him right now.
What the fuck?
There’s no way she’d take him back. No fucking way. He wants another fight.
Linc fires the puck at the goal, and I get it on the rebound, hitting it back to the net only for the goalie to knock it back to our zone.
Rhett whips by me. “He’s trying to get to you. Let it go.”
I snort, glancing toward him quickly. “Like you did last year?
The Stars shoot it off the corner of the goal, and I get the puck, breaking away toward their goal, passing it to Tag who’s lined up in front of it. The disk bounces off the goalie’s stick, and Cooper sends it to their right winger.
“Have you been having a good time pretending to be the family man with my girl and kid?” he sneers, pushing me forward. “That’s the closest to them you’re ever going to get.”
“Fuck off.”
“Didn’t Avery tell you? We talked about getting back together. It’ll be work, but it’ll be worth it to get my family back. Just hope you didn’t wear out her pussy, not that it was that nice to begin with. She’s not exactly the type to keep you engaged in bed. She’s like a limp fish, if you know what I mean.”
Deep breath. One. Two. Three.
“If I’m feeling generous, I may even let you fuck her occasionally. We both know how she’ll open her legs for any hockey player that comes within a two-foot radius.”
There aren’t enough numbers in the world to count.
We’ve got almost eight minutes left in the second period, we’re still losing, and I don’t fucking care. My blood is on fire, and the primal need to defend my woman takes over. My stick is down, and my gloves are off in seconds. The helmet is next, and I grab myself a handful of the jersey he doesn’t deserve to wear.
His hands are on me, holding me close, and I let loose, firing punch after punch, completely ignoring everything he’s throwing my way. His lip is busted and there’s a cut above his eye, but I keep going.
“You stay the fuck away from her,” I shout, landing another hit to the side of his face.
