Nix rubbed the back of his neck and said, “I hate them.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”
He blinked at me, a slow kitty kiss, and the noise blurred into the background. A moment later, I realized I’d caught my lip under my teeth.
I looked away. “See you on the ice. Watch out because I might kick your ass.”
He grinned. “Not if I get you first.”
The boys laughed again, louder than ever, and it was official: I wanted to die.
22/
nico
The cold airbit my lungs. Warrior Arena was packed with twenty thousand fans, and the noise engulfed me. The TV lights were too bright, and the ice was so clean it looked artificial. My body was on high alert, exactly how it should be before puck drop.
It wasn’t long until the announcer called out the Warriors’ starting lineup, which would be their second line. Pack’s line. After the anthem, I took my position opposite Holcomb for the faceoff. The ref stepped up, then hesitated and waved Holcomb out. Grinning, he motioned for Pack to take Holky’s place.
Fuck the ref. When they’re in on something, you can’t win.
Pack glided in, set his stick, and looked down. I did the same, because if I didn’t focus, I’d embarrass myself on national TV.
The puck hit the ice, and I was half a second too slow. Pack snapped it to Holcomb, who sent it right back.
As Pack started moving, I caught a glimpse of his very fine ass. I hesitated, then turned in time to see him streak over the blue line. He weaved through traffic, burned Grant, and jinked around Castillo. Kai skated out to cut Pack’s angle, but it was too late. Pack buried it top shelf.
Pack’s linemates swarmed him, but through the chaos, his eyes found mine. He shot me a grin I’d known since college, an unmistakable challenge to keep up. My stomach flipped.
Great. I’ve officially become the idiot who got scored on because I was busy fantasizing about my… what? Sexy former enemy? Hot-as-hell friend?
Coach Murphy signaled for a change, and I coasted to the visitors’ bench, pretending to adjust my gloves so I wouldn’t have to look at anyone. Dropping beside Theo, I kept my gaze down.
He leaned in. “Get your head in the game, Rosco. Think about your boyfriend later.”
Yeah. Working on it.
The first intermission was a brutal chirp attack.
“I could’ve used your help,” Kai said. “Thought you’d be better at catching Packy’s ass.”
“Yeah,” someone yelled from across the room. “You could’ve bumped him from behind. Bet you’d have felt that ping through your cup.”
Jace dropped into his dude-bro voice. “Paquette wasn’t interested. He wanted to score on you. Make you mad enough to pin him down later and score on him.”
I raised my middle finger. “Fuck. Off.”
Noah hooked an arm around my shoulders. “Play hockey now. Bang your boyfriend later.”
“Appreciate the strategy tip,” I said, shrugging him off.
When the second period started, I felt like a different player. We trapped the Warriors in their zone and ran a beauty of a keep-away game. Blanton glued himself to me and did all he could to block my view and drive me nuts with his nonstop chirping. Finally, one of his teammates shouted, distracting him long enough for Parker to thread me a pass. I snapped the puck into the net.
My linemates cheered, but our celly was cut short when the Warriors started yelling about goaltender interference. While the zebras reviewed the play, I went to the bench and grabbed a tablet. The play looked clean. Jace had been close to the crease but not in it.
Too bad the hockey gods weren’t on our side. The ref skated to the mic and announced, “Goaltender interference. No goal.”
The crowd went wild, of course, but it was a bad call. I slammed my stick against the boards and swore into my glove.
