16
maverick
“Lock. Load. Explode, baby!”I cock my stick, pretending to fire it as I round the net after scoring the third goal of the game.
The Hawthorne Eagles are notorious for winning games by provoking and getting half of their opponents ejected. I’ve fallen victim to their bullshit before. Last year, one of their players laid Noah out cold from behind and I should have let it go. He would have gotten his justice either way, but one minute, I saw Noah, and the next, I saw red. Getting justice wasn’t enough, he deserved to have his ass handed to him, too. I gave him the ol’ Russ Tyler:Stick. Gloves. Shirt.Unfortunately, it was the upper cut I followed it up with that landed me a meeting with the dean. So, unfortunately, no matter how badly I want to rub some of these players' faces in the ice, I can’t. The thought even occurring to me puts me in dangerous territory. I shake it off, forcing myself to focus on the remainder of the game.
Anything can happen in three minutes of playtime, but with Evan in goal and Silas Miller, the number one defender in the league, we’re looking at another dub tonight.
Noah sets up on the dot for the draw against their captain. I take my spot beside him, shoulder tight against number seventeen. He’s crowding me, breath coming out hot and heavy through his cage.
“Bro, you’re gassed.” I laugh. “What do you got running through those veins? Hotdog water?”
His answer is a mix between a grunt and a shove, and I catch the ref’s arm twitch, like he’s thinking about calling it. I let out a low cocky laugh, but before he can get the whistle to his mouth, Noah has won the puck drop.
I’m already moving, instinct pulling me down the ice. We’ve been doing this together for so long, I already know exactly where he’s going to send it. Our eyes meet for half a second before he sends the puck flying across the ice. It lands clean on my stick, and without hesitation, I send it—top shelf, glove side. The buzzers blare the second the puck hits the ice, and the roar of the home crowd vibrates down to my knees.
The win sticks with me down the tunnel, through the locker room, and all the way until the hot water hits my shoulders. There hasn’t been a post practice or game shower that I’ve been able to rinse off without thinking about Chloe the day she stormed in here. I’ve had to shower quicker than usual since then, or risk getting a boner while replaying the image of her watching me rub myself down.
Wrapping the towel around my waist, I file in beside my other teammates as Coach enters the locker room.
“A four-to-one win is a feat, boys. You showed up, put your heads down, got to work, and delivered the win. You should be proud. Get some rest tonight. We’ve got a grueling week ahead if you want to earn that four-day weekend coming up.” Coach taps his clipboard then heads to his office.
“Rowdy’s tonight?” I ask, slinging an arm over Noah.
“You’re like a Build-A-Bear with one saying, you know that?”
“You’ve thought about my voice in one of those things, haven’t you?” I smile as he shoves me off him, and I move to my locker, pulling out a clean shirt.
“I’m taking Savvy and my mom out to dinner tonight. Ivy’s in town.”
I look over my shoulder, blowing a kiss to Silas at the mention of Noah’s older sister. A tiny grin flickers across his face before he shakes his head. The guy’s all tattoos and thick muscles, but for as show-stopping as he looks, he’s way quieter than you would expect. So quiet, in fact, no one knows how he scored with Ivy when Noah’s family came for a visit freshman year.
“Milly, you down for Rowdy’s?”
“I can’t tonight. I’m heading home for the weekend. My dad wants me to check out a property with him.”
“You guys suck.”
Someone kills the music, and the locker room thins out as the rest of the guys shoulder their bags and head out.
“Alright, later, boys.” Noah fist bumps Silas.
“Hold up. I’ll walk out with you.”
I push open the double doors, only to stop dead when I spot Chloe with her face tilted to the ceiling, and the sweet sounds of her laughter ringing out down the hall.
She never dresses weather-appropriately, but I can’t complain about it. If she were dressed for a late fall night at an ice rink, she wouldn’t be wearing another one of her cropped tees. This one has a little cowboy boot with the wordsAster Meadowin an arch over the top. The place sounds familiar, but when I catch a glimpse of her pebbled nipples through the thin fabric, I don’t bother trying to remember where I know the name from.
Savannah smiles as we approach but she only has eyes for Noah. He takes one last step, scooping her up in his arms, and she drags her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, as he kisses her senseless.
Chloe and I stand beside our respective friends, but with much more space between us.
“Ready for dinner?” Noah asks without letting go of his girl.
She nods before turning to Chloe, who waves her off, holding up her car keys. They exchange a quick hug, and Noah drapes his arm over Savannah as they head out the backdoor.
I turn my attention on Chloe, who twists the blue scrunchie around her wrist, and then leans her back against the wall, staring at me.
