Chapter 30 #2
And that was when it got ugly. Their checks got harder, their shots more desperate, frustration turning their plays reckless and mean.
They started targeting Hailey exclusively, their eyes tracking her movements with predatory focus.
I recognized the look in their eyes, and the way their stance shifted—the one that said they'd rather break her than admit she was an overall better player than they’d ever be.
Something cold and furious settled in my chest. Not under my fucking watch, you bastards!
So, when Derek charged in with his shoulder aimed at her ribs, I slid between them, absorbing the crushing impact that would have sent her into the boards. The pain bloomed across my side, but I caught her slight nod as she skidded past, her eyes behind her face cage glinting razor sharp ice.
My heart slammed itself against the shelf of my ribcage at the electric eye contact. Fuck.
Get your head in the game, Summers! I bit down on the inside of my cheek, keeping my focus lasered on the game. I could simp in peace after this damned match. Hell, I’d replay the entire thing, play by play, in my dreams.
Yeah, later .
After that failed attempt, the damned bastards tried isolating her again, Brad circling wide while Derek drove straight in, but I read their play in the tension of Brad's shoulders, in the way Derek's eyes flickered left and; before they could execute their trap, I was there, shoulder-checking Brad off his trajectory so that Hailey danced away from Derek's grasping reach.
“Tch!” Derek spun on me, “You bastard, what are you, her fucking support?” He growled, and I scoffed.
“Yeah? And what’s so wrong about supporting her so she can single-handedly kick your asses?” I shot back, dogged on his heels. “I never said I was the one who was going to be scoring all the goals, asshole.”
Hailey, silent and fast as a blizzard, cut behind me, her movements were precise, calculated—a stark contrast to their brute force attempts.
When Brad tried circling behind the net for a wrap-around, thinking he'd caught her in a vulnerable position, she didn't even flinch.
She cut off his angle with the same cold efficiency I'd come to admire, while I stripped the puck from his stick.
The pass back to her was instinctive, tape-to-tape. I could feel her reading the ice the same way I was: seeing Brad's weight shift, predicting Derek's overcommitment. We both knew what came next before it happened.
And then, it did. Derek overcommitted, charging at Hailey like a bull seeing red. She pivoted at the last second, her edges carving precise arcs as she let his momentum carry him past. The puck was already moving, sliding between his legs to where she knew—she knew —I would be.
I caught it clean, drew Brad in close enough to feel his breath, then sent it right back to her without looking. The pass shouldn't have worked—too quick, too risky—but Hailey's stick was there, like she'd read my mind, like she'd known my play before I did.
“Fuck!” Brad's curse echoed across the ice as Hailey deked once, twice, her hands impossibly quick. Derek tried cutting off her angle, but she'd already seen the opening he'd left. The puck hit the back of the net before either of them could blink.
3-0.
The roar from our side of the rink was deafening.
Both our teams were pressed against the glass, fists pounding in victory, but I barely heard them.
I turned to Hailey, grinning like an idiot, only to find her already skating toward me.
There was a fierce joy in her eyes I'd never seen before, something wild and triumphant that made me want to fall to my knees.
She’s so fucking cool , was the only thought ringing in my skull, over and over.
“Not bad for a girl, huh?” she said, loud enough for Derek and Brad to hear as they ripped their helmets off their heads. They had the sense not to say anything in return. At least, that was what I thought. I laughed, still riding the high of victory and perfect chemistry—and then I saw it.
The way Derek's shoulders bunched, the violent snap of his head, the raw hatred blazing in his eyes as he whirled around. Time seemed to crystallize into perfect clarity as he launched himself toward Hailey, like a rabid beast.
My body moved before my mind could catch up.
One moment I was watching; the next I was there, my hands fisting in his jersey as I slammed him down.
We hit the ice hard, his face meeting the frozen surface with a satisfying crack that ricocheted through the sudden chaos of screaming coaches and teammates.
“I told you I’d make you eat ice when you lose, didn’t I?
” The words came out hard, venomous, meant for him alone as I held him there.
“You don’t get to fucking breathe the same air as her,” I snarled, close enough that my words fogged between us.
