Except Baymont. They were desperate and needed a captain. Rumor is, Daddy Walton cut them a fat check to make it happen. Coach says not to engage. Says to focus on the fact that we know Aaron’s every move. His tricks. His tells. His weaknesses. Says to play the game but leave it on the ice.
But then this dick winks at me from across the rink, taunting me. And then he flirted withher.
Sam isn’t just wearing a jersey tonight. She’s wearingmine. I picked it. Handed it to her without saying why. Could’ve grabbed any number, but I didn’t. I wanted her in my name. Wanted it loud, visible, and branded on her back like a warning.
He saw that.
And he still had the balls to make a move on her in my rink, in my house. It was for me, the flirting and cocky glances, the dirty way he let his eyes drag over her.
He doesn’t want her.
He wantsmerattled.
And it’s working.Why is it fucking working?I shouldn’t care, but I do. More than I want to admit. This jersey was just a way to claim her, show the other team who she belongs to. Nothing more. Yet seeing Aaron talking to her lit something ablaze inside me. A fire I can’t fucking put out.
I was supposed to meet up with Kenzie last night, something easy with no strings. A sure thing to take the edge off. But she quickly became an afterthought when I walked in and saw Sam. Half-dressed, her perfect tits just there for me to devour. Then my fingers were inside her, her moans stuck under my skin, her scent clinging to me. I can still feel the heat of her thighs tightening around my wrist. Still hear the way she gasped like it wasn’t supposed to happen, but sheneededit anyway.
And now I can’t fucking shake it. And this asshole just threw gasoline on the entire goddamn thing. He saw my name and knew that circling her like a damn vulture would get under my skin.
So sorry, Coach. Going up against him tonight is going to be bittersweet. And when I make him my bitch on that ice, it’s probably going to be better than sex.
I shift on the bench, unfisting my gloved hands and unlocking my elbows. Kane is next to me, rolling his shoulders as if he’s already skating laps in his head. Mountain cracks his neck loud enough to make a freshman flinch. Everyone’s hungry.
The buzzer sounds, and the ref skates out.
Kane taps his stick twice against the boards. “Let’s go.”
I’m the last to stand, and when I do, I slap my helmet on and strap it into place.
We hit the ice. The crowd explodes around us, shaking the boards. Every stomp reverberates through my chest. Lights cut across the rink, cameras flash.
I lower my head and skate fast, slicking through the ice, the cold stinging my cheeks. My blades bite hard, carving lines into the fresh sheet as we circle the center. I glance into the stands, my eyes locking on my father’s. He’s sitting there, all snarl and stillness, arms folded across his chest, his jaw locked. No clapping like the rest. No standing in excitement. He just watches with that same look he always gives me—measured and unimpressed.
Dad doesn’t nod nor blink. Doesn’t acknowledge me at all. It’s like I’m a ghost in his arena. My stomach twists, but determination bites at my flesh. This is my last chance to step up and make him see me. Tonight, winning is the only option.
The whistle blows, and I snap my head back to center ice. Aaron skates close, huddling beside me.
“Sure you can focus tonight?” He smirks.
I ignore him. My fist tightens around my stick.
“With an ass like that, I know I wouldn’t be able to,” he continues, his gaze shifting past me to the bench.
Inadvertently, I follow his line of sight. Sam’s there, her back to us, as she places a stack of clean towels on the bench.
“And that mouthpiece on her. Feisty. I like her. Better keep her close.”
Still, I don’t bite back. I won’t give him the satisfaction.Keep in it on the iceis all that replays in my head.
“Bet she likes to be choked, too. You ever try it? You should. She looks like she’d love being pinned down.”
Blood rushes to my ears. Hot and violent. He skates backward now, smirking as he eases into face-off position across from Kane.
“Think about it,” he continues loud enough for the others to hear, then smirks.
Kane gives me a quick side glance, and I know it’s his way of checking if I need to be reeled in. I don’t move. Instead, I lock in.
Game on, motherfucker.
