When I stepoff the team bus at Elmwood University’s campus, Maya is talking to her brother near the players’ entrance. She texted me when she got here early with her friends so she could see him before the game.
Donnelly glares at me as I saunter over. It probably has to do with the fact his sister is wearing my jersey. The corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk.
“Hey,” Maya says.
We’ve snuck around so her brother didn’t know, but we’re past that now. If we weren’t, she wouldn’t be wearing my number to his game. The urge to claim her right in front of him crashes over me.
No more hiding this. Not when I want everyone to know she’s mine.
I fist the jersey and pull her in for a kiss. She freezes for a beat, then welcomes it with a little laugh.
“Hi, baby,” I murmur against her lips.
Donnelly crosses his arms and mutters in annoyance under his breath. “I fucking knew it. Can’t believe you’re with him.”
“Ryan,” Maya chides without looking away from me, her gorgeous eyes gleaming brightly. “You’ll just have to get over it.”
My smug expression softens. I give her one more tame kiss.
“Make sure you cheer for me,” I say. “Loud enough that I hear you over everyone else.”
She gives a small shake of her head, the corners of her mouth curled up. “Good luck—both of you,” she adds, cutting off my victorious chuckle. “Don’t give me that look, Easton. I can cheer for my boyfriend and my brother.”
“But more for me, right? You’re wearing my number this time.” I dodge with another laugh when she swats at me. “I guess I’ll just have to score to get your attention.”
Her eyes widen. “Don’t you dare risk a penalty to dedic?—”
“Maya, every goal I score will always be for you.” I cradle her face with one hand, brushing my thumb over her cheek as it turns pink. “Every single one from now until my career ends.”
“I’m not sitting through this sick, sappy shit,” Donnelly grumbles. “I hope you enjoy eating those words when we beat Heston again.”
I don’t take my eyes off my girl. “Nah. I’ve got all the luck on my side tonight.”
“Blake!” Coach Kincaid calls from the doorway. “Let’s go.”
After one last peck to her forehead, I hike my bag higher on my shoulder and head inside. My focus through gearing up and getting ready for the game is honed in on the W.
Not only because that’s the outcome I want for every game, but to get revenge for the loss when we played our first game against them at home.
My team is ready to take Elmwood on and beat them and everyone else in Hockey East out for everything—from our conference title all the way to Frozen Four.
We hit the ice as warriors ready for battle, tapping our gloves together.
“Tonight we come out on top,” I say.
My team responds with competitive enthusiasm that makes me damn proud to be their captain.
Near the end of warm-ups, I glide by Maya’s section, winking at her and her friends. They tease her, pretending to swoon. She laughs and takes photos of the four of them decked out with support for Heston.
I circle around after shooting a few pucks on the net, none of which Reeves lets in. He’s in the zone tonight.
Slowing to a stop at the boards, I touch the glass with a broad smile. Maya mirrors it, looking so damn gorgeous.
She’s always beautiful, but something about seeing her wearing my jersey does me in.
Donnelly breaks the unwritten rule not to cross the red line to interrupt the moment. He checks into my side just light enough the referee nearby won’t call him on it before the game starts.
“Finish warming up,” he mutters as he herds me away.