“You sure as hell don’t get to put your hands on her. ”
He twisted under me, snarling, swinging wild, but I caught his fist midair and drove mine into his jaw.
Cartilage crunched. Blood sprayed across my knuckles, hot against the cold.
He spat red, tried to rise, and I hammered him again—my fist smashing against his cheekbone until I heard the crack, sharp and sickening.
His head whipped to the side, blood sluicing down the ice, and I almost went again just to hear it one more time.
“Next time Hailey even so much as looks at you, you fuck, you better kneel to her.” She was the only reason I wasn’t breaking every inch of his face right now.
There was something darkly satisfying about feeling him struggle beneath my grip, and no matter how much I wanted to break his face, I held myself back. This wasn’t my fight.
I released him and glided backward, watching as his teammates rushed to help him up.
Blood dripped onto pristine ice—from his nose or his lip, I couldn't tell.
Didn't care to look either. The rink had erupted into pandemonium, coaches shouting, players yelling, but all I could think about was if Hailey was okay.
I felt our Coaches’ rage before I heard it, as they stormed the ice, demanding an apology.
“Is this how you train your players to handle defeat?” Coach Hawkins hissed as the Riverside Rebels Coach raised his hands in a bid to calm everyone down.
“We will apologize, Coach Hawkins,” he said, even though his expression curdled as he said the words, as if he couldn’t believe they were coming out of his mouth. Like coach like fucking player.
“ Apologize? ” Coach Hawkins wasn’t having it. “That piece of shit literally just tried to bodycheck a woman outside of a game. Do you think a simple apology is going to cut it?”
Oh, but she was mad mad.
Now, their side of the rink was so gloomy, grey clouds would’ve been hanging over their heads if it were possible.
I focused my gaze back on Hailey. She was the only one that mattered to me right then. “You beat them fair and square. You’re incredible when you play, you know, like a force of nature.” I said, my tone easy, “Your play wasn't bad for anyone. Heck, it was hella good .”
So good, in fact, that I was packing a damn boner.
When she turned to look at me, it was as if what had just happened didn’t even faze her, because she flashed me the brightest, most uninhibited smile I’d ever seen.
And it stunned me dead. I swear to God it did.
Hailey seemed completely unaware of the havoc her smile was wreaking inside of me because she just punched my shoulder, but there was no heat in it. “You took some hard hits back there.”
“Worth it,” I said simply, because my brain couldn’t string sentences more complex than that. God, I'd take a thousand hits just to see her smile at me like that again.
As soon as we got out of the rink, our teammates piled onto us, their voices bouncing off the walls of the arena.
“Shit man, you okay?” Dylan asked, concern in his gaze and I arched my brow back at him.
“I’m not the one bleeding all over the damn ice. What do you think?” I said and he chuckled, his shoulders relaxing all at once.
“Those disgusting pieces of shit,” Matt’s eyes were narrowed and shining with barely restrained anger. “They keep looking for a fucking fight.”
“Nah, now they’re going to think twice about showing their face in front of Northgate University athletes!” Evan grinned at me, thumping me on the shoulder.
“Letting Baleman score all three goals against them was straight-up diabolical .” Logan laughed.
“It was her game.” I shrugged, my cheeks heating up despite myself. Shit, why the hellwas I getting embarrassed about this , of all things?
“Hey, Baleman!” Logan called out, and Hailey turned her head towards us, “you play a great game!”
The Belles rolled their eyes. “Of course she plays a great game, she’s our captain.” Gina said, smiling softly down at her.
And I probably shouldn’t have felt it, but a lance of sheer jealousy speared through my stomach as I watched Hailey return that smile, her face open and trusting, towards her vice captain.
Get a grip, Summers. I clenched my jaw once and turned away. I shouldn’t be getting greedy already. Even though I wanted her to smile at me again, I couldn’t be getting all prissy already like I owned her or something—
“Hey, Summers!” She called and, like metal to a magnet, I snapped my head up to look at her.
“Thanks. For having my back out there.” She said, her eyes twinkling with a light she’d never directed at me before: genuine acknowledgement.
Not annoyance, or irritation or even tolerance.
No, that look in her eyes told me one thing: that she was looking right at me, and she didn’t think I was a nuisance.
I literally melted.