Thump. Thump! THUMP!
“Oh, baby! What? You wanna call your friend to join us? How about I just ask my neighbor if she’ll join? She’s listening right now.”
I fling the blankets off, stand on my mattress and push the screen aside to poke my head outside. He’s leaning out his own window, his head tilted toward me, a big smile on his full lips and the moonlight twinkling in his mischievous caramel eyes.
“You’re a total shithead!” I can’t help but burst out laughing.
He laughs back. “You should have seen the look on that pretty face of yours!”
“Jerk! Why didn’t you bring Pumps home?”
“Because I knew fooling you would be much more fun!” He laughs again. “Are you sleepy? Have you watched tonight’sWalking Deadyet?”
“No. And no.”
“Come over. Let’s watch it,” he tells me, and winks.
“Okay.” I smile. “But if that girl is really over there and this is a threesome attempt, I will castrate you, Westwood.”
I close my window to the sound of his laughter, grab a sweatshirt and pull it on over my tank and pajama bottoms and head downstairs. Leave it to Avery to put me in a good mood. Jerk.
Chapter 7
Avery
We’ve just finished an offensive drill, which I fucking owned if I do say so myself, and I’m skating across the ice toward the coach when Echolls skates up behind me. “You get off on showing up your teammates?”
“Don’t start today, Beau. Seriously.”
I’m not in a good mood to begin with. The day started with a phone call from my dad, who apparently has decided to stick his nose in my love life, not just my business life. He was nagging me to take Lizzie back. He was so belligerent about it I hung up on him, which I’ve never done before. So I’m not in the mood to deal with Beau Echolls’s ego.
He swings around in front of me and starts skating backward as he glares at me from behind the visor on his helmet. “FYI, Westwood, these are drills not a fucking play-off game. Stop showing off.”
He’s pissed because I just beat him on a drill. Deeked the puck around him like he was a pylon and scored on Furry. He’s sort of right—I don’t need to go all in because not only is this just practice, but it’s also optional practice, so the guys who did show up are taking it easy. But I like to work my aggression out on the ice, and I simply don’t know how to give less than one hundred and ten percent when it comes to hockey. If Echolls had the same work ethic, maybe he wouldn’t have lost the captaincy. But I don’t say that. I bite my tongue like I always do and mutter, “I like to give it my all. Always.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not the fucking Olympics, Golden Boy,” he bitches.
“I know. I’ve made the Olympic team twice and won gold both times,” I bark back, skating closer so I’m up in his stupid fucking face. “But, please, tell me about the Olympics. Enlighten me. When were you on the team, exactly?”
He shoves me. Hard, right in the chest. Then suddenly Alex Larue is between us, his back to me and his fists curled into Echolls’s jersey. “Back the fuck down, Beau. Not fucking kidding.”
“Let him fight his own battles, Rue. Stop being his bitch!”
Alex shakes him roughly. “He’s my captain. His battleismy battle, and if you knew how to play the fucking game, you’d fight his battles, too, instead of being one,bitch.”
Beau flings his gloves to the ground. Then Coach Meisner’s whistle blares and the goalie coach and the assistant coach both step in and pull Beau and Alex away from each other. “Save it for the games, kids,” Meisner shouts. “And your actual opponents. Got it?”
Both of my teammates nod gruffly, and I do too. Coach looks at me and then at Echolls, but he points at Larue. “Rue is right, Echolls. Get on board with your team and your captain. I’m not going to tell you again.”
He turns and motions me over to him as he announces the end of practice. Everyone skates for the tunnel and the locker room. He waits until the last player is off the ice and then levels me with a serious stare. “Can you sort this out?”
“I’ve been trying,” I reply.
He gives me a curt nod. “So can you keep trying, or should I step in? Because if I step in, this won’t end well for Echolls.”
I know that. I know I literally have the power to get that stupid jackass kicked off the team. They’ll either trade him or throw him back down to the minors. Probably the latter, because I honestly don’t see any other team having a lot of interest in him. Beau is a mediocre defenseman who was given an inflated salary when he was made captain, a position he failed at. So, yeah, he’ll be dropped to the minors because no one will pick up his salary, and he’ll probably stay there permanently. I have that power. “Nah. Give me a little more time. I’ll work it out.”
Coach has skepticism all over his gruff face, but he just nods and lets me skate off the ice.
