Chapter 14
TRISTAN
“ Y ou’re on fucking fire tonight, man!” Flip crashes into me.
We’re in the last ten minutes of play in the third period, and I’ve scored as many goals this game. It’s only an exhibition, but it’s against the team who took us out of the playoffs last year. I needed this.
“Beautiful goal, Stiles.” Dallas slaps me on the shoulder as we trade places. He glides out onto the ice, and I take a spot on the bench next to Ashish, who gives me a fist bump.
“You’re owning the ice tonight,” Coach tells me.
More of my teammates pat me on the back as I take a drink and catch my breath. I can’t stop smiling. I scan the arena and spot my brother and dad. Bea is in the box with Hemi and the girls.
Flip pats me on the back. “I said you’d kill it tonight, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did. That was a great setup.” Flip isn’t playing his best tonight. He’s usually cleaner on the ice, but he was out late last night. Regardless, he recovered a fumbled pass, and I scored the goal.
“We’re a kickass team, but you really pulled it out.” He taps his temple. “You gotta stay out of your head.”
“I know. I’m my own worst enemy sometimes.”
He pats me on the back like he understands, but Flip usually lets things roll right off him.
If he has a bad game, he says he’ll do better next time.
If he has a great game, he’ll give his teammates credit.
If I have a bad game, I worry the next one will be worse, that I don’t deserve my spot on this team.
It’s a shit mindset to get into, so I need to roll with this high.
After a few minutes, we rotate back onto the ice. The opposition scrambles for a goal to close our lead, but they can’t get the puck to stay past the center line, so we win the game, four-two.
I stop to chat with my dad and brother before I hit the locker room.
“Beautiful game tonight, son.” Dad claps me on the shoulder.
“Thanks. We played tight, and I had good setups.”
“You kicked ass!” Brody gives me a fist bump. “My friends are blowing up my phone. Can we snap a pic?”
“For sure.” I throw my arm over my brother’s shoulders and smile as he snaps a bunch of selfies. “Things are good? We can get on the ice together next week?”
“I don’t want to ruin your flow,” Brody says.
“You never ruin my flow.” I squeeze his shoulder. “We’ll make it happen. I’ll check your schedule and mine and toss out a couple of dates.”
“Okay. Sounds good.” Brody’s all smiles.
“Everything going okay? Is Beatrix still staying with you?” Dad asks.
“Uh, yeah. She is for a while longer.” I rub the back of my neck. “Her last apartment wasn’t great, so we want to make sure she’s in a safer neighborhood this time.”
“It’s good you’re letting her stay with you. Her family didn’t have it easy growing up.”
“No, they didn’t. But she’s got a good job now.”
“And Flip helps her out, I’m sure.”
“When she lets him, yeah. She’s pretty independent and does most of the caretaking, actually.”
“You two have that in common, then.” He fishes around in his pocket for his keys. “All right, Brody. You’ve got school in the morning. Let’s get you home.” Dad smiles at me. “Nice game tonight. I’m real proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll call you later in the week.”
“Sounds good.” He ushers Brody down the hall.
The locker room is buzzing with the high of handing our biggest rivals their ass. When Flip sees me, he whistles and claps.
“Fuck off, man.” I flip him the bird, but I’m smiling.
I needed this win and these points. I needed my team to see that I can play my ass off, even when it’s just an exhibition game, that I can score goals against the team who slapped our balls at the end of last season.
I like Hollis, but I don’t want to give up my spot on first line for him.
I want to be on the same line as Flip during the first game of the season, and I hope my game play tonight will help secure that.
“You’re coming out tonight.” Flip points an accusing finger at me. “We are celebrating the fuck out of this win.”
“Yeah, I’m coming out,” I agree.
“That wasn’t a question. You have zero excuses for getting out of shots tonight.” His smile is wide and infectious. “You play this hard during the season and teams will fight over you come contract time.”
“That’s the hope.” I want Toronto to renew. I want to keep playing for my home team and with my best friend. I want things to stay the same.
“And when we’ve slept off the hangover, you and I will run some drills with the guys tomorrow afternoon. We need some bro time. Get your gear off and get in the shower. You’re buying the first round.”
I ride the high all the way to the bar. I have a text from Nate congratulating me on the win. I promise I’ll call him tomorrow so we can catch up.
The second we step through the doors, we’re swarmed.
Fucking Flip posting shit on social media.
