He moves on to someone else, and I stay put as I wait to get back out onto the ice. Unfortunately, the period ends and theteam storms back into the room. The Angels managed to score another point while I was down here, and they’re now leading by a point.
We’re going to need to hustle hard to win tonight. The Angels need to be reminded of why cougars enjoy playing catch and release with their prey. We are by no means done yet.
Our area is full of exercise and physical therapy, as well as the ice tubs. This team has a lot of money funding it, and it allows us to have all the bells and whistles for ourselves.
We play hard for the privilege, but none of us mind. We all have the fire in our veins to win.
“Sorry man, they yanked you before we could react,” Olsson groans, checking out the cut on my face.
“It’s nothing,” I say with a shrug. “I think I’ll be good to go back out.”
“That’s up to the doctor,” Coach grunts as he faces us. “The Angels are obviously trying to divide us up. They don’t know us all that well though. Koen still got rid of the puck, allowing us to score. Let’s cover him better, okay?”
Everyone nods while I shrug. I know it wasn’t personal, and the Angels moved fast. Coming after me would have affected our team sinking the puck past Rhodes. I still don’t understand how Rhodes let that past him, but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
Our break ends in what feels like a blink of an eye, and the doctor clears me to head back out onto the ice. I’m pissed off about getting singled out, and I let out a war yell as I join my teammates for the last period.
“Let’s go!” Olsson yells, right on my ass as we skate.
I don’t hold grudges about shit that goes down while playing, especially when my team is so protective.
I slam into the Angels, fighting for the puck and growling when I’m side-stepped. Still, we are all on Skylar as he beginsto bombard our goalie with shots. Coleman works his ass off to keep him out, and I knock the puck away with an internal sigh of relief.
“You don’t suck,” Skylar says, his words trailing over me as if the pads and clothing covering me don’t exist.
Shaking off his words that feel like they’re more than they are, I trade out my spot on the ice with someone else, my eyes eating up every move made.
“It’ll be close,” Coach breathes. “We’re fighting hard. Catch your breath, Koen.”
My gaze is pulled toward Rhodes as he skates in circles and fucks up the ice in his crease. His eyes are on the game, but it also makes me wonder what he thinks about when he’s in his groove. While I wait on the bench, I tend to bob my head to music only I can hear. It keeps me hyped and focused.
I’m tapped back into the game, and I assist one more goal, tying us up with about a minute left on the clock. Anything can fucking happen.
So when the Angels come thundering down the ice, I pick a fight. I make sure to get underfoot and shove my stick out to trip people as my blade cradles the biscuit. My eyes move to find someone to send it to, and I make eye contact with my choice, despite being shoved.
My shot is short, but there’s someone on our team to get it to Bruner just before I’m shoved into the boards.
“You’ve all been coming for my ass all night,” I tease the Angels, ducking quickly. The player’s fist misses me, but his teammate does not.
I’m going to be really fucking sore tonight. I give it everything I have as I fight back, and gloves go flying as the referees ignore us. It’s when I hear the siren go off again that I begin to laugh.
“You need to beat me so badly you can’t support your team?” I tease them. “It looks like the Cougars are in the lead again, dickweeds.”
“For Christ sakes,” a growl says. Skylar rips his teammates away from me before he shoves me out of the Koen shaped hole I’ve made for myself. “Get your heads back in the game!”
“I mean, I just said that,” I say cheerfully, grinning at him.
Skylar stares at me for a second before he inhales deeply. “You’re going to be a pain in my ass, aren’t you?”
“The game is over,” I laugh. “I think you’re safe.”
“Doubtful,” he complains, watching as I skate away to congratulate my team.
I don’t know why he’s so grumpy with me. His team is the one who threw the game so they could fuck with the omega. I’m just over here minding my own business.
“I’m buying you a drink,” Olsson says, shaking his head as I pull off my helmet. “You’re going to need it once the endorphins of being a crazy asshole wear off.”
“I won’t say no,” I chuckle, heading toward the locker room.
