Chapter 15
HAILEY
Ah hell, barely three days had passed since the practice schedules for both our teams were drawn up and I’ve managed not to cross paths with Lively in those three days—and yes, that was due to my efforts—but, damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that bastard for anything.
I’d asked him to maintain professionalism now that we were sharing the locker room and rink. And, fine, he’d said he would ‘try’. Granted, that wasn’t much of an assurance that he’d behave…but god dammit he wasn’t even trying right now.
Because, sitting in my locker, right on top of my hockey gloves, was a Snickers bar and a folded piece of paper with the words, ‘For You’ scrawled obnoxiously across the back in red ink.
It looked like a ransom note from some B-grade thriller movie, the letters sharp and uneven, with the red ink on the note so bright it might as well have been written in blood.
“Oh. My. God.” Gina’s voice came from behind me. “What the hell is that?”
Yeah, exactly. Wtf was this shit? Irritation already stirring in my gut, I didn’t even think twice before snatching up the note and flicking it open with my thumb.
Sweet, just like you, Cap. ;)
‘Cap’. There was only one person who called me that in that goddamn obnoxious way—
“That little shit.” Gina growled from over my shoulder as my eyes fluttered shut. “He’s picking on you again, isn’t he?”
“ Sweet, just like you ?” Dani’s disgusted tone came from over my other shoulder. “And what the hell is that handwriting? Oh my God, is this a serial killer note? That makes it even more creepy, the hell?”
“More like serial stalker ,” Zoe appeared at my side like a ghost, and it was then I realized that I was surrounded by my teammates, all of them craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the damn note.
But Zoe was after something more, because her quick as heck fingers darted forward, plucking the bag of candy from my lap before I could stop her. She dangled it in front of my face, her eyes lighting up with amused excitement.
“A Snickers bar?” She cocked her head to the side, brow arched, “Looks like our Captain’s got a secret admirer,” and that was definitely sarcasm, “He even knows your favorite, too.”
Yeah, there was no need to even wrack my brain to find out the bastard who’d done this.
Lively fucking Summers . This was his idea of being freaking professional?
What was he, five? And how the hell did he know that Snickers bars were my favorite?
Did Mallory tell him? That was the only possible answer here, seeing as they happened to be tight buddies.
Damn it, looked like I was going to have to put a gag order on my own sister before she sold all my secrets to my damn enemy.
“That little shit’s just trying to get under your skin, Hails,” Dani said, pulling her hair into a tight ponytail with sharp, efficient movements.
Zoe's eyes gleamed as she leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a theatrical whisper. "Or maybe he's trying to get under something else ," she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, her voice loaded with innuendo.
And, oh, did my teammates love that, because Sarah was quick to chime in with a, “Don’t you mean some one else?”
My lips curled down in a look of disgust so pure, it must have looked grotesque, because the locker room erupted in laughter—hoots and hollers bouncing off the walls.
Everyone but me joined in, their faces flushed with amusement at my expense, and damn if that didn’t piss me off.
But I decided not to show it. It wouldn’t look good to go crazy over an immature bastard’s stupid prank.
“Over my dead body, Zoe.” I said instead, snatching the candy back from Zoe's fingers and shoving it deep into my bag where it couldn't taunt me anymore. The plastic crinkled in protest, but my focus was singular.
I faced them. “If you all have enough energy to gossip,” I said, my voice quiet, but sharp as a freshly sharpened skate blade, “then that means you have enough energy to run extra sprints.
" I crossed my arms over my chest, my stance widening automatically into what Gina called my 'captain pose'—feet shoulder-width apart, chin up, the posture that brooked no argument. “Gear up. We've got work to do.”
And they all let out collective groans. “Ah shit,” Zoe groaned, regret blatantly carved into the worry lines on her face. “We’re so fucked, aren’t we?”
I just gave the sweetest smile I could conjure and said, “What do you mean? We’re here to practice, aren’t we?
” Even my tone was saccharine sweet and I saw the dawning horror settle on their faces one by one.
“What, did you think I busted my ass to get us the prime practice slots just so you could slack off?”
“Yeah,” Gina said, turning to look at Zoe. “We’re so screwed.”
