“More what?” Zayne frowns.
I’m pretty sure Mathéo’s cursing in French under his breath, and that his affection for the prankster slid down a few notches. “Love, you idiot. No one appreciates my language.”
Mason rocks back on his heels. “I thought we were playing darts.”
“This is useless.” I take a step forward, heading for the gap between Elias and Mason, who also showed up for this throw-down because it’s the clearest shot at an escape.
They close ranks on me. The rookie already looks terrified, so I stare Elias down. “You really want to get in my way?”
He doesn’t back down. “We’re trying to help you, bro.”
Luke tugs on my shoulder from behind, forcing me to turn around. “How about this? We have a beer, play some darts, and if you feel like talking, we’ll listen.”
I consider, then give a tight nod. Coach must be more concerned about me than I realized to pull this stunt. So, for the sake of my job, I'd better go along. Or at least try to.
Payton grabs the darts from the board, steps behind the line, and shoots two in the red bullseye and the last in the green outer ring. “Blast. Can’t believe a Texan outshot me.”
The weight in my chest lifts some. They may feel a little too much in my face at the moment, but these guys have my back on the ice, and apparently outside of the arena, too. Maybe I don’t have to figure this thing out on my own.
Snickering, I spin around and face Pay-man. “We’ll always outshoot you…mate.”
I wind up having two beers instead of one, but I figure the activity of throwing darts will help burn off the alcohol more than if we were sitting and talking. Plus, we’re hockey players, sowe have to put some moves into how we throw—that’s part of the challenge.
Funny thing is, keeping my hands busy and my brain distracted made it easier to open up. I have to give Luke kudos for suggesting we come here instead of the Turtle Tide. Every team has a captain, but Luke seems even more vested in us since he reunited with his father. He’s older than most of the other fellas, so it makes sense. I’m the one closest to his age, though.
By the end of our first round of 301—which I won despite Pay-man’s posturing—I’d filled them in on what went down last night with Bree and our kiss—the full rundown.
“Let me get this straight,” Ethan pauses, “you’re back to being best friends…”
“Even though you kissed?” Elias chirps in, finishing Ethan’s sentence.
I think those two have become a team off the ice, too. I’m beginning to understand why Mia calls Elias Ethan’s work wife.
“Yeah.” I thought I made that obvious.
Mason tilts his head at me. “But are you really?”
“What’s your point?” I take a step in his direction, leaving less than two feet between us. I’m a few inches taller than Mason—taller than most of the guys—so staring him down is easy.
He shoots a nervous glance at Luke, who nods at him to continue.
Mason swallows as he returns his attention to me. “Does it feel the same? Like before?”
Talk about a truth gut-punch. I take a step back and rub a hand over my face. Less than twenty-four hours have passed, but the longing, the hunger I have for her is stronger than ever. “It’s worse.”
“You have to find a way to put that aside when we’re on ice, Cowboy.” Compassion fills Payton’s expression.
Or is that commiseration? We all had a front-row seat, watching the Pay-man’s reserved exterior crumble into a love-sick puppy, pining over his bodyguard.
But the implication that I could fail them hits a sensitive spot, like I just got cross-checked by my entire team.
I whirl to face him. “Don’t you think I know that?”
Leaning away, he holds his hands up. “Whoa there, partner.”
He’s trying to defuse my anger—I get that, but it only makes this feel worse. It’s as if all the things that matter the most to me are at risk—my relationship with Bree, my family ranch, and now hockey. I’d avoided a groin pull my entire career, but every hockey player knows our time in this game runs on a clock. I have some great years under my belt, but I’m in the second half of my run. So, I can’t help worrying that this is just the first injury of many to come.
There’s also the situation with my family. I still haven’t told them about Nana wanting to sell our ranch. When I finally worked up the courage to call and ask her why she’d made this decision without talking to us, she told me she didn’t want any of us to give up what we loved doing.
