Chapter 13
Ground Under My Feet
The Icehawks play their biggest game tonight in Colorado.
Practices have been intense at times and relaxed at others.
This should be a hard-fought series, and the Icehawks are definitely the underdogs.
If a few of their stars stop underperforming, they might stand a chance.
Drakos Lenkov has been ineffective this past month with the exception of a timely assist that led to the game winner in the regular season finale.
He needs to step up, which’ll be a miracle considering his current twenty-game slump. —Aria at All Hockey News
~~Drakos~~
My slump has lasted twenty games? That must be a record for me and not the type of record a pro hockey player strives for.
I can’t believe I’ve gone this long without a goal.
It’s so uncharacteristic of my game, but I’ve been off lately thanks to Aria and her constant criticism.
I know it’s not fair to blame her. In reality, it’s all on me.
I’m a professional who shouldn’t let criticism by the media get under my skin, yet I’m only human.
I avoid Aria for the next couple days. I’ve caught glimpses of her at breakfast in the hotel restaurant, sitting in the lobby, and enjoying a glass of wine in the bar.
Each time I’ve slunk off like a thief in the night, making a quick exit before she sees me.
I have to admit I’d rather she attack me than some of the other guys on the team.
I can take it better than most, though that’s not necessarily accurate considering my crappy performances of late.
So far, she hasn’t mentioned the incident between Koko and Bubba, but I don’t trust her.
Perhaps she’s compiling more damaging information and will expose us all at once.
What if she accuses me of sexually harassing her?
Not that I was, but the truth has never stopped her from making up shit.
The team doesn’t need this kind of drama.
I vow to stay away despite my unwanted preoccupation with her.
And I am in trouble here. If I’m not concentrating on hockey, I’m thinking of her.
It’s ironic that I’ve gone from wishing she’d disappear to wishing she’d sleep with me and then disappear.
Shaking off thoughts of Aria’s luscious lips and incredible body, I board the team bus for tonight’s game.
We arrive late to the arena because of traffic, and we rush to get ready.
She’s the last person I should be thinking about as we prepare for the biggest game since the Icehawks’ inception.
Of course, in the playoffs the next game is always the biggest game.
My former team were and still are the perennial losers of the league.
As a result, I have very little playoff experience, which is true of most of the Icehawks players, though not all.
For example, Wild has won two Stanley Cups, and we expect him to provide leadership as we navigate new territory for the majority of us.
I’m lacing up my skates when Dash steps to the middle of the locker room and commands everyone’s attention. We stop what we’re doing and look up.
“I’ll make this brief. Let’s prove the doubters wrong. Let’s show the world we belong in the playoffs. Most importantly, let’s go home with at least one win out of two. We can do this, guys.”
We shout our agreement as Dash returns to his stall. We’re fired up, and we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.
A few minutes later, I step onto the ice for warm-ups and am blown away by the volume of the capacity crowd.
The noise makes Colorado even tougher to play against, hence the term “home ice advantage.” We’ll get our chance, but we need to win one of these games and keep Colorado from gaining momentum we can’t counteract.
I skate large circles and attempt to get in the zone.
As I approach the area behind the net, I spot a familiar face in a sea of hostility.
Aria’s occupying a seat on the glass. She’s dressed in an All Hockey News polo, which looks damn sexy on her.
I slow as I pass and salute her. She waves a hand in response.
Her brilliant smile lights up every corner of my world and gives me renewed energy and determination.
For reasons I won’t admit, I’m motivated to show her I can be the star the team needs me to be.
The game is everything we’ve expected—rough, intense, and a defensive battle.
In the middle of the third, the score is two to two.
I’ve been all over this ice like a madman with assists on both goals, one by Kirby and one by Dash.
My linemates have stepped up their game, too, and we’re showing the league we’re a first line to be reckoned with.
My confidence soars as the puck drops with five minutes left to play. We’ve got this. I feel it. Kirby nudges me as he skates by. I wink, and he nods before turning all business.
Then our game fucking falls apart.
