Chapter 10
Gavin
Idon’t know if she believed me. I told her my side, and she pressed her full lips together and nodded. She didn’t say anything. She only entered the code on the door and went into the house, scooped up her little dog, and went to her bedroom.
Mav eventually came home as did Gigi. We had dinner together, and Haddy acted like she always does, friendly but not really making eye contact.
It twists in my chest, and I want to pull her aside and make her tell me where she landed.
That would be a mistake, so instead we chatted about the charity clinic. Mav bragged about his cousin, and how she inspired a whole generation of princess hockey stars, male and female.
Haddy’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink when I joined him in praising her popularity among those future hockey stars.
She even laughed when I mentioned the little boy with the dad who is allegedly mean as a snake.
“That doesn’t sound very good,” Gigi frowned, patting Spanky’s fuzzy head. “Are you guys mandated reporters?”
“I don’t think so,” Mav polished off his last habanero-spiced black bean burrito. “Coach might be, but not us.”
“You don’t seem too worried about it,” she pressed.
“I was concerned at first.” Haddy leans over to put her little dog on the porch. “Then his dad showed up, and they interacted like any father and son, no fear, all shouting and happy excitement.”
“The guy seemed okay,” Mav agreed. “I think the little kid might’ve overheard his friends joking around or something.”
Gigi seemed satisfied. “Well, I’ll tell you who was not shouting with happy excitement.”
“Oh, no.” Haddy leans forward to squeeze her arm. “Was it elimination day?”
“First round contestants for the West Coast Regional dog fair.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I do this every year. I’ve done my best to scrub our address from the Internet, but keep your eyes open.”
“Not this again,” Mav groans.
“What the fuck?” I look from Gigi to Mav. “Is something going to happen?”
“Somebody’s going to toilet paper the house or stink-bomb the mailbox,” Mav explains.
“Which is a federal offense, by the way.” Haddy stands, walking over to where Peepee is trying to climb back up the steps from the yard to the porch.
“We should figure out a way to booby trap it!” Mav is on his feet collecting plates, which prompts me to do the same.
“And have it go off on sweet Mr. Nelson?” Gigi cries. “Never! We’ll deal with the stink if it comes.”
“Maybe we could teach Spanky to be a guard dog,” Haddy observes, collecting the serving dishes and following her cousins into the house.
“I don’t know if Spanky is discerning enough for that,” Gina says. “He might attack the wrong person.”
“I’m not sure anyone would be afraid of a poodle,” I tease.
It’s a small space, and Mav and Gina are busily rinsing and loading the dishwasher. I put the stack of plates I collected on the counter, and I notice Haddy waiting with the serving dish in one hand and Peepee in the other.
“Here, I’ll take care of those.” I try giving her a smile.
She blinks up at me briefly, giving me a hint of a smile in return. “Thanks. I guess I’ll head on up, then.”
I pause, watching her go to the stairs without looking back.
We’re headed into a time when I’ll be at the arena most nights, not to mention traveling. It would be easy to bury myself in the sport like I’ve done for so long, since college, and forget these past few weeks ever happened.
Only, I don’t want to forget.
We finish up in the kitchen, and Mav and Gigi curl up on the couch to watch some reality TV show, but I head upstairs to my room.
I hear her finishing in the bathroom. I hear her open the door, and I picture her going to her bedroom. It’s a longshot, but I snatch the jersey I bought last week off the back of my chair and open my door before she closes hers.
She stops, looking straight at me in a way that tenses every muscle in my body.
With a blink, I take her in. She’s wearing soft cotton pajama pants with tiny mermaids all over them and a thin, long-sleeved cotton shirt. Her soft hair is gathered in a messy bun on her head, and her face is freshly washed.
Today at the arena, she was in full pageant mode, with thick black lashes, glossy nude lips, and all the glitter and sequins. It was all very glamorous, but I like this way better.
Tonight, she looks so young. I walk down the hall to where she’s standing, and the closer I get, I see the faint freckles on the bridge of her nose.
“I got this for you after the last game.” I hold out the sweater with the Champions logo on the front and a giant Number 5 on the back under the name Knight.
“It’s your jersey.” She takes it in her hands, turning it over and holding it up to her body.
It’s pretty big, but so was the one she wore for her cousin.
“I noticed you were wearing Mav’s jersey last game.” I don’t say it made me angry in a way I didn’t expect. “I thought you might wear this to the next home game. It only seems fair. Mav already has one beautiful lady cheering for him.”
Her lips poke out then twist. “I don’t think he’ll like you poaching his fans.”
“He’s got plenty of fans. I’m just getting started in a new town.”
“You’re not doing too bad. I noticed you talking to a group of girls after the game.” She slants those pretty blue eyes up at me.
Could that be a hint of jealousy in her tone? I decide to put a pin in it.
“What do you say?” I rest my hand on the door jamb above her, hanging on the edge of my seat for her answer.
Her eyes scan my chest quickly, moving up my arm, before quickly returning to the jersey, a touch of pink in her cheeks. “I think I can do that.”
A laugh huffs through my lips, and I take a step back, feeling like a weight has been lifted off my chest. “Okay, then.”
