Chapter 37
JAMIE
It’s the first game since I saw Felix and Veikko kiss.
Since this time last week, I’ve lost my virginity, had sex with Carmen three more times, and saw my roommates kiss. Did some kind of galactic anomaly happen that unknowingly transported me into an alternate universe? Shit, nothing feels real anymore.
I’m not complaining about the sex with Carmen, though. That feels unreal in a very, very good way.
Not that seeing Veikko and Felix kiss was a bad thing, either, necessarily. I just … have absolutely no idea what to do with that knowledge. I haven’t told anyone. I can’t. I haven’t told either of them that I saw, either.
They’re still not talking. But I don’t sense the same animosity between them that they’d been giving off for the past couple weeks, either. Things seem to be in a strange limbo between them.
I guess we’re about to find out how it affects their playing together.
That question isn’t the only thing that makes this particular game special.
Carmen is in the crowd tonight.
I asked her to come to my game, and she agreed. Maybe she’s starting to feel the same way I’ve always felt, about wanting our relationship to actually be a relationship. Maybe.
I’m going to have to work up the courage to talk to her about it sooner than later. Because the possibility of a real relationship with Carmen is worth any risk.
I look up and find her in the seats. My heart clenches, and the adrenaline already flooding my veins supercharges.
Determination beats through me as I take my position, preparing for the puck drop. Knowing that Carmen’s eyes are on me makes me want to play my fucking heart out tonight.
The ref releases his grip, the black disk hits the ice, and as fucking insane as this week has been, it all rushes out of my mind, and I lock in.
It’s the best game we’ve played in a while. I’m on fire. My reflexes are sharp, my passing is accurate, and I seem to have a sixth sense for sniffing out Michigan’s plays, inserting myself at just the right moment to disrupt them.
Veikko and Felix are playing … better together. Veikko plays a tad stiffer and more clumsily when the play brings us close to our goal, but it’s not like the disaster a couple weeks ago.
We’re up 2-0 by the time third period starts. Right before play recommences, I look up to Carmen’s seat, but she isn’t there. A pinch of disappointment twists inside me, but I easily shrug it off. She could be in the bathroom or going to get a drink. No big deal at all.
A couple minutes later, I’m controlling the puck. When I turn on my blades, my field of vision passes over where Carmen is sitting.
My jaw drops, and my brain skips like an old CD.
My mental stutter comes right while I’m handling the puck past a Michigan defender. He’s easily able to take advantage of my lapsed attention and snag the puck from me, racing off to our goal. He’s feet away from me before I even have the wherewithal to react.
We’re in a bad position to respond to a stolen puck, so he’s able to slide it past Felix and put Michigan on the scoreboard.
I shake my head, disappointed in myself.
Despite my blunder, 2-1 is the score on the board when time expires, and we walk away with a win. Coach gives me a mild tongue lashing, and the rest of the guys clown on me a bit in the locker room, but all’s well that ends well. My mind is somewhere else through it all, though.
I need to see Carmen. After all, she’s responsible for my screw-up out there.
I quickly trap her in my arms when I see her. She’s wearing something different than what she arrived at the arena in, and my eyes eat up the sight.
“Fucking hell, Carmen,” I say, huffing a laugh. “You have to warn me if you’re going to change into my jersey mid-game.”
It almost physically hurts to step away from her, but my desire to see my team’s logo on my girl’s chest narrowly beats out my desire to feel her pressed against me. Momentarily, at least.
I can feel the feral look burning in my eyes as I take in the sight. My cock is already twitching while I let my hands drop and say, “Turn around. Real slow.”
If she were in the mood to humiliate me, she could make me beg right now. I’d do it. I’d drop to my knees right here and beg her to turn around so I can see what I’m dying to see. No questions asked, and I wouldn’t feel an ounce of shame.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she obliges. I stifle a groan of satisfaction when I see my last name branded on her back. My heart thrums in my chest.
“Fuck, Carmen,” I say breathlessly, before gathering her back in my arms and pressing a kiss to her lips. “That might be the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
She giggles. “But I have to warn you next time?”
“When I noticed, my mind went blank, and I gave up the puck. I need time to prepare myself to make sure my brain doesn’t turn into mush when I see you in that.”
Her eyes roll. “Stop, you’re exaggerating.”
I shake my head. “Not a bit. Seriously. If you’re going to wear my jersey to a game, let me know so I’m not blindsided and lose the ability to think. At this point in the season, we need every win we can get.”
“It can’t really be that hot to see someone with your name on their back?”
“If it’s the right person …” my hands trace her curves. Curves that I’ve recently traced with my lips and tongue. “It is.”
A warm pink tint spreads over her cheeks. “Now I kind of wish I played a sport and could see someone wearing my name on their back. I wonder if it would have the same effect.”
“There’s been talk of adding a women’s hockey team to the sports program. You could try out.”
She huffs a laugh. “I’ll pass.”
One of my eyebrows arches. Playing college hockey probably isn’t the right move for Carmen, I’ll grant that. But I am getting another idea …