Prologue
Sebastian
There’s no way we can lose now. With only sixty seconds left in the game, the San Diego Saints need three goals just to tie it. Not going to happen. Their captain, Beau Echolls, gives me a hard shove when no one is looking.
“Stop touching me. No matter how hard you try, my greatness won’t rub off on you,” I taunt and give him my most annoying, cocky grin.
He scowls at me. His eyes narrow and his lip snarls. “Fuck off, Deveau. You fucking suck.”
“More goals than any other defenseman in the league this year,” I brag, leaning forward and tightening my grip on my stick as the ref holds the puck over the face-off circle. “You’ve scored how many goals this year? I’ve lost count. Is it one or two?”
The ref drops the puck, but I don’t have a chance to get into the play before Echolls cross-checks me, hard. Beau is a big boy—six foot four and probably over two hundred pounds. The slam of his stick across my back sends me face-first into the ice.
The pain through my shoulders is blinding for a second, but rage soon takes over, and it’s all I see as I jump up. My gloves are off before I’m fully upright, and as I skate toward him he’s flinging his own gloves across the ice. I’m expecting the linesmen and the ref to grab both of us, but the game has been getting more and more aggressive with every period, and they’re done putting out fires. I hear the ref call out, “Let ’em go!” and it’s on.
The fight is brief. We’re yanking on each other’s jerseys and spinning around, and then Echolls swings twice and misses both times. I swing three times and land two—an uppercut and a haymaker that knocks the asshat flat on his back. The crowd, because we’re in San Diego, is mostly booing the crap out of me, and I could not care less.
As the ref peels me off Echolls and skates me toward the penalty box, I lift my arms and grin at the crowd. I fucking love that. It’s why I chose to play defense and why I also choose to be an enforcer on the ice. I live to get under the skin of the other team and their fans. It’s a rush like nothing else.
We pass Jordan, who’s laughing in delight at me. “Gordie Howe hat trick. Nice job, Deveau.”
I grin as I realize he’s right. Tonight I scored a goal, got an assist, and now a fight, all in one game. The ref gives me a little shove toward the tunnel. “Only ten seconds left, just go to the room.”
“Yes, sir.” I grin, and he shakes his head and skates away.
I get a few pats on the back from my teammates as I pass the bench, exit the ice and head to the locker room. Feeling much better now. That fight drained the frustration I was feeling over the uncomfortable conversation I’d had with my ex-girlfriend earlier today. We’d broken up the day before I left on this road trip after dating for about two months.
In the last couple of weeks things had changed with us. Andie started getting too possessive. She wanted to hang out every single free minute I had and would get angry when I wanted to stay home alone or go out with just the guys. She insisted I call her three times a day from road trips. Three times. When we were in Montreal and Toronto last week I called her only once one day, and she woke me up at four in the freaking morning and started ranting at me, telling me I was selfish and that if we were going to be serious about this relationship I needed to respect her needs. As soon as I got home I explained to her that my needs weren’t the same as hers and that we’d be better off going our separate ways.
Another one bites the dust.
I walk into the empty locker room and start to peel out of my equipment. My left wrist is throbbing a little bit from the punches I landed, but I try to ignore it and bend to untie my skates. As I tie a towel around my waist the rest of the team filters in.
Alex Larue tosses a glove at me. “Wanna grab a celebratory drink?”
“Pas ce soir.”I shake my head and tell him no in French before explaining in English. “It’s been a long week, and we have an early flight tomorrow.”
Alex looks around the locker room. “Jordy? Chooch? Avery?”
They all shake their heads no. Alex looks like we just ran over his cat. “You guys and your monogamy are killing me!”
“Actually,” I say and adjust my towel, “Andie and I broke up.”
That gets everyone’s attention. They all turn to me with varying looks of sympathy.
“Sorry, buddy,” Jordan tells me quietly. Heshouldfeel sorry for me; he’s the reason I started looking for something serious. Last year Jordan got back together with his high school love, Jessie. They have this crazy kind of attraction and admiration for each other that made me start wanting more than my usual fun but superficial one-night stands.
“You wanna go out after a home game, I’m there,” I tell Alex. “But there’s no point to hookups after away games. It won’t lead to anything.”
“Come on,” Alex moans as we walk to the showers. “You have to admit the free and easy hookups are fun. Andeasy.”
I hang my towel on a hook and turn on the water. “There is more to life than easy pussy, Alex.”
“You know that’s your problem, right?” Avery interrupts, his eyes are serious. “You want a serious relationship with someone you meet in a meaningless hookup.”
“What are you talking about?”
“How did you meet Andie again?” Avery asks.