Roman is caught on the wrong side of the net for an easy Colorado score.
Will “Ollie” Oliver is out of position and blocks Roman’s view for another score a few minutes later.
Then Colorado’s star center delivers a laser between Roman’s legs.
I don’t think there’s a goalie in the league who could’ve stopped that puck.
That last score with a minute to go puts the final nail in our coffin.
We’d fought hard, but we let up in the last five minutes and lost two to five.
The locker room is solemn after the game. No one’s talking much. I might be known as team DJ, but even I can’t think of appropriate music for this moment unless I want to be a real downer, which I don’t.
Every guy here is currently being hard on himself. I see the frustration on their faces. We’re doing the same thing, dissecting the game in our heads in an attempt to figure out what each of us can do better.
I had a good game considering how off I’ve been, but the best game in the world doesn’t override my dejection from our loss.
Coach enters the room, and I look up, not sure if we’re in for a butt-chewing or a pep talk.
“Boys, I’m proud of every one of you.”
Definitely a pep talk.
He continues. “You fought hard until the final buzzer. You gave everything you had. Luck wasn’t on our side this time.
Our pucks didn’t fall in the net like Colorado’s did despite several close ones.
We’ll get them next time. Take time this evening to go over game video.
Look for little ways you can improve. Then forget about this game and face forward.
Best-case scenario has always been that we return to Portland tied one-one.
Let’s do it.” He claps his hands together.
Several of us nod our agreement. A few guys clap.
Satisfied, he leaves the room.
Dash speaks next. “Let’s get some sleep. No partying tonight, boys. You can party all you want when our season is over, but let’s not hurry it along.”
“Yeah,” says Wild. “We have to be 100 percent committed.” The young guys perk up when Wild talks because of his two rings. I can’t blame them. I’m not in awe or envious of Wild, though, but I do respect him for what he’s done in his career.
“Anybody in for a game of poker in my room?” pipes up Braden Slater. I’m pretty sure he’s itching to help our rookies part with their money. Several guys indicate their interest. I’m not one of them, though I’m usually all in when it comes to cards.
I’m one of the last guys off the bus at the hotel. I’m not sure what I want to do. I’m not ready to go to my room, but I’m not in the mood for a lot of company either.
I head toward the bar when Kirby stops me.
“Where you going?”
“For a nightcap. Wanna join me?”
“Nah, I’m ready for some poker. Later.” He waves as he hurries to catch the elevator that’s just arrived.
“Later.” I continue toward the bar and stop in the doorway.
A survey of the interior indicates none of my teammates are in here.
In fact, it’s pretty quiet except for a few tables of businessmen.
I head for the bar before I spot Aria. I hesitate before altering my course toward her.
I pull out a chair and sit down. She glances up and grimaces.
“Good to see you, too.” I smile with what I hope is total innocence.
“There are plenty of other tables in the area.” She sweeps her arms wide to drive home her point.
“I know.” I shrug.
I order a vodka on the rocks, and she sips her wine.
“You almost had them,” Aria says, “but let off the gas at the end.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re making the doubters question themselves.”
“I don’t think so. We lost by three goals. What about you? Are you a doubter or believer?”
“Not sure yet. I hate to say it, but you played a pretty good game.”
“I apologize for not giving you enough fodder for your next article.”
“Damn you, but I’ll think of something.” She suppresses a smile, but her eyes reveal the truth. She’s amused, rather than annoyed.
“That’s a given.”
We stare at each other. I don’t hate her nearly as much as I did. I wonder if she’s softening toward me. My grandma always said to make friends with your enemies. They might still be enemies, but you’ll have a better chance of knowing what they’re up to.
I take a long swallow of my vodka. It burns all the way down, but I don’t mind. “Why didn’t you write about the incident last night?”
“You asked me not to.”
“Since when do you do what I ask?”
“I don’t.” She laughs, and I’m struck once again by how attractive she is. “I’m waiting for something better to write about. Besides, a local reporter beat me to it, so it wasn’t a scoop.”
