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He nods. Shakes his head. Shrugs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but doesn’t really look that way.”
“I’ll have my shit together for the game. I’m fine.” I rake a hand through my hair. “Just getting used to things being different with Cammy, that’s all.”
“She’s texting you. That’s good. Or—” He takes an uneasy step back, wincing as he asks, “Is that not good?”
I can see the discomfort on his face. “What, you think I’m trying toshake her? Cammy Wesley. Baxter’s little-sister-in-law.”
“Hell, I don’t know what to think with the way you’re glaring at that thing. And seriously, at this point, I’m not sure anyone around here is thinking of her as Baxter’s anything.” His hands come up before I have a chance to react. “Not because of his status on the team either. Just pretty sure if anyone thinks of her as anyone’s… it’s yours.”
Mine.
I drop back against the wall and shake my head. “I don’t think that’s going to stick.”
“You guys break up?”
Yes? No? Is it really breaking up when you go back to being friends after being friends with benefits? “She’s getting back with Matty’s dad. We’re still friends.”
He blinks at me a minute. Then looks around before stepping in closer. “Rux, I’m sorry, man. And it doesn’t take any more than looking at you to know you need to vent off some… feelings. But this is serious. People are watching. What you do tonight matters. You hear what I’m saying?”
I nod. That talk of trades isn’t going away. I need to play with my head in the game, not like some jealous torqued-off boyfriend. Because even if I’m not the guy who gets Cammy forever, I don’t want to leave her and Matty. “I’ve got this.”
“I know you do. We’re going to be unstoppable out there. And this shit you’ve got in your head right now?”
Feels more like my heart than my head, but I’m not going to argue with him.
“Use it. But be smart about how you do, right?” He claps a hand on my shoulder and heads for the ice.
Closing my eyes, I breathe through my nose. Think about the plays. The game. The opposing players and everything I know about them.
I think about those soft blue eyes looking up at me the last time I was inside—No.
Refocusing, I think about what the assistant coach talked about after morning skate. About Matty waking up with his dad and mom coming out of Cammy’s room— My fist bangs back into the wall.
My time is up. I need to get my head in the game. I need to play like I’m part of this winning team and not some wash-up waiting on getting traded.
I hit the ice hard. Doesn’t bother me that I’m not starting. If I were the one making the decisions, after the last couple of games, I’m not sure I’d play me at all.
But tonight’s different. It’s not like the last few games.
Tonight, my focus is laser sharp. There’s nothing but the puck and a bunch of assholes who want to keep it from me… And every single one of them looks like Jeremy Levenson.
* * *
Cammy
Rux is on fire.The commentators can’t stop talking about him, speculating over what it is that changed between the last game and this one.
It’s like he took charge of the ice and everyone fell into line. Everyone from our team, that is.
The opponents? They can’t catch their breath. They can’t keep up. And God forbid anyone get in his way… They feel it.
He’s playing hard. And he’s playing smart. And while each hit he delivers has my knees tucking tighter into my chest and the breath punching from my lungs—they’re good hits. Solid plays. And he’s putting the Slayers solidly in the lead.
This is how Rux plays when he isn’t distracted, when he’s able to clear his head and bring his focus back to the game.
I’ve seen Rux play hard before. But this is something different. This is intense, and amazing. And a little bit terrifying. This is the man I love, fighting to stay on the teamhe loves.
Matty looked like he might never forgive me when I told him he needed to go to bed after the second period, but five minutes into the third, and I know I made the right choice. The other team has had it with Rux and is starting to come back, retaliating with cheap shots and hits that fall further over the line each time.
