3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Preston
The puck hit my stick with a satisfying crack as Emmett’s perfect pass found me at center ice. Time slowed, like it always did in these make-or-break moments, and I could feel him watching me from the goal—the weight of his stare following my every move. I had to make this count.
Dante Costa, our rookie, flanked my right side, forcing the other team’s defender wide.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Emmett adjusting his stance, ready for their counterattack. He always knew what was coming before anyone else did. Always one step ahead.
I wasn’t on my game tonight. But with him watching me, I did my best. I veered left, the opposing center buying the fake out hard enough to stumble.
The crowd’s roar faded to white noise as I threaded between their defensemen. This was the kind of play my best friend Lucas and I had practiced countless times in empty rinks, staying late after everyone else had gone home. Just us and the ice.
But tonight, I was off. The puck felt wrong on my stick as I pushed forward, my usual confidence replaced by gnawing uncertainty.
When their defense stepped up to challenge me, I hesitated a fraction too long. The hit came from my blind side, driving the air from my lungs as I slammed into the boards.
The whistle blew as I groaned, the roar of the crowd crushing my head.
On my knees, I caught Emmett’s concerned look from the far end of the ice. He’d known I was going to blow that play before I did. The same way he seemed to know everything about me lately—except the one thing that mattered most.
I pushed all thoughts of this morning out of my mind and contemplated laying on the ice forever.
“Get your head in the game, Ledger!” Coach Rinaldi bellowed from the bench.
Right. The game. Not Emmett. Not Molly in the stands with Henry. Why was I even noticing her? That was confusing as hell. My thoughts were all over the place, but I needed to focus on the game.
Hockey. Just hockey. I could do hockey. But I needed to get my shit together.
I pushed to my feet, ignoring the ache in my ribs. We were down by one in the second period, and I was playing like a rookie with a crush. Or two crushes, if I was being honest with myself. Which I wasn’t. Not tonight.
Logan McNair bumped my shoulder as we lined up for the faceoff. “You good, Edger?”
“Never better,” I lied, settling into position.
The ref dropped the puck and this time I didn’t think.
Just played. The way I would be playing if I hadn’t found Emmett’s X-rated book with two men on the cover.
I accidentally discovered it this morning, and for the first time, I could believe I had a chance with him.
But I couldn’t think about that, or how Molly’s eye rolls and pink cheeks made something twist in my chest.
Maybe that’s why I didn’t see that hit coming until it was too late.
Fuck.
I still couldn’t concentrate. I needed to pull it together.
I missed a pass from McNair and didn’t even have the heart to argue when Coach pulled me for the rest of the period.
The buzzer sounded, and I swallowed the urge to rage. I was off my game. Disappointment flooded me, but I pushed it down. I had slipped into the role of the Instigator’s golden boy. The one who all the fans loved and wanted—not conceited, just a fact.
I couldn’t throw a fit on the ice.
Letting the last threads of anger fade from my face, I skated onto the ice and found Lucas.
My best friend was across the rink, waving to the stands, blowing kisses.
My eyes followed his line of sight. There was his little sister Molly, still holding baby Henry, and looking absolutely adorable.
The baby, that is. Henry’s cheeks were all rosy, his eyes wide as a gummy smile scrunched his cheeks.
He looked like he had just woken up from a nap and the reaction to seeing his dad on the ice was enough to melt the whole arena.
I wanted that. Not necessarily tomorrow, but I wanted a family of my own. Lucas had gone about it a little differently than how I would have, and I wasn’t exactly a fan of his girlfriend, but the way he lit up, his grin matching Henry’s as he waved and tapped on the glass was enough to crush me.
None of my decisions this far in life had led toward starting my own family.
Far from it, actually. I thought about the three women who had slipped me their numbers before the game.
I could call any of them—or all three—and have a night that would effectively push all these feelings far from my mind.
And the feelings for Emmett I was having more and more trouble concealing.
I hugged him after our successful first period, and it wasn’t like we were totally hands off, but I had to rip my arms away from him before I held on too long. We lived together. I needed to get that shit under control or he’d find out, freak out, and kick me out.
Way too many outs. I needed an in.
But I didn’t have one.
Skating over to Lucas, I pressed my hand to the glass and made a silly face at Henry. He kicked his little legs out as Molly held his back to her chest. She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder effortlessly and looked so good holding him. Maybe she’d look good holding my baby.
What in the actual fuck?
No.
That was insane.
What was I even thinking? Did men have biological clocks?
Was mine ticking? Was I running out of sand in my hourglass?
I was only 27. I had plenty of time to focus on my career now and start a family later.
So why was I looking at Molly like she could give me everything I wanted?
