“It’s your first time, bud,” I told him with a sarcastic, sweet smile, though I didn’t know how much of it he could see with his Tiago goggles on. “One goal.”
“One goal,” he repeated. He skated backward, and I headed into the crease.
Rolling my neck, I stretched my shoulders, then dropped into a split. A lot of the goalies liked to defend the goal sideways, but that was never my thing. I lowered my shoulders and turned my head to the right, listening for the sound of blades on ice.
The rink was oddly quiet. Not enough to hear a pin drop, but enough that I recognized Tucker’s soft murmur from a fewhundred feet away. They were all watching. Fuck, what was I thinking.
It took me too long to get back in my head, and I nearly missed the first shot, but I caught it with my stick and froze the puck. I heard Tiago say something, and then Alexio swore.
“Nice try,” I called, shooting the puck back.
“Warm-up shot, dickhead.”
I laughed and got back into position. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.”
I heard him suck in a breath, and then silence descended again. The puck came faster this time, leaving the ice for a second. I could hear the ball bearings rattling around inside, and I managed to stop it with my glove, but just barely.
Fuck, he was good.
And I hated that he was good. And yet, it also made me a little warm inside.
I shot the puck back, and this time, he was silent as it hit his stick. I listened to a pair of skates, and again Tiago’s soft murmur—probably giving the fucker tips, which wasn’t going to help. Tiago rarely scored a goal on me.
Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to the left. I knew what was coming. Tiago’s snapshot, though I had no idea if Alexio’s was any good. But I was ready. Seconds ticked by—too fucking many. He was trying to psych me out, but that wasn’t going to work.
I bowed my head, following the sounds of his skates and the puck.
And then it flew toward me—and went between my legs. It took all of my power to drop down in time, and there was a collective inhale before I lifted up to show I’d stopped the puck.
“Fuck!”
I grinned as I shot the puck forward, and then suddenly, there was a body beside me and that goddamn cologne. Something in me shifted, and I had no idea what the feeling was.
“If I found out you and Tiago cheated?—”
“How the fuck would we have done that, you sore-ass loser?” I demanded.
Alexio let out a heavy breath. “Fuck you. I concede.”
I grinned and tapped my stick against his helmet. “Good boy.”
He let out a sharp exhale, and then suddenly, his glove was in the front of my sweater, tugging me forward. “Your prize?”
“You wanna give me money? Your car?”
“You can’t fucking drive,” he snarled.
I laughed. “Technically, I do know how, but I’d donate it to charity.”
“You’re…” He trailed off, then swallowed so thickly I could hear it catch in his throat. “I’ll find you after this.”
“For your car?”
“Not a goddamn chance.” He threw me back, and I hit the goal frame, still laughing as he skated off.
“He really love his car,” Vanya said mournfully. I startled, forgetting he was there. “Is custom-built Land Rover.”
“I don’t even know what the fuck that is.”
Vanya burst into giggles and slung his arm around my neck. “Is stupid SUV. Come, best friend. Let’s go talk to little media girl. She have a lot of questions, and I’m not understanding most.”
