I like the thought of Charlotte up there, too. I hope she’s having a good time, so far, sipping one of those mango mimosas they serve in the WAG box and enjoying her night off. She’s been grinding hard on plans for the film festival gala this week. She deserves a fun night out with her friends.
Followed by a good time post-game with her fake boyfriend…
I haven’t asked if she’s up for doing something after our “meet-up for staged kissing” in the family area, but I hope she will be. A win always gets me too amped up to go home right away, and we’regoingto win tonight.
I feel it in my bones…
The Outlaws’ center—smug, beefy dude, the kind who thinks his size makes him untouchable—tries to muscle past me along the boards. I hip-check him clean, legal, and he goes stumbling while the puck bounces free. I scoop it up and send it back to Blue, who fires it up the ice to Grammercy with precision that would make a sniper jealous.
And Grammercy?
Well, he puts the puck where it belongs—right in the Outlaws’ net.
“That’s it, men. That’s it!” Coach yells from the bench. “That’s how we vanquish the enemy! Give them no quarter!”
A laugh vibrates through my chest. Coach may be pissed at me at the moment, but he’s still the same Dwarf Warlord on thesidelines. He’s every bit as locked in as we are and always ready with The Lord-of-the-Rings-level hype that makes the fight for the win feel epic.
The whistle blows, and we change lines.
I skate to the bench, still grinning, adrenaline singing in my veins. The season opener is off to a solid fucking start, if I do say so myself. For the first time since that disciplinary meeting, I feel the weight around my neck ease a bit. Surely, management can see the magic this team makes on the ice. That’s not the kind of alchemy you want to fuck with by kicking a key player off the team for dubious reasons.
I drop onto the bench, reaching for my water bottle as Blue lets out a strangled sound beside me.
I look up sharply, already worried, even before I see the shock on his face.
Blue doesn’t do strangled sounds or shock. He rarely looks anything but calm or, occasionally, amused. But right now, his eyes are as wide as I’ve ever seen them. I follow his gaze to the Jumbotron, currently lit up with one of those “fan cam” moments they do between plays.
It’s Charlotte, I realize, a part of me excited to see her pretty face even as a savvier part instantly warns that this is bad.
Very,verybad.
She’s not in the WAG box with the other wives and girlfriends.
She’s out in the concourse and…soaking wet for some reason. Her hair is flat and dripping in the front, her eye makeup is smeared, and her blouse—some thin white fabric—is plastered to her skin.
Plastered, and completely see-through…
I fight the urge to stand up and shout for her to pull the shirt away from her chest. Or for the camera guy to cut away. She looks upset, for fuck’s sake! Like she’s been crying or hurt. Thisis clearly not the time for a “Party Foul” spot. Any idiot with a shred of empathy could see that.
But apparently, the camera guy isn’t blessed with a single fucking shred, and any reaction from me will only add fuel to the fire, a fact Blue confirms by resting a fist on my knee.
I nod, clenching my jaw as I force myself to stay seated.
The frame holds on Char for what feels like an eternity while the arena erupts in a groundswell of laughter, smug male muttering, and a softer undercurrent of concern.
The concerned voices are in the minority. By far. It’s an ugly reminder that humans aren’t always at our kindest in group situations. The tribe can lift you up, but it can rip you apart just as easily.
Finally, the camera cuts away. Thank fuck.
But it’s far too late for Charlotte’s comfort, I’m sure.
It’s certainly too late for mine.
It feels like my entire body has gone cold from the inside out. Not hot. Not the explosive anger I felt when I saw that asshole hitting his wife.
Frozen. Tight. The kind of cold that kills.
I’m calmly, coldly, imagining what I’m going to do to that Jumbotron operator when I get him alone, when Blue’s voice cuts through the static in my head. “She’ll be okay. And if she’s hurt, someone will help her. Arena security is on the ball.”