I fight my way through a throng of excited bunnies, a few of whom I recognize.
There are always locals who show up when they find out where we’re going.
I do my best to avoid them and head for the bar.
We don’t have practice until later tomorrow, so I plan to have a good time tonight.
I glance over my shoulder, making sure none of my teammates are around, and that Flip is occupied before I check my messages.
Bea is saved in my contacts as #1. With us traveling soon, I needed to be able to contact her in ways that don’t include me throwing shit into the loft at two in the morning.
According to her most recent message, she’s waiting to order a drink.
I scan the bodies and spot her ten feet down the bar.
At the game, she was wearing jeans and a team hoodie.
Her hair was down and wavy. Now it’s pulled up in a ponytail, and she’s wearing a cropped tank.
Some dude is trying to chat her up, but she ignores him.
I want to knock his teeth out for even looking at her.
But I can’t do that unless I want Flip to figure out what’s going on.
Her chin is propped on her fist, and her gaze is fixed on the bartender, who happens to be female.
And someone I know. Not because I’ve slept with her, though.
I know better than to screw the people who serve us drinks. I can’t say the same for Flip.
I’m stopped for a couple of selfies as I try to edge my way closer to Bea. The guy beside her leans in, trying to strike up conversation, but Bea gives him a tight-lipped smile and a one-word answer. I need this jerkoff to get a clue and leave my girl the fuck alone.
I put myself between them and address the guy. “She’s not interested in you, so back the fuck off.” I don’t know what my expression must be, but he abandons the bar and disappears into the crowd without a word.
I turn to Bea. Her delicious mouth is tipped up in a knowing half grin.
I barely resist the urge to lean in and drag my lips up her throat.
She looks amazing, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.
I want to put my hands on her, pull her onto the dance floor, and let everyone know she’s mine.
But I can’t, because if Flip finds out, he’ll murder me.
Not for the first time I wonder, briefly, how bad it would be if he knew.
Then I think about that Stacey woman. Yeah. Probably really bad.
Bea pokes at her lip with her tongue, eyes roving over me. “Fuck, you look good in a suit.”
“You always look good, but my favorite is you under me, about to come all over my fingers or my tongue.”
She throws her head back and laughs, giving me a saucy look. “Nice work on the ice tonight. Watching you dominate made my panties unreasonably damp.”
I lean in again. “You should take them off and bring them to me so I can verify that.”
“Or you could stick your hand down my pants and find out.” She grins deviously.
“That sounds like a dare.”
Her eyes dart over my shoulder, and she steps back. “Flip and teammates incoming.”
Flip edges his way between us and throws an arm over both of our shoulders. “Try not to rip each other’s heads off tonight, eh?”
It’s not her head I want to rip off. It’s her clothes. That guy who was flirting with her, though? I wouldn’t mind separating his head from his body.
Flip waves to the bartender, and Dallas edges in beside me. “Pretty sure Hemi brought her entourage to babysit Flip’s ass tonight. Shilpa and Ashish even came out.”
“Where is she?” I glance over my shoulder. Hemi sometimes comes out with the team under the guise of celebrating. She rarely has more than one drink, if any. Her primary goal is to ensure we don’t make the team look bad.
“Seven o’clock. She’s wearing a team shirt tied at the waist, black jeans, and fuck-me heels,” Dallas grumbles.
The fuck-me heels comment has me doing a double take when I spot her. She’s wearing ice blue stilettos with the team logo. “She still making your life miserable?” I ask as Bea makes her way back to Hemi and Hammer.
“Every damn chance she gets.”
The bartender approaches and gives Flip a tight smile before she turns her attention to me and Dallas. “Nice game tonight. What can I get you boys?”
“A round of shots on this guy!” Flip slaps me on the back.
I roll my eyes. “Dude. When have shots ever been a good idea?”
“They’re always a good idea.”
The bartender quirks her brow.
“Go on. Line ’em up,” I tell her.
We down the shots, and of course, because it’s on my dime, Flip orders a dozen more and calls the rest of the guys over.
We toast the win, and Flip orders one more round, but he pays for these, which is rare for him.
Hemi, Shilpa, Hammer, and Bea get called over to join us.
Hemi and Shilpa give us judgy looks as we pass them out.
I bite my tongue when Hemi passes her shot to Bea.
Two beers and Bea’s tipsy, so adding shots probably isn’t the best idea.