“Not funny,” I tell her, pointing my finger in her face.
“A little funny. Now hand me my clothes,” she demands. I love when she gets bossy. Might be the hottest thing I’ve seen her do.
Once we’re dressed, Ellie stands in front of me, her hands locked in front of her. I don’t know why she’s acting shy now. I just fucked her on the kitchen counter.
“One more thing,” she says, a smirk forming on her lips.
My brows narrow. “What?”
“The guy you’re jealous about, he’s gay.”
With that, she walks out of the kitchen, and I listen to her footsteps as she goes up the stairs. I stand there, completely taken aback and kind of in shock.
Gay? Freddie’s gay?
What the actualfuck?
Chapter 29
Jamie
I
t’s been a week. A week since I fucked Ellie on the kitchen counter. A week since I claimed her as mine, and all I can think about is the sound of her moans and the feeling of being inside her.
“I’m yours, Jamie.”
I still don’t know if she was being genuine or if it was just a heat of the moment thing, but I’m letting myself believe she meant it, because if I don’t, I might fall apart.
Who the fuck am I? Fall apart? Over a girl? I don’t do that shit. I don’t let chicks dictate my feelings or distract me from what really matters. Except, Ellie’s not just some chick, and she’s what really matters.
Because if I never get hockey back, at least I’ll have her. Even if I’m not able to play again, Ellie will be there, and she’ll have forgiven me for the shit I put her through. The goal since I got benched has been to rehab, recover, and get back to my team, but I have a new goal now. Get Ellie to be mine. Like, actually mine. Although, it would be nice to get both.
I stare at my watch, the cold chill in the air hitting my cheeks, wondering when this day is going to be over, because the sooner I can get home, the sooner I seeher.
Honestly, watching these guys practice is giving me a migraine, but hopefully that’s all about to change. They’re dragging, as always. Except, it’s not physically. They’re skating hard enough, hitting the drills, and running the plays I’ve drilled into their heads for weeks now. But the edge is still missing. Maybe it’s because they’re not confident. They’ve been losing for so long now, maybe they’ve just flat out given up.
What we need is something that will separate us from the rest of the teams. Something that will make them fear us. The Wolves don’t need to be good. We just need to pull off a miracle. No pressure.
I blow my whistle, the sound echoing off the walls of the rink.
“Again!”
Collective groans roll across the ice.
“If you have enough energy to complain,” I call out, “you’ve got enough energy to run drills.”
Frustration coils tight in my chest, mixing with the steady throb in my knee. I push it down like I always do because the pain doesn’t matter. Whatmatters is getting these guys in shape to win the next game, and I have a little something that might motivate them.
Blowing the whistle one more time, the guys make their way over to me, dripping in sweat and looking exhausted.
“Alright, listen up!” I call. “I’m gonna tell you what I’ve noticed the last several weeks, and you’re gonna listen.”
They straighten, every eye focused on me.
“Number one, you’ve got no team morale, and that’s reflected on the ice. It’s like you’re not communicating with each other at all out there. That has to change, today. Number two, you’re relying on Bergström and Rostolvic to get shit done, when in reality, you should be working as a team. If you’re not connected out there, you’ve already lost. I don’t care if you hate each other. On the ice, you’re a unit. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Coach,” they all say in unison.