If I was going to start a family and eventually have kids, it couldn’t be with Molly.
I watched her grow up next door. At first, she was my best friend’s annoying as hell little sister.
Then Lucas’s parents went through a gnarly divorce and he told me she would be tagging along whenever we hung out.
At first, I was mad and thought she was going to cramp our style—I was young and dumb.
The first time she beat me at Mortal Kombat and laughed at me, I was hooked. Partially on beating her at everything I could. Partially on hearing that laugh as many times as I could. The competition between us had settled down after a while, but I still ached to hear her laugh as often as possible.
Not good. I shouldn’t be aching over anything to do with Molly Tyler.
I made another face at Henry and was rewarded with the bright light of Molly’s smile and a flare of annoyance behind her hazel eyes as she shook her head at me.
I grinned and blew her a kiss, to see just how much I could annoy her.
I’d already done it once at the end of the first period and was delighted to see a second round of teasing had a compounding effect on her irritation.
She rolled her eyes, but the women next to her—one looked vaguely familiar, like a woman who had slipped me her number before the game—fanned themselves and made hearts with their hands. I made a heart—or something like a heart—with my gloved hands and Molly rolled her eyes harder.
An ache settled low in my stomach as I thought about how much I missed her. Even though I saw her a lot, I missed how things used to be.
We grew up and went separate ways when Lucas and I left for college.
He hadn’t wanted to leave her behind, but she made me promise her I’d do whatever it took to get him out of Vancouver for at least a few years.
We were in our senior year when the Instigators scouted us and—having fulfilled my promise to Molly—we came back.
I blew a raspberry at Henry and my eyes landed on Molly. She was staring over my shoulder, a flicker of sadness marring her smile for the briefest second.
Something was wrong, but the look passed so quickly, I wondered if I’d only imagined it. But a feeling like something was off nagged at me. She caught me looking and fixed her face into a smile that didn’t fool me.
It had always been like that with us. In tune with each other.
Once Lucas and I were back in Vancouver, it was like no time had passed at all.
For a long time, we were a quartet—me, Molly, Lucas, and her friend, Juliet—but Juliet found Romeo, Lucas found Rebecca, and the two of us kind of drifted apart.
I missed seeing her all the time. Molly insisted she wasn’t outgoing or that exciting, but I disagreed. Or maybe I was one of the lucky few that got to see a different side of her.
Tonight was confusing the shit out of me. This was Molly. And I regretted some life decisions. That was all. Sure, we had a great connection, but it was platonic. Strictly platonic.
Lucas bumped into me as he cupped his hands over his mouth. “Meet me at the locker room. I’ll get Henry from you.”
Molly nodded and bit her lower lip. A warm tingle shot up my spine and I pressed my hands to the boards.
What was wrong with me?
Her brother was right next to me, and I didn’t have feelings for her. None at all. I needed to get laid. That was why her biting her lip made me want to climb the plexiglass.
I would call one of the women. There was one that was cute, blonde and bubbly, like Molly. I could invite her to my bed tonight and have a great time, keeping my friendship with Lucas intact.
Yeah. I had to do something, or I was at risk of losing one—or both—of my closest friends in one night.
I skated off the ice with Lucas, both of us silent as we shuffled to the locker room and stripped out of our uniforms. The rest of the room was lit up, excited from the win, but I didn’t really feel like I was winning right then, and I had done nothing to bring us the victory.
“Meet you at home?” Emmett asked, his dark hair slicked back, and his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder.
I nodded, not sure I could speak to him without asking him about the book.
My arms ached to wrap around him again. But when could I do that?
The next game? If I just told him how I felt, I could put myself out of my misery.
But if I didn’t tell him, I’d never get rejected.
And as bad as this unrequited pining felt, I knew I would never recover from his rejection.
My thoughts were so heavy, I barely said goodbye to the rest of my team. Walking out alone, I played with the numbers in my pocket.
I could pick one randomly.
Or I could go for the one who looked like Molly.
Or I could go home and have a beer with Emmett and talk about the game, or whether he was into men.
No. I couldn’t do that.
But I needed to do something. I needed to get out of there and find somewhere I could think straight.
I was about to leave. The exit door was so damn close, but I turned a corner and heard crying. I wasn’t about to leave someone in tears, even if there was a possibility the other team had some fans who couldn’t handle a loss.
I sucked in a breath and pushed my problems out of my mind. If someone needed help, I couldn’t ignore them just because I was being a big baby about my love life.
“All good over here?” I called, rounding the corner as I plastered a smile on my face.
The last person I expected to see looked up at me with big, watery hazel eyes, and I dropped to my knees next to her.