Accidentally Checked By My Brother’s Best Friend (Accidentally In Sports #3)

6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Duncan

The crowd is pouring in for tonight’s season opener against the Blackhawks, one of our division rivals. It’s bound to be a great game if I can get my head on straight. My attention should be on the ice; instead, it’s on the three people I know who are coming.

So far, I’ve let three practice shots get past me. With the way I’m doing my job, the Blackhawks will make me look like a rookie. The problem is that only half of my attention is on the ice and the other on the bleachers. I keep glancing up at their section, only to find empty seats.

Seeing Ava yesterday messed with my head, and my ability to be present has evaporated. Thoughts of her have taken possession of every crevice of my mind. Regardless of my technique, I can’t get into the zone.

“James! I thought you were supposed to guard the basket?” I look up and see Davidson skating toward me, his blue eyes full of concern. “Denier, you okay?”

I grunt at him, but he doesn’t leave. This is what makes Viper a good captain. He doesn’t let something go unaddressed. It’s only when I’m the one with the problem that needs addressing that I hate his dedication to the title.

Coming closer to the net, he lowers his voice. “I know something is going on, but I can’t put a finger on it. I also know you’re not going to talk about it. But for this second and the next sixty minutes, concentrate on keeping the biscuit out of the net.”

My eyes harden, and I nod. Davidson smacks me on the side of my helmet and heads back into rotation with my other teammates.

Quieting my mind, I tune in to blades slashing the ice—the sound of sticks slapping the biscuit. Nothing gets in my basket for the remainder of warm-up. Following the guys off the ice and into the locker room, I glance up toward the bleachers.

Catching a glimpse of David and Scarlett, I lift my stick in acknowledgment. I don’t look closer because I need to keep my head in the game. Seeing Ava will have the exact opposite effect, and she’s already taken up too much space in my thoughts as it is. I can’t afford to be distracted tonight.

“James.” I look up to see Coach waving me into his office, and I groan. The last time I was ‘talked’ to by my captain and coach, I was in grade school. I grab my sports bottle, take a swig, and head to Coach’s office.

“Coach?” Standing in the doorway, I wait for instruction.

“Come in and sit. Close the door behind you,” he says, looking at a piece of paper before him.

Clenching my jaw, I do as he asks, sitting in the chair across from his desk. Still not looking up at me, my stomach knots, and I feel my fist grip my hockey stick.

When he’s done writing, he puts his pen down and flips his gaze to me. I see the same look that Viper gave me earlier. “Want to talk to me about what’s going on?”

My lips draw into a thin line. I’m reining in the urge to snap at everyone asking me what’s wrong. Ava is wrong, and no one can fix it.

Instead, I take a deep breath, run my hand through my hair, and say evasively. “Everything’s fine. I’ve just had a few rough days.”

“We all have rough days,” he says, leaning forward on his desk as if trying to figure out what I’m not telling him. “But when it starts affecting my players’ game, I must address it. We have high expectations for you…”

He trails off mid-sentence, leans his elbows on his desk, and rests his chin on his entwined hands, pinning me with his gaze.

Feeling like a teenager, I work so as not to squirm in my seat.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” His eyes soften and I feel the knot in my stomach loosen.

One of the reasons I was happy to be traded to the Wolverines was their entire organization, especially the coaching staff. To them, you’re a person first and a player second. But having this concern directed at me is making my insides twitch. I’m used to handling things alone.

Ava is throwing me off, and it’s affecting my game. Who am I kidding? It’s affecting everything, and now it’s affecting my game, which means my team.

I nod and swallow hard. “Yes. There’s just nothing to talk about.”

His gaze nails me one last time before he responds. “Okay.” From his tone, I have no doubt he knows I’m not being honest with him or myself.

Standing up, I turn toward the door, but his next words stop me dead in my tracks. Sucker punching me. “If that’s the case, I’ll need to go by your game play. If this keeps up, I may need to bench you.”

Not turning back to face him, I close my eyes and nod, letting him know I heard what he said. It’s fair. I get paid to do my job, and my job is to keep the net empty. If I can’t do that, I deserve to be benched.

