Revenge Puck (Shot at Love #1)

Chapter 41

41

Elle

B eing in D.C., walking around the Warhawks arena with Christian feels all wrong.

Even though it’s nearly two hours before the game starts, the place is still packed with fans who are excited that this could be it—the final game that wins the Warhawks the championship trophy.

When we give a security guard our names, he takes us down to the hallway near the locker rooms. There’s a huge open lounge for friends and family of the players, usually ones with small children. A jumbo flat screen hangs on the wall, no doubt for showing the games. Comfy chairs for nursing mothers are scattered around, along with several travel baby cribs, and a changing table. The rest of the room has toys scattered for older kids, including a picnic table full of Lego blocks, which is where Finley is playing across from Maya while Preston hovers behind them. All three are wearing matching black Lawrence jerseys, and Preston already has his full pads and skates on, ready for warmups. Christian had to ask his coach if he could be a few minutes late, and he thankfully agreed, even though he doesn’t know why.

“Holy shit,” Christian whispers from the doorway.

“Don’t cuss,” I remind him just as Preston looks up and sees us.

“Elle?” His brow furrows in surprise until he looks between me and Christian and I know he’s assuming the worst.

Giving Christian a little tug on his arm, I lead the way over to the picnic table.

“I’m just another friend who wanted to come say hi and good luck,” I tell them. “Hey, Maya. Finley.” I give them a forced smile that Finley returns, but Maya looks frazzled, her knee bouncing uncontrollably as she eyes Christian.

“Hi, Ellie!” Finley says, then he throws his leg over the picnic bench to come over to us, arms open. I bend down and give him a hug as Preston comes over, Maya too, even though she stays half-hidden behind her brother.

“It’s good to see you again, Finley. Are you excited for the game?”

“Yep! Preston said when the Warhawks win, they’ll get to carry a big trophy.”

“That’s right,” I agree.

The boy’s eyes finally slide over to Christian. I look to Preston, who is staring at me, then at Maya, who is watching Christian through unblinking eyes. I’m waiting for one of them to make introductions, but when they both stand there silently, I decide to do it myself.

“Finley, do you remember the other day when you asked how that one Bobcats player was so fast? Number nineteen?”

He looks back at me and nods after he considers my question.

“Well, now you can ask him yourself. This is Christian Riley. He plays for the Bobcats. Number nineteen.”

Christian is frozen in place, studying Finley’s every move like he’s going to be quizzed about him later and his life depends on acing it. I elbow him in the side, causing him to finally snap out of his daze.

“Hey, um, hi, Finley.”

The boy looks up at him and asks, “You’re the player that’s really fast and steals the puck from the Warhawks?”

Christian’s gaze goes from his son to Maya and quickly back again. Clearing his throat, he nods. “Um, yeah. Sometimes I guess I’m fast.”

Finley’s head cocks. “So? How are you faster than everyone else?”

“Ah, well, I practice a lot.”

“Uncle Preston practices a lot too, and he’s slow.”

Preston growls quietly while Christian huffs out a laugh. “Preston could practice day and night and he would still be slow.”

“Are you playing in today’s game?” Finley asks.

“Yes. Yeah, of course.”

“You aren’t in your uniform.”

“Oh right,” Christian says, his hands that have been clutching his blue and yellow jersey relax as he untwists it. “I, um, I brought you one of my jerseys. If you want it, I mean.”

“Cool. I don’t have a Bobcats’ jersey,” Finley replies as he swipes it from Christian’s hands. He holds it up in front of him, inspecting the front and then the back of the youth large he’ll be able to grow into and wear for years.

I really hope Christian sticks around that long.

“Bobcats! Rawr ! Will you sign it for me?” Finley asks, practically jumping up and down.

“Ah, yeah. Absolutely.” Christian pats down the sides of his slacks for a writing utensil, even though he never carries one. “I don’t have a pen or anything on me.”

“I have one,” Maya says, whipping one out from her clear cross-body bag. She offers it to Finley who snatches it up and holds the marker and jersey up to Christian. He takes both and looks at them as if he can’t remember how to write his own name.

“You could use that Lego table over there,” I suggest.

