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I grabbed Wy around the waist to keep him from going over and getting our team into trouble. He bared his teeth, and there was something the fuck wrong with me because that made my cock firm up.
The game was 3-2 in our favor, and the timer was counting down toward zero, but everyone was running on high gear, riding that first game adrenaline. I loved holding Wy as he struggled, but Boss, Nikolai, and Withers skated over and blocked his path, especially since the Bayou Blades’ coach was now out, getting in on the action with the ref.
In the stands, a group of men in leather stood and jeered. From here I couldn’t tell what was on the patches above and below the logo on the front of their jackets, but it didn’t take a New Gothenburg local to figure out who they were. They had a reputation—a bad one.
Wy glanced in that direction, too, and snorted. “We’ve got the Kings of Men MC on our side. Maybe we should get them to put a hit out on that dirty fucker.”
“Get ready to play,” I barked at everyone, and they nodded. “Are you all right?” I asked Wy.
He growled and nodded, swiping his stick in the direction of Fairborn. “That fucker. He caught me from a blind spot and just plowed me right into the wall.”
“Don’t go after him. You don’t want to get kicked out of this game and the next one for fighting.” Withers tapped Wy’s stick with his and shook his head. “Play smart.”
“That’s bullshit,” Wy snapped. “He did that shit on purpose.”
“Yeah, because you’re smaller than him and he could get away with it.” I shoved Wy lightly away from me and was happy to see him skate off without any trouble, but my heart took a hot minute to settle back down where it belonged. The hit would be a lot for anyone to handle, let alone someone Wy’s size.
“Charging,” the ref shouted as he skated away from the Bayou Blade, who slunk toward his penalty box. I pumped a fist in the air, and Wy cracked a smile, but I could tell by the way he moved he would be sore later.
Nothing exciting happened for the final minute of the game, even though we rushed the goalie twice, and we all smiled at each other as the buzzer sounded. We were still up by one point.
“We won!” I shouted, and our guys cheered. Everyone immediately turned toward Wy and started slapping his helmet. My chest squeezed and I bit the tip of my tongue. We’d worked hard for that one single fucking goal that put us ahead.
After we got our first celebration out of the way—there would be many tonight, I was sure—we did the song and dance where we shook hands with the other team at center ice after the game. The asshole who’d checked Wy wasn’t in the line, and I thought maybe that was a good thing because I probably would’ve wanted to punch him in the fucking face.
“You did okay for a figure skater,” someone said to Wystan, his European accent giving his words a cute twang, and then he laughed. I didn’t think the comment was meant to be mean, and God knew I’d said the same shit to Wy in the past.
Wy smiled and said something light and airy I didn’t quite catch, and they both laughed.
When I got to the guy, I squeezed his hand until he grunted and flinched before moving on. I was pretty sure Boss and Nikolai did the same thing as they came along behind me. I might want Wy out of my life forever, but our team was the only one who got to make fun of him.
“Good job, boys!” Elissa yelled at us as we were leaving the ice, and Wy skated over there to meet her where she was hanging over the boards. She gave him a hug. I looked at Dad and started in that direction, but he didn’t appear quite as happy as Elissa did. He would probably have something to say about the plays we’d used or the fact that I hadn’t been close enough to keep Wy from getting crunched. I didn’t bother going over for the lecture, just waved and took off while Wy got his pats on the head.
He shot me a long glance as we made our way back to the locker room in a group, and my gut heated as I remembered what he’d said before we’d hit the ice. He wanted me to fuck him in the showers. Honestly, it was hot as hell, but there were too many people around who liked to hang out. Despite knowing it wasn’t the best idea in the world, I took my time getting ready to shower.
“I want the trainers to look at you,” Coach Hill said to Wy as soon as he came into the locker room, still beaming from his win. “That was a dirty fucking move on their part. Should’ve been a major penalty, but whatever.”
“I’m fine,” Wy said, but Coach Hill shook his head.
“No, I won’t have it. Get looked at. Your health is important. I know at your age it seems like nothing can knock you down, but trust me, if you don’t take care of yourself now, you won’t be moving at all by the time you’re my age.”
Wy rolled his eyes and nodded. He went off with Rémi, who had joined the Polar Storms training crew after he’d semiretired from looking after the Blizzards. His blue eyes noticed every bruise, whether they were from a game or not, and he would ask about injuries in a soft voice that made you feel cared for. I was nearly jealous that Wy was going with him, and that was pretty goddamned fucked up. I was such an asshole. I went to the bench in front of my locker and sat on it, exhausted and happy about the win, but still hollow. It wasn’t me leading the team to victory.
I ran a hand over my face. How could I feel this way after a win?
“You were a fucking bear on the ice today,” Thane said with a smile. He came over and ruffled my hair, and I shoved him off.
“Yeah, a papa bear. I saw you rushing to Wy’s side like you were gonna rip that Blades’ face off,” Boss said as he plopped down next to me and started removing his gear. “Daddy Atlas on the case.” He winked at me and cackled.
“Fuck off,” I said with a snort. “I was just mad that Wy didn’t get up and take that asshole’s head off.”
That got me some chuckles from the guys around me. I took my phone out of my locker and sat there watching some highlights from the game that were already on the college website. My jaw tensed as I saw that hit again because it looked even worse from a distance than it had up close. Wy’s body bounced off the boards. It was fucking brutal.
Coach Hill went around talking to everyone about their part in the game, and when he got to me and noticed what I was watching, he grunted and patted my shoulder. “We’ll talk with Wy over coffee about the plays we want to use in the next game. Get him up to speed. You were doing more than he was today,” Coach Hill said before he moved off, and I gritted my teeth.
That was because I should’ve been captain.
Bitterness pooled in my gut, and by the time Wy came back from Rémi, he’d gotten his wish—we were alone. A text hit my phone and I opened it.