She might not have said she accepted my side of the story, but I take this as a promising sign.
Of course, our next four games are on the road.
Time is moving fast. The season is in full swing, and we’re playing at least three games a week, sometimes more.
I’m starting to understand the cousins’ call for dedicated nights to spend together, and with October winding down, I’m looking forward to finally having a game at home.
As we warm up on the ice, my eyes go to the spot where the girls always sit. A crowd is gathered at the glass to watch us stretch and hopefully catch a puck.
We won all our games on the road, most involving killer plays, a trip that resulted in a slap shot, a high-risk pinch that had me on my stomach sliding it through the goalie’s legs. Mav and I are on all the highlight reels, and it’s turning into Atlanta all over again.
Fans have started doing a hand signal that’s a combination of the G and the M in American Sign Language. Basically, it’s a fist with the thumb under three fingers for the M that they shake into a point for the G while chanting Gav and Mav.
After a while it’s impossible to know if they’re doing the G first or the M, and of course my number-one supporter Maverick Murphy likes to insist they always start with the M.
Either way, we both toss pucks for it.
I’m in a lunge, stretching my hamstrings, when I look up to see Gigi and Haddy setting up at their designated seats behind the glass. Adrenaline spikes in my veins, and I hop to my feet so I can skate closer.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her in almost a week because of our schedules, but I lap the rink before going straight to them. I don’t want to seem too eager. Still my eyes are fixed on her body.
She and Gigi are both in tight black pants and long-sleeved white turtlenecks under their sweaters, and from the front they look identical with the Champions logo on the front.
Chewing my lip hard, I cross center ice, moving in their direction, when Haddy turns around to put her jacket on the seat behind her, and I see a big Number 5 peeking out from beneath her hair.
“Yeah,” I laugh, picking up speed and skidding to a hockey stop in front of them.
It only creates a small spray, but I’ve got a puck in my hand. She straightens, and before she turns around, she sweeps her long, wavy hair into a high ponytail revealing the massive Knight across her shoulder blades. Fuck yeah.
She turns around, and her eyes land on mine through the glass. They sparkle blue, and her lips press into a tight smile that makes me laugh again. I hold up the small, black biscuit, and she steps forward to catch it from me.
I toss it gently, and she catches it, waving it at me and giving me a wink.
We’re going to win this one.
Colorado’s team is killer, and for the first half of the game, nobody scores. They got close on us several times, but Saxon and I are strong defenders. If I’m not there, covering Akers, I know he is, and vice versa.
In the second half, we come out strong. Mav almost has it, when a defender swipes his skates, sending him to his stomach.
Still, he flips the puck and nearly makes it past the goalie’s mitt.
A fight breaks out as a result, and Mav is landed in the sin bin for two minutes, which is bullshit, since their D-man clearly tripped him.
The clock is beating down, and we’re moving fast. I look up to see a Colorado winger coming down the boards, and it’s go time.
Heading straight for him, I know Sax will cover my spot. I’m tight on the guy, sending my stick through his skates and scooping the puck right out of his possession. Mav’s ready, and I slap it to him, but it hits another player’s skate and flips into the air.
Without hesitation, Mav bats it with his stick, and it flies straight past the goalie’s head into the net. The stadium erupts, and we’re finally on the board.
It’s 1-0, and we just have to hold them a little longer.
But Colorado didn’t come here to lose. These guys are beasts, and I’m slammed into the boards more than once. Another fight breaks out, this time landing one of the Cliffs players in the penalty box, which I guess is meant to make up for the previous, lousy call.
I glance over at the girls to see they’re on their feet, clutching their hands. Haddy is hiding her eyes, which makes me chuckle, and I get checked into the boards, which wakes me up.
No more distractions.
We’re in the third period, and the Cliffs are going for a tie. I’m guarding their left wing when the center shoots through the middle. Saxon stays with him, but at the last minute, the guy does a hockey stop, a skip, turn, and shoots the puck right past Akers.
Shit. We’re all frowning as we glide into formation. The clock runs out, and it’s sudden-death overtime.
Mav’s jaw is set, and he skates up to me. “You know what to do?”
I nod, and it’s time to pull out the move we perfected in Georgia. The Cliffs have the puck, and their left winger is bringing it down the boards.
“Come to Papa,” I say under my breath, skating towards him fast, until I’ve scooped the puck away from him and shoot it over to Mav.
Mav shifts into lightning speed, scooping it out and running it down center ice to the goal. I’m headed back as well, and he shoots it across to me, catching their defender off guard. I bring it around behind the net, and send it back to Mav, who immediately slaps it past the goalie for the win.
“Boom!” Mav yells, spinning around to grab my shoulders and giving me a shake that makes me laugh.
“Tic-Tac-Goal!” Donovan shouts, grabbing Mav around the ribs and playfully slamming him against the boards as Saxon sails past us on his stomach.
The stadium is on their feet cheering. I’m a sweaty mess, but I glide over to where the girls are doing the G-M sign with their hands over their heads.
I put two fingers to my lips as if to blow a kiss, which I turn into a point at Haddy.
She points back at me, and I’m too fucking happy to care how it looks.