Page 52 of Her Player

“Goddamn it, you’re adorable,” he whispered against my lips when our lungs forced us to come up for air.

I panted as his forehead fell to mine. “I’m feeling pasta, how about you?”

He nuzzled his nose against mine before planting one more chaste kiss to my lips. “Anything for you.”

I almost hated the fact that we had to exit that locker room and head back out into the real world.

18

RHETT

Friday night. The big game. Our hockey showdown against the only other undefeated team in our division. The Detroit Pirates were fucking rockstars. They had a multitude of championships underneath their belt, which was more than what we could say for ourselves. The stadium was packed. Even in the locker room, the dull roar of the sold-out stadium seats penetrated through the cinderblock walls. The bar across the street already ran out of the food that they donated to the games. The new drink stations that Victoria had put in were already struggling with the amount of people buying and refilling them.

It was a madhouse.

I fucking loved it.

“All right, team, listen up,” Coach’s voice echoed over our heads. “This is the game. It may not be our season-ender game, but this game will be the game that knocks one of us out of the running for the championship division title game. Canada’s team won their game last night, which means we have to bring the heat. Not just to win this game, but to show the Canadian Dynamites that we are coming for them, come hell or high water.”

Coach scanned the locker room, looking at all of us before he continued.

“I don’t want you to focus on that, though,” he finally said, shocking all of us. “What I want you to focus on is that crowd. Their cheering. Their applause. Because damn it, boys, we did it. We did the one thing no one thought we’d be able to do. We ran an undefeated season, with absolutely no hiccups, pieced together with what people believe are nothing more than leftovers.”

I knew he was talking about himself, and it boiled my blood.

I wanted to check someone into the wall just for making Coach feel that way.

“We know the media is breathing down our throats,” he said, his voice growing louder, indicating the end of his speech. “We know what they want. They want to see us lose. They want to see us fall. They want to see us come tumbling down.” He grinned before he bellowed. “So let’s give those fuckers a goddamn show, boys! Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s gooooo!”

He clapped his hands as the guys erupted into applause. We slammed our helmets against the locker doors. Some stomped their feet onto the floor. Others let loose whistles and claps of their own.

Me?

I sat there, staring at the floor between my blades, focusing on where we had to step next.

Jett and I studied plays day in and day out. Not just the plays Coach wanted us to drill, either. We watched plays of the Pirates, and they were dirty fucking players. I knew they’d go straight for Moose and Jett at the drop of a hat. They had a pattern of taking out everyone around the center before gunning for the main man. And when I looked up, I saw Jett staring at me.

I knew what he was thinking.

Stay alert. Stay solid. Stay vigilant.

Coach led us out of the locker room. But instead of making our way to the ice, we made our way to a side hallway. He had a shit-eating grin on his face, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.

That was until I heard a booming announcer’s voice kick on.

“LET’S MAKE SOME NOOOOOIIIIISE!”

The crowd went wild, cheering so hard that it became deafening, and I saw Coach’s smile grow. Some of the guys gasped and snickered. Others even chuckled. And when I turned my eyes toward the ice, I realized why.

I watched as the Detroit Pirates were introduced one by one by the announcer over a speaker system I didn’t even realize Victoria replaced.

Man, that guy’s voice was fucking crisp.

Detroit Pirate after Detroit Pirate charged out onto the ice once their names were called. Fire escaped from devices on the ice I’d never once seen before at Caldwell Arena, and the fire tunnel ushered every single Pirate onto the ice and onto the bench. There were people off to the side utilizing cannon guns to shoot jerseys into the stands.

Jerseys that matched the number and name of the person being announced.

“AND NOOOOOW! FOR YOUR HOME TEAM! GIVE IT UP FOR THE LAS VEGAS VIPEEEEERS!”