“Ladies!” Coach Hawkins's sharp voice cut through our exchange as she pushed through the locker room door, clipboard in hand.
Her steely gray eyes scanned the room before settling on us with the force of a blowtorch.
“What's the hold up? Ice time is precious, and you're all standing around like this is social hour.”
I huffed out what could pass as a laugh. "That's what I was just saying, Coach. We're moving." I called back before turning to look at them. “Get moving.”
“Fucking Summers.” They were grumbling under their breaths, turning their ire on the idiot who’d caused this whole mess now that they believed I was going to ride so hard on their asses because of it. Good.
Soon, they began filing out of the locker room toward the ice, their grumbling fading as the distance increased, and I finally unclenched my fist. The note had been crushed into a tight ball, creased so thoroughly that it looked like it would never lie flat again.
Lips still turned down in distaste, I smoothed it out against my thigh, staring at the looping handwriting.
The letters were thick, bold strokes that took up more space than necessary—just like their freaking author.
What kind of game was he playing? Did he think he had any right to do shit like this simply because Mallory liked him?
What was he doing, leaving me candy like we were in middle school passing notes in class?
The guy couldn't take a hint if it rocked him in the freaking face.
I was literally one frayed thread away from socking him in the face, for real.
I stared at the note a moment longer, annoyance slithering through me.
Seriously, what kind of chicken shit handwriting was this?
Damn. With a disgusted sound at the back of my throat, I shoved the paper deep into my pocket where I wouldn't have to look at it anymore.
I'd ignore it. Ignore him. That's what you did with attention-seeking pests, right?
Deny them the reaction they so desperately craved.
"Baleman!" Coach Hawkins's voice echoed down the corridor. "I need my captain on the ice. Now!"
One hour and forty five minutes later, I was skating backward across the blue line, watching my team execute the drills Coach Hawkins called out from center ice.
"Dani, watch your left side!" Coach barked, her voice bouncing off the rafters. "Rina, I need sharper passes! You're telegraphing everything!"
We'd spent the entire time running through our usual warm-ups—passing drills, shooting practice, defensive formations—and I'd barely had time to remember why I was so damn pissed.
With the NCWCH qualifier games coming up by the end of next month, we totally couldn't afford any distractions.
Especially not distractions with dirty-blonde hair and blue eyes that seemed hell bent on ruining my damn week.
"Okay, line change!" Coach Hawkins shouted, blowing her whistle with enough force to make me wince. "First line, I want to see the power play setup we talked about yesterday."
Gina skated up beside me as we moved toward the bench, taking a long swig from her water bottle.
"You're quiet today," she said, her tone conversational, but I could hear the concern underneath; that tone that told me she was seeing right through to me.
Ah, damn it. "Usually you're shouting right alongside Coach. "
"Not much to say when she's already saying it," I shrugged, lifting my head to look Gina right in the eye. "Sarah's still hesitating on her shots, and Zoe's reaction time is off."
"And you're wound tighter than a spring." Gina bumped my shoulder, her lips curving up in a soft, understanding smile I totally did not like. "You know the note was just to get in your head, right?"
No, I really didn’t like the way she was staring at me like she could see right through me, or the fact that she was implying that Lively’s stupid prank had knocked me off balance so damn much that I was acting out because of it. I shot her a glare. "It's not in my head."
"Sure." Her smirk said otherwise. "That's why you've called out the wrong drill twice and checked the clock seventeen times in the last half hour."
What? I blinked at her as her words settled over me like a feather light blanket.
There was…There was no way that was true.
I mean…yeah, maybe I’d glanced at the clock once or twice since we started practicing, but it was definitely not because I was waiting for that bastard or anything like that!
I’d simply been…checking how much more time we had left of our session.
You know, so we could make the most out of it and stuff.
“No, I haven’t been…” I started to say even as my eyes flicked over to the clock hanging above our heads. I froze at once, realizing my gaffe. Ah, shit. Now, it just looked like she was right.
Gina’s eyebrow arched. “Uh huh.”
Teeth gritted, I ground out again, "I only looked that time because you mentioned it—" But before I could finish defending myself, the double doors to the rink swung open, and the Rink Runners started filing in.
Right on schedule for their practice slot.