“Yeah, he did.” I like this easy banter between us, and I want more of it. “You hungry? There’s a little all-night café down the block. I’m starving.”
“We aren’t friends, you know.” She studies me warily.
“No, but we can have a ceasefire. Besides, I hate to eat alone.”
“You’re buying.”
“Deal.”
We discuss the Icehawks’ chances to make it to the final as we walk. I’m enjoying myself. She’s knowledgeable about hockey, more so than I realized.
The café is small with only a half dozen tables, all occupied but one, which we take.
After ordering our meals, we continue our conversation.
I scoot my chair closer to her so we can keep our voices low.
My mind isn’t really on hockey. I’m completely focused on Aria’s lips and those eyes.
Damned if I don’t want her as badly as I wanted her last night.
This craving isn’t going to go away until it’s satisfied.
I can either suffer in silence, or I can do something about it. I decide to do something about it.
After we finish dinner and I pay the tab, I point at a club across the street, which appears to be the only other thing open on this block. The bass is pulsating from inside, while colored lights are blinking and swirling.
“Wanna listen to some music?”
Aria hesitates, then shrugs. “Why not?”
We enter the club. The music is so loud my heart throbs to the beat.
I slip the guy at the door a hundred-dollar bill, and he escorts us inside.
We weave through the groups of people until we arrive at a private booth in the back.
It’s enclosed and has a sliding glass door we can pull across the opening kind of like a small VIP room, but all contained within a booth.
I slide in next to Aria and ignore her surprised glance. There’s no point in attempting conversation, so we sit in silence, watching the crowd around us and on the dance floor.
The couple seated closest to us is dry humping…or are they? I actually think they’re doing more than that. Not that I care. Hell, I’ve done my share of fucking in clubs. It’s part of the wild, anything-goes scene. Thinking about doing that with Aria arouses me to a fever pitch.
I slip a glance Aria’s way. She’s watching our neighbors with undisguised interest and possibly envy, if I’m reading her correctly.
The club is mostly dark except for the flashing lights shining on the dance floor.
There’s an electric candle on our table that flickers dimly.
It’s a romantic look, and I’m in the mood for romance.
Reaching out, I shut the sliding glass door on our booth.
Doing so slightly mutes the music. At least we can talk to each other now.
I place a hand on Aria’s leg. She raises her face to mine. Before we know it, we’re kissing and kissing and kissing. I’m so into her, I forget where we are. Not that I’d care if I remembered.
My sole goal is to seduce Aria, and I won’t need to work that hard. She’s over halfway there.
She squeezes the bulge in my pants and rubs in a circular motion. I groan from the depths of my soul. Holy shit, she’s making me hotter than fuck.
“You’re killing me,” I growl in her ear.
She’s smug with satisfaction, as if she has me right where she wants me. I wonder who’s really seducing who.
“I want to fuck you. Right here,” I say into her ear. She raises her head, and her eyes open wide.
“Here?” She squeezes me harder, and I’m about to lose my shit. She’s wearing a mid-thigh skirt, which would make it easy to hoist her on my lap and screw her brains out, if she’s willing.
“Yeah. The glass is one-way. No one sees in.”
“Maybe I want them to see us,” she teases and challenges me with a wicked grin.
“You’re killing me.” I laugh, not caring who sees us at this point. I’m that far gone.
Aria unzips my dress pants and slips her hand under my boxer briefs.
“Shit,” I grind out through my teeth as she takes my cock and pumps her fist up and down.
I glance around. The only things visible in this darkened area are outlines of people.
In fact, I’m pretty sure the couple next to us is about to orgasm based on what little I can see.
I’m not sure why I care. Sex in public has never bothered me before.
Maybe it’s out of respect for Aria, the woman who’s currently stroking my cock with an enthusiasm that’s contagious.
The thought that I might respect Aria as a person catches me off guard. I respect Aria? If I weren’t so horny, I’d being thinking long and hard about my shifting opinion of her.
But right now, I have more important things to shift, such as the ground under my feet.