Revenge Puck (Shot at Love #1)

Chapter 35

35

Preston

T he Warhawks are one game away from winning the championship trophy. Unfortunately, that game has to be played in the Bobcats’ home arena and not our own.

We won the first two games in Greensboro, so I know we can do it again.

For some reason though, this game day feels different. It’s not just because I’m still reeling from the confrontation with Riley, followed by the argument with Elle, either.

There’s so much riding on tonight that you can practically see the nerves on every single player’s face. It’s in the way shots go just a little too wide during warm-ups, when they would’ve sailed into the goal yesterday.

The pressure is getting to us all to pull off the win today and clinch the championship.

If we don’t, we’ll be back on the road and in D.C. for game six the day after tomorrow.

I’m trying my best to get focused during warm-ups, to forget about everything but playing my best when Riley starts circling me like a vulture.

“Hey, Pres. How’s my girl doing? She coming tonight?”

I ignore the asshole, pretend like he doesn’t exist, just like I did in the last game.

“She can’t resist me,” he calls out. “You both know it. It’s only a matter of time before she’s back in my bed, begging me to take her harder, faster. You know how she gets. Oh, no. I guess not since she’s faking it all with you and you’ve never had her.”

Fuck.

The roaring in my head drowns out everything in the arena, as well as weakening my restraint to not take his bait.

“She admitted that you two are just pretending,” Christian shouts loud enough for all our teammates to hear. “That photo of you kissing? You did it just to stir shit up before the first game. It’s all a lie to try to hurt me, to turn her against me, just like you did with Maya!”

That’s it. I throw my stick down and skate toward him. “Keep my sister’s name out of your goddamn mouth!”

Before I can plow into the asshole, Vincent gets between us, keeping me back. “Don’t lose your head now, Lawrence. He’s trying to get you to screw up,” the goalie tells me.

“I hate that son of a bitch!” I yell as he pushes me back to the other side of the ice while Christian cackles behind him.

“Then smash his ass into the boards when the game starts. But remember what’s on the line.”

“Yeah, I remember. I can never forget,” I tell him. Maya and Finley are depending on me to keep my cool, to win the championship, or at least finish it without fucking up and losing the offer from the Grizzlies.

Nothing is more important to me than they are.

And Elle.

The longer I wait to tell her about California, the more it feels like a festering open wound in my chest, spreading every second and getting infected.

It’s impossible to stop thinking about it, that this trip to Greensboro could be the last time I see Elle if she refuses to give long-distance a chance.

If Riley keeps pursuing her, she may even cave eventually. After all, he lives right here in her town and won’t be going anywhere for several years.

Hell, if anyone could make that prick settle down, it would be her.

The two of them could live happily ever after while I live alone and miserable on the opposite coast.

It just gives me one more reason to hate that asshole.

Elle

The score is two to one, the Bobcats in the lead during the second period. There’s been a lot of shoving and hard hits by both sides the whole game. It’s like the Bobcats are giving it their all and the Warhawks are just…angry.

Or maybe that’s just Preston.

Preston who comes onto the ice and goes charging straight toward Christian.

“Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no,” I chant over and over as I watch. The two get in each other’s faces, pushing and running their mouths. Somehow, I just know this is it, Preston has snapped. All that cool and calm he felt in the first four games is completely gone.

“Why does Preston look so pissed?” Audrey asks from beside me. Preston was somehow able to get us great seats yet again.

“I don’t know. Christian’s probably been running his mouth.”

“Does he know he came by the salon yesterday?”

“Yes. They ran into each other when Preston was coming in and Christian was leaving.”

“Uh-oh.”

“My thoughts exactly. Preston was…I’ve never seen him so angry this afternoon.”

“Until now, you mean?”

“What?”

“Your man just threw his gloves off and took a swing at Christian.”

I look back at the ice and see she’s right. Standing up, I cup my hands to my mouth as I shout, “Don’t do it, Preston! He’s not worth it!” as if he could actually hear me over the packed crowd that’s cheering, rooting for a brawl between the known rivals.

“This isn’t going to end well for either of them,” Audrey remarks as helmets are thrown down too.

Fists fly and then Christian goes down on the ice. Preston is right there on top of him, punching him repeatedly in the face. The refs even give the two a chance to get a few hits in before they try to pull Preston off Christian. But Preston isn’t about to let up. His elbow rams into the face of the ref behind him and then there’s more blood spraying.

