Chapter 28 Noah
TWENTY-EIGHT
NOAH
The chirping starts early in the game.
That’s no surprise. Every team has its requisite assholes. Guys who run their mouths to make up for their lackluster performance.
That’s never been my style. Even if it was, I wouldn’t have the ability. Not with the way our center plays the game. Aiden uses song to communicate with us wingers. It’s hard enough to remember what his damn lyrics mean to focus on offering up a your mom joke.
Moms are sacred, so I wouldn’t do that, but I can’t either way.
“Boom shakalaka,” Aiden calls as he skates forward with the puck.
War goes deep to the left, but it takes me a second to remember the play. When I do, I dig my skates into the ice and power forward. As I pick up speed, a flash of blue and black at our bench catches my eye.
Sure enough, Sienna’s there, settling beside Gavin.
He’s looking directly at me, scowling. He shouts my name, but before I can react, I’m knocked on my ass.
“Getting slow in your old age,” Vetter, Minnesota’s defenseman, chirps as he skates away.
War’s by my side in two strides, offering me a hand. “Where’s the fucking penalty call?” he grouses.
The ref circling nearby shakes his head, then takes off.
When I’m steady on my skates, War pats my shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I got—” I snap my mouth shut. There’s no way I’ll tell him I was distracted. But that’s exactly the problem. I was distracted by sixty-four inches of perfection.
Distracted by the powder blue jersey pulled taut across her chest, hinting at the swell of my favorite pair of tits. The frustrating need to know whose name is plastered across her back is killing me.
I shake the thoughts from my head and line up for the face-off.
There may be twenty thousand pairs of eyes locked on the ice right now, but I only feel hers. Her confusion is palpable.
My cheek twitches, the sensation urging me to turn, to let her know I’m okay.
I give in, just for a second, and relief courses through me. Her eyes lock with mine, confusion still evident there. She still doesn’t get it. This pull I feel toward her. This obsession.
I warned her long ago. Warned myself too.
I’m an obsessive guy. In many ways, I use it to my advantage. It allows me to give hockey all my focus. It helps me tune out the rest of the world during the precious little time I get with Ollie.
At the same time, the compulsion that comes with it can be a challenge.
Like now. I have no choice but to hold her gaze. To reassure her that this is real.
But as with any obsession, focusing so intently on one detail leads to missing another. So while I’m staring at Sienna, the ref blows the whistle and Minnesota wins the face-off, leaving me scrambling after the puck.
The pattern continues as the game goes on, my distraction more noticeable with every play. By the end of the second period, I’m certain Gavin will bench me.
“You seem awfully obsessed with the bench, Harry,” he shouts. “Want to hang out here for the rest of the game?”
Thank fuck he hasn’t caught on that my preoccupation with his sister is what’s causing me to lose my edge. She, on the other hand, disappears before the third period, leading me to believe she’s more aware of my dilemma than my coach or teammates.
I hate and appreciate her absence in equal measure.
As much as I want her near me, always, the space allows me to finally direct all my focus to the game. Where it should be. Where it needs to be.
My teammates have absolutely carried me, and we’re tied when we line up again.
I expect the chirping to be loud. This close to the end, the stakes are higher.
But I tune it out. Focus on proving to myself that I can do this.
That I can be obsessed with her yet still give my full attention to other important matters.
That I can do my job while allowing myself to actually have a life.
We win the face-off this time, then Aiden slashes the puck to me in a move I know by heart. I’m the team’s sniper for a reason. The chanting in the stands turns into white noise as I slash my stick against the ice and send the puck flying past Tatty’s left shoulder.
As the red light flashes above the net, signaling the goal, the arena erupts, the fans on their feet, clapping and stomping, the sound deafening. War and Aiden sandwich me in a hug, and then I skate in a tight circle, searching for my girl.
Is she in the owner’s box?
I take a lap around the ice, looking for her, knowing that to the rest of the world, this is nothing but the celly they’re used to.
When I don’t spot her, my heart sinks. Though I shake off the emotion quickly, remembering that Ollie will be waiting for my signal. So I tap my chest and point to the camera when I pass it, letting him know I might not be with him, but he’s always right here with me.
It’s our thing. I may get distracted from time to time, but I could never forget him.
I’m heading to the bench to switch out lines when Vetter skates up behind me.
“Looking for the Bolts’ new piece of ass, Harry?” he taunts.
Teeth gritted, I stupidly turn to face him. “What did you say?”
He gets up in my face, his helmet knocking against mine. “Team passing her around yet? You get the first drag?”
By the time the last word leaves him, my stick is on the ice and my gloves are too. Without hesitation, I cock my arm back and clock him in the jaw.
It’s a blur from there. The man didn’t expect me to react that way. I don’t react to chirping. Never have. Because I’ve never had a weakness like her.
Later, I’ll be pissed that my obsession has already been exploited, but right now, I relish in the deep thrill that overtakes me, ecstatic that he’s so shocked by the hit that he’s still wide-eyed and stunned when I grab his jersey and hit him again. Before I can get a third in, War pulls me away.
He’s a little too late. The rest of Minnesota’s line is in the mix now, and my teammates are jumping over the boards to stop them from attacking the two of us from behind.
By the time the refs break up the skirmish and they’ve doled out ten-minute penalties for both Vetter and me, both benches have been cleared and everyone but the coaches is panting for breath.
I skate toward the penalty box, my heart racing and anger flowing through my veins. And the emotion only grows when I search the arena and don’t see her anywhere.