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“No fucking way.” Hart frowns, watching us. “You two?”
Isabella smiles then pulls me closer. Before I can say anything her mouth is on mine, kissing me like I’m the oxygen she needs. It’s only when I hear the huge roar of the crowd that I realize we’re on the big screen.
And everybody is watching.
I wrench away from her, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy looking over my shoulder.
“He’s much better than you in bed, too,” she shouts at Hart. “He actually knows how to make a girl feel good.”
“What the hell?” I frown. Is this really happening? People are on their feet, shouting and jeering. Phones are being held up, recording our every move. My heart hammers against my fucking chest because this is Mackenzie’s sister.
The one she’s only just forgiven. The one who broke her heart.
I want to shake some sense into Isabella but she doesn’t even know what she’s done. She doesn’t know about me and Mackenzie.
I’m just some guy she’s using to rile up Hart.
“You’re good to go,” the medic tells me, not that he did much for me anyway. And I’m still reeling, putting my helmet back on as I ready myself to get back on the ice.
“Are you and her a thing now?” Simons asks as he skates toward the bench, allowing me to replace him.
“No.” I shake my head as I vault onto the ice. I look up at the staff box but I can’t see Mac. Can’t see anybody. There are too many people, there’s too much noise.
“I need to get out of here,” I tell him, yelling above the cheers. I need to see her, explain. I can’t believe it was on the damn screen. Before I can say anything else I get body slammed by Hart. I don’t fall down this time, but I’m fucking winded and annoyed and about to erupt.
“Enjoy my leftovers, fuckface,” he tells me. “And by the way, her sister was much better.”
Blood rushes through my ears, almost matching the roar of the crowd.
And then I realize. He’sthe guy. The one who broke the two of them apart. The one who abandoned Mac when she went viral.
Danny Hart.
I’m a fucking idiot. If I hadn’t been so distracted by the game I would have realized earlier. No wonder he and Isabella were fighting it out.
He’s the one that tore the family apart. And now my girl, the woman I fucking love, had to see this happen again. Watch her sister kiss her boyfriend.
Red mist descends. I throw my gloves to the ice and he does the same, before I launch myself at him. “Fuck you, asshole,” I tell him, grabbing his chin because he needs to hear what I have to say.
In the part of my brain that’s still working I hazily register that play has stopped. The referees are surrounding us, monitoring the fight.
Hart grabs my jersey, pulling me toward him and I push him hard. His face is screwed up and angry, but I’m angrier. I’m fucking furious at him. He hurt Mac. He hurt me. I’m so ready for this game to be over.
And then he spits in my face. I feel it hit my cheek and it makes me want to heave. Through the ringing in my ears I hear the screaming crowd.
They think I’m defending Isabella.Damn. This needs to be finished.
This time I mean business. I push him until he’s down and I’m on top of him, my fist back and ready for impact. But then a hand grabs my arm. Two referees pull me backward, putting five feet of air between me and the asshole who hurt my girl.
“I’m stopping,” I mutter. “Let me go.”
So they do and I wipe the spittle from my cheek and slowly heave myself up, skating backward as Hart does the same.
I don’t need to look at the referee to know what I need to do next. I’m heading to the penalty box. Even worse, we’ll be a man down because I instigated the damn fight. This time I can’t even look up at the box to see if Mac is there. Or at the team because the kids I’ve been working with all year have watched me lose it on the ice.
I’m completely ashamed. But also annoyed. I should have punched that asshole.
My ass hits the bench as the referee whistles and the game plays on.
