I laugh. “Good try but not happening. I may not regret this time, but I will regret the next, which is why there won’t be one.”
He raises his head in a show of defiance and grins in that infuriatingly superior way he has, as though he knows better than I.
“We aren’t done. You can’t resist this.” He points at his crotch, exits the elevator, then darts back inside, gives me a quick kiss, and backs out.
The arrogance of that man.
I embrace my irritation and allow myself to fume. Back on familiar ground, I’m ready to escape to my room and contemplate what the hell is going on between us and how to squelch my growing interest in him.
“Good night,” I say as the door swishes shut. The last thing I see is the knowing smirk on his face.
Chapter 15
Where Did That Come From?
The Icehawks demonstrated during Game One that they deserve to be here. The score doesn’t reflect how competitive this game was. Colorado and Portland were tied until the last few minutes. Fatigue began to show on both teams, but Colorado was able to draw on their extensive playoff experience and dig in, while the Icehawks ran on fumes toward the end. The Icehawks’ young goalie, Roman Daniels, played a lights-out game through the majority of the third period but finally caved under pressure. Not a surprise considering he’s making his first playoff appearance. Another notable bright spot was Drakos Lenkov. He might be on the verge of getting his groove back, and his timing couldn’t be better. It’s all-hands-on-deck at this point. Icehawks fans should be heartened by how hard their team fought. Good things are on the horizon. —Aria at All Hockey News
~~Drakos~~
Game Two, and we’re ready for these guys. At least, I hope we are.
I banish my doubts and concentrate on thinking positive thoughts. Believing you can win goes a long way toward actually winning.
I crank the sound on some upbeat music, which draws laughter from some of the guys, as most of what I’m playing right now is cheesy pop music, and the majority aren’t big fans.
“Damn, what’s up with Aria?” Roman holds up his phone as if we can read the article from a distance. We can’t, but several guys consult their own phones, including me, to see what she has to say now. I shouldn’t be doing this just before a game, but I’m curious if the criticism continues or if she tones it down, especially when it comes to me.
I skim the article and find myself smiling.
“Damn, no way did Aria write this.” Wild scratches his head in confusion.
“Doesn’t sound like her,” admits Dash, who’s normally an advocate for not reading any news about the team.
“She wrote it,” I hear myself saying louder than intended, and every head in the room turns toward me.
Koko narrows his gaze and studies me closely, as if he knows something. “How can you tell?”
He’s baiting me, I can feel it. There’s a trap waiting to be tripped, and I’m about to walk right into it.
“The prose is like hers.”
“The prose?” Koko is straight-faced for a moment before he bursts into laughter. “Drake, my buddy, are you into self-torture or what?”
I don’t dare ask what the fuck he’s talking about, but I want to. Turns out I don’t have to. One of the other guys opens his mouth.
“Why do you say that, Koko?” asks Lucas Sutton, the newest member of the team after being called up recently.
“Our illustrious alt cap here was seen leaving the club across the street with Aria a couple nights ago.” Koko’s smug in his knowledge, and I want to use my fist to wipe that smirk off his face. The guy is such an asshole.
Once again, all eyes turn to me for an explanation as to why I consorted with the enemy. Coach chooses that precise moment to enter the locker room for his pregame speech, and everyone forgets about needling me regarding Aria. For the moment anyway.
“Okay, boys, I’ll make this short and sweet.”
A few guys snort. Jeffs has a rep for pregame pep talks that last a little longer than necessary.
“We need this one. We don’t want to go back to Portland down by two games. That’s an uphill battle we don’t want to fight. We battled hard last game but fell apart in the last few minutes. Dig deeper and find a new level you didn’t know you had. This is the playoffs, and that’s what winners do. Winners find a way to win. Winners rise above adversity. Winners don’t give up. Are we winners?” He shouts the last part, and the guys roar in agreement.
Our spirits run high as we prepare for the game. Minutes later we burst onto the ice for warm-ups as if we’re in the finals, not the first round.