“Right. Yeah. Thanks,” Christian says before he goes over and lays the fabric on the table with Finley hot on his heels. He points at the top white corner above the numbers on the front to indicate where he wants his father to sign.

“I’ll just…I better get to my seat. Will you be okay, Christian?”

He nods without even glancing in my direction.

“Good luck,” I tell him and glance over at Preston, who looks like a sad grizzly bear. “You too.”

Preston

Elle’s here.

Or she was here.

I was so shocked to see her with Christian that I couldn’t even speak a word. And now she’s gone, and I can’t exactly chase her through the arena in my skates.

I’m not sure why I’m surprised she came with Christian.

The photo of them…embracing outside her salon was all over sports news and social media. I wanted to punch something or someone the first time I saw it, along with the assumptions that they were back together, and I had been kicked to the curb.

By the tenth time I had to look at the image, I had come to terms with the fact that I had lost her fair and square, and it was nobody’s fault but my own. Winning the trophy and begging her on national television would be pointless now.

Maya looks about like I feel as she supervises Christian and Finley’s first meeting. The two are making a spaceship out of Legos, that looks like a giant dick, complete with balls. I’m not sure if Maya’s going to yell, cry, or laugh when this meeting is over.

And it will have to be over soon. Not just because I’m a little hurt that Finley put on Riley’s Bobcats jersey over mine, but because we’ve both got a game to play.

What was with Elle’s shirt? It had both Bobcats and Warhawk logos on it, as if she doesn’t have a preferred team. I want her to root for my team, wear my jersey. But I fucked that all up.

“We need to get going, Riley,” I remind him, a little harsher than I intended because of the reminder of how badly I screwed up with Elle.

“Oh. Yeah. Right,” Christian agrees as he stands from the tiny chair and runs his fingers through the front of his blond hair. “I…thanks,” he says to Maya. Then to my nephew, he reaches a hand toward him, turning it into a fist for him to hit. “It was nice to meet you, Finley. I heard you like video games.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Maybe…maybe we could play some time?”

“Could we, Mom?” he turns to ask Maya, who says to Christian, “We’ll see.”

Nodding in understanding, he backs toward the door with a wave, nearly tripping over a baby stroller before he makes it out the door.

“This way,” I tell him, pointing down the tunnel. “Try not to fall and break your neck. Everyone will blame me for it.”

“ Fuucck ,” he whispers, scrubbing both hands over his face. “How badly did I screw that up?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. It didn’t seem that bad to me, but I’m not sure what Maya thought. “It was…nice of you to bring him a jersey.”

“I thought he might laugh or throw it in the trash.”

“That’s basically what Elle did to mine,” I mutter. “So… how is she?” I cave and ask him.

“Who?”

“Elle.”

His shoulders shrug as we walk. “How the fuck would I know?”

I honestly expected him to gloat, to say they were back together now that I’m out of the picture. After all, she came to D.C. with the prick.

“You’re really going to play stupid? I know you came to the arena together. You don’t want to try to piss me off before the game?” I ask in disbelief.

“I’m not playing stupid. I’m not back with Ellie. She came with me today just as a friend.”

“I saw the photo of you outside her salon.”

“Man, that wasn’t…I didn’t know there was anyone watching us, I swear. I just went to her because I was upset after you broke the news to me that I’m a father. Ellie was the only one who knew, the only one I could talk to.”

“So, you two didn’t…you haven’t…”

“No. Elle is definitely over me.”

“Are you over her?”

Snorting, he turns to me and says, “I’ve got more important shit to worry about now, don’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I agree.

“Ellie…she’s probably the only person in the world who thinks I could be a decent father.”

“You don’t think you’ll be a decent father?”

“I don’t know if Maya will give me the chance.”

“It won’t be easy to convince her,” I tell him honestly. “And if you fuck up this chance, I’ll kill you.”

“Nope. You can’t get in my head today, man.” With a grin, he says, “ My son is wearing my jersey, and he thinks I’m fast.”

“He’s four. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” I joke with him. “And it doesn’t matter how fast you are tonight. Elle’s here. Maya said I’ve got to make a grand gesture to win her back, which means I’m about to go win that trophy for her.”