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Tempers flared, and tensions soared.
Despite a 6-2 win, Coach Tucker had almost blown a gasket after the game. Our goalie, Austin, was issued a one-game suspension, and Coach made it more than clear if we ever pulled that kind of shit again, it wouldn’t only be the referee calling penalties.
My cell phone vibrated, and I dug it out of my pocket, smiling at the text.
SB: Good game, Mason brother. Well done, although you did miss two assists. Bad luck. See you soon???
I chuckled to myself at his honesty.
MB: Thanks, bud. I’ll try harder next time. I’m not sure yet but I’ll call tomorrow, okay?
SB: Okay. Love you, MB.
MB: Love you too, SB.
“Who is she?” Stu asked around a shit-eating grin.
“She?” I frowned.
“Yeah, the girl making you smile like the cat who got the cream.” He smirked as he wiped down the bar.
The Penalty Box was the team’s favorite hangout—it probably had something to do with the fact they didn’t card players from the Lakers hockey team. The place was practically a shrine to the team’s success over the years: jerseys, newspaper cuttings, and framed photographs of alumni players hung on the walls and littered the big glass display cabinet along the back wall.
But tonight, it was rowdy. A full house, all looking to celebrate with the team on their second win of the new season.
“Not a she,” I said. “My little brother, Scottie.”
“My bad, my man.”
I waved him off, sliding ten dollars across the bar in exchange for my ice-cold bottle of Heineken. But I didn’t go and join my friends right away. Instead, I leaned back against the bar, taking it all in.
Junior year.
Shit.
Sometimes, it felt like I’d blinked and missed the last two years. Between playing with the team, keeping my grades up, and traveling back and forth to Pittsburgh, it didn’t leave much time for anything else.
I spotted my friend Noah and his girlfriend Rory across the room, lost in their own little world. She’d moved in with him, her brother Austin, and Connor at the beginning of the semester, and let’s just say Noah wasn’t fooling anyone when he’d said she wasn’t his type.
I’d spotted the signs that he wanted her almost instantly. Almost a month later and they were already deep in the PDAs, and I love yous.
I didn’t resent him. He’d found his girl, and she was a pretty fucking amazing one at that. I just didn’t want him to suddenly think that I needed to meet someone and settle down.
Because I didn’t.
Fuck that with sprinkles on top.
Deciding to head over to my friends and join the celebrations, I cut through the sea of bodies, only to be intercepted.
“Hey, Mason.” The pretty brunette smiled up at me, all come-fuck-me eyes and legs for days.
“Uh, hey.”
“I’m Tasmin. We met at the party the other weekend.”
“I go to a lot of parties.”
“I know. I’ve seen you around. I’m a sophomore.” She batted her eyelashes, giving me that coy smile girls did whenever they wanted something.