“Crap. He’s going to get thrown out for that!” I remark as I cover my face with both hands, unable to keep watching.

“Oh, what a mess,” Audrey mutters.

As the ref blows the whistle and calls for Preston to be ejected to the cheers of the Bobcats crowd, I can’t help but feel like it’s somehow all my fault.

I was supposed to help Preston keep his cool around Riley. Instead, I may be the reason he just lost it and hurt a referee.

I’ve become a distraction he didn’t need. After all, it’s the whole reason why he doesn’t date.

And I think he may be right to blame me for this as well.

“I need to go talk to him.”

“Now?” Audrey asks. “Are you crazy? What if he throws a swing at you?”

“He won’t hurt me,” I tell her confidently. At least not physically. I keep that part to myself. Even if the truth hurts, I want to hear it now before his team leaves after the game.

Downstairs in the tunnel leading to the locker room, I manage to throw Steve’s name around to some security guards, who go retrieve the man.

“What do you want, troublemaker?” he asks when he finally walks up.

“I need you to get me in the locker room to see Preston.”

“Are you nuts? I can’t let you back there. Not without a press pass. This is the Bobcat’s arena. I don’t have that kind of pull here.”

“Please, Steve. Let me check on him, make sure he’s okay.”

“You’re not worried about your Bobcat boy? Looks like he took most of the damage.”

“Is Christian still able to play?”

“Maybe. The docs are checking him out.”

“He’ll probably be fine, right? Do you know what he said to Preston?”

“No clue. And trust me Elle, even if I could get you back, you don’t want to be around him right now. He’s destroying the locker room.”

“Destroying?” I croak out.

“Lawrence has lost his shit. He’s going to be fined out his ass for the hit on the ref and the property damage.”

“Then let me talk to him. Maybe it’ll calm him down and prevent any more destruction.”

“You seriously believe you have that much power over him? You think awfully highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“No, I just I want to try to help him.”

“Fine. Give me a minute and I’ll see what I can do,” he huffs.

“Thank you.”

He steps away, talking into his intercom for several minutes before he goes up to the Bobcats security guys and tells them, “Riley needs an escort to the hospital. Go! Get over to the Bobcats locker room.”

Once they take off, he comes back over to me just as the crowd and the arena roars in triumph of something good happening for the Bobcats, possibly a score during the five-minute power play Preston caused.

“Is Christian really going to the hospital?” I ask in concern.

“Nah. But they don’t know that, do they?” he asks with a grin. “Come on. Hurry it up. You’ve got less than five minutes before intermission when the rest of the team comes in and you’ll need to get the hell out of there.”

“Okay,” I agree, hoping five minutes is enough time.

Inside the quiet row of players cubbies, doors hang off hinges, clothes are scattered around, and Preston is still dressed in his uniform, stomping around on his skates with his back to me.

“Preston,” I say softly. A second before he picks up his helmet or someone else’s and slams it into the wall, startling me, making me second-guess coming down here. Maybe Steve was right.

When he turns around, his eyes are glazed with fury as he glares at me, looking nothing like the sweet man I know he is inside. “How could you tell him, Elle?”

“Wh-what?” I ask in confusion. “I never told him about Finley.”

“You told him about us, that it was all fake!”

“I…that’s not even close to what I said. Not exactly.”

Before I can even say another word, Preston drops to the bench. His head is hanging in his hands between his legs as he shakes it. “I just lost my entire bonus for the postseason.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, knowing how infuriating that must be to lose after one mistake.

“I can’t do this anymore with you,” he says. “We were down two to one before my penalty. I heard the crowd. They scored again during the power play, didn’t they?”

“Y-yes, I think so.”

“Fuck!” he shouts. Getting up and turning around, he punches his bare fist straight through the wall.

“Preston…”

“We’re done, Elle!”

Done.

We’re done.

I knew it.

I knew it would come to this and still I stupidly fell for him. Preston all but warned me that he didn’t date, wouldn’t date if it jeopardized his hockey career, if it meant hurting his family.

And now it has.

The Warhawks are probably going to lose game five.

Preston lost his playoff bonus and won’t be getting a contract extension he was so desperate for.

Now, if another team wants him, he’ll have to up and move with or without Maya and Finley.

I know Preston is furious at himself for lashing out, but it’s me who gets all the blame right now.

Without another word, I slip off his jersey, glad I’m wearing a black lace cami underneath, and toss it on the closest bench. He can keep it. I don’t want a single reminder of him. It’ll just make getting over him even harder.