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"Davies, five minutes, misconduct," the ref shouts, skating up. He places his hands by his hips, moving them back and forth to show I'm being penalized for misconduct, which is bullshit since Hurst tripped himself and I never put a hand on him.
"Hurst, you're out." He points to Hurst next and then lays the flat of his hand against his head, signaling that Hurst is being assessed a match penalty for misconduct. He's out for the rest of the game. The ref warned him last time, but he didn't listen.
The crowd boos loudly, pissed one of theirs is being tossed out.
It's not nearly as satisfying as it should be. I still want to mess up his pretty face for talking about my girl. Laney isn't fat. She's beautiful. Those curves keep my dick hard. We say a lot of stupid shit on the ice at times, but our families are off-limits. Only the real fuckers in the league bring them into our rivalries and grudges.
Hurst hops to his feet, holding his hands up like he's innocent. He's not. He's been on me the entire game, trying to goad me into a fight. He's already been in the box three fucking times over it. "My bad," he says to the ref, still smirking at me. "My bad."
Kristján and Theo stay right on top of me until the ref escorts Hurst out of the immediate vicinity.
"You good?" Theo asks, grabbing my gloves and stick.
"I'm good," I growl. It's a lie. I'm furious that motherfucker brought Laney into this. And I'm worried as hell that he knew about her in the first place. I know our date was all over the news, but last I checked, everyone was reporting that she was the simple winner of the contest. Kelsey didn't post the photo I sent her and the paps didn't catch me taking her home this morning.
I take my stick and gloves from Theo and then skate to the penalty box before throwing myself down on the bench. Strauss,the Hurricanes' coach, is red-faced and yelling, pissed that Hurst got booted out of the game.
MacAthie glares daggers at me from our bench. I ignore him and the penalty box attendant, instead searching the row of seats behind the bench, looking for Kelsey. She was sitting there before the game started, but I don't see her now.
Fuck. I need her to check on Laney. Something isn't right. She didn't answer my calls, and Hurst knows about her. Did I miss a photographer this morning? Did something drop after we got to the arena?
"Fucking Hurst," I growl.
Groban, the attendant, snorts under his breath. He's not a big fan of Jackson Hurst either. Matter of fact, there aren't many in the league who are big Hurst fans. He's a shady son of a bitch. I can't wait to catch his stupid ass off the ice.
The game resumes.
I watch from the bench as my teammates fight one player down, which is bullshit. Hurst should have received a major penalty in addition to the match penalty. It would have evened the playing field out there until I'm released from the box. Thankfully, Theo, Kristján, Gray, Jonas, and Logan, our goalie, know what they're doing. They don't give an inch, keeping the Hurricanes from evening the score. We're still up by one.
As soon as the whistle blows, I barrel out of the box onto the ice, ready to end this fucking game so I can go get my girl.
"Davies!" Coach shouts, stompinginto the locker room.
I glance up from my phone to see him standing in the doorway, his hands on his hips. I shove my phone back into my locker and climb to my feet to go meet him. The guys get quiet, already knowing he's going to ream my ass for letting Hurst get to me out there.
"You get yourself kicked out of this game, you'll be riding the bench through playoffs, son," he growls at me, anger banked in his eyes. "Stop being such a fucking hothead and letting these motherfuckers get to you."
"Yes sir."
"What'd he say?"
I shake my head, refusing to repeat what he said about Laney.
"He was talking shit about his girl," Theo says, anger in his voice. "It was fucked up."
"It was," Kristján agrees, backing Theo up. As the captain, Kristján tends to be cooler about shit than the rest of us. He doesn’t get worked up over a lot and talks us down when we need it. But I hear the heat in his voice. He's pissed about what Hurst said too.
"Handle it off the ice," Coach mutters, giving me another grim look. "Kelsey needs to see you."
"Thanks." I duck out into the hall to find Kelsey pacing up and down outside.
Coach follows me out, blocking the door like he intends to keep my nosy teammates inside. Which doesn't bode well for whatever Kelsey has to tell me. Neither does the fact that she's pacing. Kelsey doesn't pace.
"What happened?" I growl.
"Photos of you and Laney making out at her door this morning hit the news about two hours ago," she says, blowing out a sharp breath. "Jamie Knight broke the story. There are a couple photos of you guys leaving your house too. They know she stayed with you last night."
"Son of a bitch."
