Chapter 9 #2
The crowd was on their feet, the jumbotron highlighting every player announced as if they were rockstars. Including with gold stars and fireworks on the screens. I was caught up in the festivities, on my feet since I knew every member of the team and longed to show my support.
Yet nothing had prepared me for when Ford’s name was announced, done so by an announcer with a deep, penetrating voice in a tone that everyone would remember long after the game was concluded. The cheering was loud enough I covered my ears, people jumping up and down in their seats.
And Mama Bear had her hands clasped together, staring at her son with tremendous pride on her face. Meanwhile, his two brothers were catcalling him right and left. I could only imagine what growing up in their family had been like.
Something very special.
The insane yelling and cheering continued long after it should stop, but for a full three extra minutes, no one bothered to try to crush their spirit.
But the game was ready to commence and even though I’d tried my best to read up on the game itself, including rules and shots made, all I knew for certain what that Ford was supposed to hit the black, shiny round thing into the huge net being protected by a member of the other team.
The skating was wild from the start, and even with the murmurs of the crowd, I could still hear the slushing sound make by the thin steel blades driving through ice. Play after play, everyone in the arena appeared to be sitting on the edge of their seats.
I had to admit I quickly became mesmerized by Ford’s raw power, his body moving with incredible grace that seemed impossible for a man of his size. There was no doubt he was a brilliant player. That was easy to tell by the number of savage grunts and body language tossed about by the other team.
Plus, Ford was charismatic, taking the time to show off to the crowd.
I, like obviously every other woman in the place, concentrated on his every move.
Given I’d touched every muscle, I knew just how impressive they were, appreciating them through a jersey barely large enough to contain him.
While he had lethal skills, it was truly his arrogant charm that radiated above all else.
The game continued, moving from first to second period and I was more energized than I thought possible.
Plus, I would say I was having a puck bunny moment in studying Ford as intensely as I’d been doing.
Yes, I could lie to myself and claim it was for clinical reasons only, but my eyes had become traitors, watching the way his thighs flexed when he pivoted.
That was nothing in comparison to the wet heat soaking my panties. My pussy had issued the real betrayal.
“You’re watching him pretty closely,” Roxanne teased, bumping me with her shoulder.
“He’s not bad,” I managed.
“He’s ranked number ten in the American Hockey League,” Patrick said while leaning in front of his wife.
“Don’t give him that much credit,” Cole groaned. “You know how it goes to his already big, fat head.”
“Don’t torment your brother while he’s playing,” Margaret instructed. Then she was on her feet, pumping her fist while shouting the same thing everyone was shouting loud and proud.
“See ya!”
“What does that mean?” I gathered everyone in the family heard me. Why not make it a free for all as to who answered me.
“See that player?” Beck instructed. He was talking about someone from the other team. “He’s headed to the penalty box.”
Cole clapped his hands. “Go Ford.”
“What’s happening?” Everyone else was on their feet. I was too, my breath catching in my throat.
Samantha sighed. “Take a look at Ford’s top hand. He’s not choking up on the stick but keeping it out. That will give him the lever action to snap the blade. He’s known for psyching out both the defense and the goalies. Notice how he’s shifting his weight from his back foot.”
“Does everyone know about hockey?” I hadn’t realized the words had left my lips until Samantha lit up.
“That’s what you get when you grow up with three rough and tumble boys,” Samantha said, laughing as she did.
“Did you tell him to sleep with his twig?” Beck asked, and it took me a few seconds to realize what the hell he was talking about.
“I might have said become one with his stick?” I answered by way of a question and he laughed.
“Wow. Our brother listens to you. That says something.”
When he fired off the shot, the puck flew through the air and there wasn’t a person who wasn’t holding their breath.
Me included. Everything was in slow motion, but when the goaltender managed to deflect it, I was certain everyone watching the game would destroy the arena.
I’d never heard such brutal, harsh comments, one flying after another.
The sound of the buzzer brought one too many groans and I could tell by the shift in moods in the people around me they were none too happy with Ford’s second period performance.
“Does everyone turn on you so quickly when you’re not having a great moment on the ice?” My question was slightly rhetorical.
Beck stood and stretched and I did the same thing, keeping my eyes locked on Ford as he ripped off his helmet. His face was plastered by his sweaty, unruly hair, which made him look even sexier than before. “Pretty much.”
“That’s not true. It’s worse for shifters,” Roxanne admitted.
“Look at the reporters ready to jump him as soon as he gets off the ice. He only has a few minutes to recharge and with the Tyrants up by one, that means two goals will need to be scored or they won’t be in the playoffs.
There is a lot riding on this game, more than you understand including politically.
” Roxanne tilted her head to look me in the eye.
“That’s why you wanted me to see the game.” I noticed the huge jumbotron, highlighting various fans and their signs, most in support.
But not all.
My blood still boiled seeing the hatred toward shifters. I just didn’t get why.
“No, I wanted you to be here because you have a real effect on him. He’s about to lose his shit, which will then deplete his confidence and if the man is true to form, he’s going to highlight the heavy load of testosterone he’s carrying along with the weight of winning this game.”
I wasn’t certain if she was teasing me or not. True to form, his rage was on full display when he smashed his fist into the acrylic fencing surrounding the stands before storming off.
“He had about fifteen minutes to calm down and regain control or this game is already lost.”
“Help him,” Samantha encouraged. “Or he won’t be bearable to deal with. For a long time.”
Great. Talk about feeling pressure. How was I supposed to calm down a man like Ford, especially since our last interaction had been confusing, the conversation explosive?
“Where is he?”
“Locker room. Just be prepared. He won’t appreciate your interference.” Roxanne’s warning was done with a smile.
“Until he wins.” Samantha was just as pushy as her brother.
When the cameras found me in the audience then shifted to the earlier display of insanity in the parking lot with the hateful woman, I knew I’d faint. I had to get out of the arena.
“Fine,” I grumbled, moving through the crowd. By the time I made it to the hallway, I had to push and shove my way through far too many people, including reporters, whose questions were abominable. The coach was trying diligently to keep them from going into the locker room.
Catching my breath wasn’t an option, people pulling at me.
“There she is. The one on the jumbotron.”
Wait. Were the reporters determined to chase me down? I even took off running, fighting my way through them with my pulse racing.
When Coach Stryker noticed my approach, he appeared relieved, allowing me to scoot under his arm.
Finding Ford didn’t take me very long. He’d just punched the hard metal locker as he’d done with the plexiglass, and I could feel the intense vibrations from where I stood.
While half the players were in a state of undress, they weren’t in the mood to care about a woman invading their space.
They were far too busy perfecting their venomous expressions to notice me weaving through them.
“Glad you’re here,” the coach called.
Before I reached Ford, he’d jerked off his shirt and shoulder pads, cursing the entire time.
He threw his arms up and against the locker, his head lowered.
With his back to me, air was yanked from my lungs from seeing his sculpted muscles.
With Ford, you never knew what to expect and when I touched his arm, his reaction was full of the same anger.
Even his eyes appeared dilated, shimmering in an entirely different way than I’d experienced so far.