Opening the door, I walk to my locker, getting my gear in order. I adjust my pads and pull on my gloves.

Coach walks to the exit, and the team gets up to follow. It’s time to do what we get paid for.

All I have to do is find a way to have tunnel vision, protect the net, and keep the other team from scoring. Lastly, I need to push Ava as far from my mind as possible for the next sixty minutes.

If possible, longer.

Entering the third period, it’s a tie game. The match has been a real barnburner—lots of back and forth and fast play. Division games are always challenging, but the Blackhawks are last year’s division champs, and they’re giving us a run for our money.

Overall, I’m doing what needs to be done, but Ty Matthews, the Blackhawks’ center, is the third-top scorer in the NHL. The fact that the score is tied is a testament to the talent of both teams.

A whistle blows as the Blackhawks call a timeout right before a commercial break. When the Kiss Cam music starts playing, Coach calls us to the bench.

Coach’s voice is barely audible over the fans oohing, ahhing, or clapping when someone gets caught on the Jumbotron. Pretty routine for this activity. When the oohs and ahhs shift to loud murmuring, I can’t help but glance up at the screen.

Staring back at me is Ava. She has always been breathtaking, and tonight is no different. Seeing her bright smile as she waves to the crowd, my breath catches. My heart starts to race, and a heat spreads throughout my body.

“James!” I whip my gaze to coach only to find brows furrowed. “Are you good? We need you for the next ten minutes.”

“I’m good, Coach.” He stares at me briefly before sending the team back on the ice.

“Ava Norris is in the crowd! Think she’ll stop by the locker room after the game?” Pretty Boy Wallace asks as he skates past me into position. The glare I give him makes him smirk. “Think I found what Denier’s problem is.”

“She’s my brother’s wife’s sister,” I growl at him.

“Then you won’t mind me making a move.” Wallace snickers. “She’s pretty hot.”

Red blurs my vision. There is no way that Wallace is doing anything with Ava. As I move my body forward, Spencer grabs the back of my jersey and stops me.

“Pull it together, Denier!” Spencer yells, shoving me back. “Ten. More. Minutes.”

Meeting his stare, I take a deep breath and give him a stiff nod. Positioning myself in front of the net, I stare at Thompson’s back and wait for the faceoff.

Ten minutes later, the Wolverines pull off the win by one. I did my job and kept my head in the game.

Before heading toward the locker room, I skate by David and Scarlett. I do it every game for my goddaughter, and I’m not skipping it tonight just because Ava is with them.

I see Scar’s palm pressed against the glass when I get close to their seats. I move closer to tap the glass with my fist. Ava is right behind her, smiling and clapping. My heart stutters. Her being at a game, cheering for me, has been a dream I gave up on when I started my NHL career.

Quickly turning away, I skate to the locker room. Only to come face to face with my teammates taunting me about Ava and my reaction to her on the Jumbotron.

“So,” Wallace shouts at me when I walk through the door. “You gonna introduce me to Ava? I hear she’s single.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw, but I don’t do anything except continue to my locker and get out of my uniform.

“I don’t need your help, Denier. I can get an introduction for myself.” Wallace scoffs.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not her type,” I throw over my shoulder, jaw clenched. “She likes men with substance.”

The laughter that rings out in the locker room has Levi mumbling on his way to the shower.

“Ava Norris, huh?” Thompson says quietly from behind me. “Everything makes sense now.”

“What makes sense?” I ask, keeping my voice calm and collected. It’s better if no one knows about my feelings for Ava. Things are already messy without the details.

“Your odd behavior on the plane last week and being off this past week with practices. Distracted, more irritable than usual. Your sloppy play.”

“I’m not more irritable than usual,” I growl at him. I can’t deny or defend anything else. It’s true.

“If you say so.” He slaps me on the shoulder and walks backward toward the shower. “But I’m here if you need an ear.”

“I don’t need an ear,” I grumble, then whisper. “I need a heart specialist.”