Leo clears his throat. “I don’t have a girlfriend, so I can’t speak about that, but that piece of shit deserves to get his head bashed in for what he did to Briar.”
“Thanks, guys.”
Nick reaches over and pats my shoulder. “If you decide to go after him during the game, we’ve got your back.”
“You guys don’t need to get involved. It’s my ass on the line. I don’t want you getting in trouble too.”
“Fuck that,” Travis says. “We’re your teammates.”
“Yeah. We’re behind you one hundred percent,” Leo says.
My chest tightens with emotion. These guys aren’t just my teammates. They’re my friends. For the past four years, we’ve been there for each other through all sorts of shit. Tough losses, school stress, family stress, getting drafted. They’ve seen me at my best and worst.
And they’re standing by me, no matter what.
I look at all of them. “Thanks, guys.”
* * *
When I hit the ice for warmups before our game against Chicago U, I’m tense as fuck.
This restless, caged-animal energy courses through me. I want to punch a hole through the boards.
I breathe through the rage simmering through my veins and go through my stretches on the ice. I’m in the middle of my routine when I glance into the stands and see Briar.
When I see what she’s wearing, I still.
Oh, damn.
She’s wearing my jersey.
That tension inside of me fades instantly. A warm, happy feeling swoops through me.
I skate over to her, the biggest grin on my face.
“Holy fuck,” I mutter. I clear my throat. “I mean, nice jersey.”
She giggles. “You like my surprise?”
I nod. “Spin around for me.”
She turns and pulls her ponytail over her shoulder. Raw want surges through me.
Morrissey. Number 8.
That’s my girl wearing my name and my number on her body.
A small voice in the back of my head reminds me that she’s not really mine. We’re not dating. We’re not a couple. She’s just my friend.
But in this moment, I don’t care about any of that. In this moment, she feels like mine.
She looks at me over her shoulder, biting back a cute smile.
“So hot,” I say. “I want you to wear this every time you watch me play, okay?”
She beams. “Okay.”
And I want you to be my girlfriend.
