“Damn,” he breathes, the word barely audible. He lets out another soft chuckle, shaking his head. His expression is unreadable, but the curiosity in his eyes is impossible to ignore. “Okay. Iwillsee you again. One way or another.”
“Are you always this arrogant?” I huff, arching an eyebrow.
“Not arrogant, just confident,” he says with a wink before leaving me alone at the table. I can’t help myself as my eyes follow after him as he heads out of the coffee shop. He pausesjust outside the door, his gaze colliding with mine through the glass. A slow, sure smirk lifts his lips before he walks away.
What the hell just happened?
CHAPTER FOUR
MATTEO
“I shouldn’t have been staring at her, but I was merely studying the competition. We were brought together for a collaborative exhibition with the best artists in the world... and I had every intention of beating her.” - Julian Hart, Painted Inferno
“Matty, crash the net!” Shaw yells at me as he takes the lead, skating into our offensive zone. He passes over the blue line and I’m right after him. One of the D-men for the other team blocks him, forcing more space between Shaw and the net as he pushes him closer to the boards.
There’s less than a minute left and we’re tied with the other team, 1-1. Theo managed to sneak a goal past their brick-wall of a goalie early in the second period. We knew this one was going to be a tough game, but we have a chance.
Shaw’s up near the red line, waiting in the corner. The muscles in my legs fire as I push my way toward the crease, turning with the play as I knock my shoulder against one of their defensemen.
“Asshole,” he snaps, bumping into me harder.
The puck moves across the ice, leaving Shaw’s stick. Theo receives the pass, his head on a swivel as he looks for an opportunity for a shot. I’m shoulder to shoulder with the defensemen and he’s trying to tangle up my stick.
I skate half a stride in front of him, the puck sliding back to the point. Cross slaps his stick, calling for the pass. The goalie’s moving along the crease, trying to see past me as I use my body as a screen.
“Get the fuck off,” I bark at the defenseman who’s still fucking with my stick. My eyes are glued to the puck as the guys try to get a scoring chance. “Net, net!”
Shaw fakes their players out, his body shifting as if he’s going to pass the puck, but instead he shoots it at the net. I’m too far to the right of the goalie and somehow, he sees it coming. He slides to the right, catching a piece of the puck with his blocker as he stops it from soaring past him.
It all happens so quickly, although for a moment, it feels like time is suspended. The puck deflects off his pad, coming right at me. I don’t waste the chance to take a shot as it connects with my stick’s blade. My body shifts, the muscles in my arm firing. A quick flick of my wrist as I spin in front of the net sends the puck right past the left side of his torso.
He slides across the ice, but he’s just a fraction of a second too slow.
The horn sounds through the arena. My heart pumps harder, faster at lightning speed. Holy fuck, it finally happened.
“Fuck yes!”
The four other guys on my line skate over, gathering around me as we take a second to celebrate. “It’s about damn time, Ford,” Cross says, laughter wrapping around us as he taps the backs of my legs with his stick.
I lead the way, skating past the bench, giving all my teammates fist bumps before heading back to center ice for thefaceoff. Whenever a line scores, Coach has been keeping those players on the ice to keep the momentum going.
Theo skates to the dot, checking on me, Shaw and the defensive pair on our line, Cross and Vasily Volkov before he gets into position. My knees bend slightly, my hands gripping my stick as I place it on the ice.
“Finally broke your streak, huh, Ford?”
I glance at the winger from the other team who’s lined up with me. A smirk tugs on my lips as I see who it is. “Yeah,” I nod my head, shifting my gaze back to the ice, waiting for the puck to drop. “Thanks to your ex-girlfriend.”
“What the?—”
The puck drops before he gets the last word out. Theo tangles up his stick with their center, pushing his body into him, creating space between them and the puck.
My feet move quickly from muscle memory and I take possession of the puck, dipping past Aiden Scott with a smirk on my face as I head down the ice. We enter their defensive zone and get another shot on goal before the final buzzer sounds.
Scott gives me a smug look, although there’s a hint of curiosity in his expression. I’d be willing to bet he doesn’t even know which ex-girlfriend I’m talking about. Rolling my eyes to myself, I ignore him. I don’t need to instigate anything, not after the game is already over.
I skate over to the net, falling in line behind Theo as we all skate past Gray, tapping the top of his goalie helmet. “Great game, Gray. You played your ass off.”
“So did you, Ford.” He gives me a toothy grin. “We’re fucking back, baby.”
