17. Aiden
Chapter seventeen
Aiden
“ F uck,” I grunt, spitting blood as I haul myself up from the ice. Our opponents aren’t just playing hard—they’re out for blood. Each hit feels personal like they’re trying to carve their names into my bones. But they don’t know who they’re dealing with. I’ve been knocked down my whole life, and I always get back up.
But I can’t wait to ice myself down and fall into a soft bed. The only thing that would make it even better is having Aurora fussing over me like she has after a particularly grueling practice.
The thought of Aurora’s gentle hands and concerned eyes sends a jolt through me that has nothing to do with this game.
Christ, when did I start being all consumed by her like this?
The thought of her brings a smile to my lips and gives me a boost of energy. I’m not going to lie. Having her here would make this first away game even better, but I can comfort myself with the knowledge that we’re two goals ahead with only a couple of minutes left of gameplay. I shake my head, trying to dislodge thoughts of soft skin and warm smiles. I’ve got a game to win.
“Get your ass back in the game, Weller!” The shout from coach shakes me from my thoughts, and I push off the wall, ready to make my annoyance someone else’s problem. Even with our lead, I’m not comfortable just coasting into a win. I charge into the final minutes like a man possessed. Every muscle screams, but I push harder, faster. The puck becomes an extension of my stick, my body a weapon honed for this moment. I weave through defenders, their attempts to stop me barely registering. The goal looms ahead, a beacon in the chaos.
Seconds tick down. The crowd’s roar fades to white noise. It’s just me, the ice, and destiny.
The whistle pierces the air, sharp and final. For a heartbeat, everything freezes. Then it hits me - we’ve done it. Our first away game, our first away win.
A primal yell rips from my throat, part triumph, part release. I’m swept up in a tidal wave of teammates, all of us howling our victory to the rafters. In this moment, nothing else exists - not my father’s criticism, not my doubts, not even Aurora. Just pure, unadulterated euphoria.
“How does that win taste?” Tony asks as he clashes helmets with me. His grin is wide and manic, and I feel my own answer. Thrilling isn’t even the word to use. How I feel is beyond fucking compare.
“Tastes like fucking heaven, baby!” A win is a win, and I’m going to celebrate that shit hard with my team. We fought for this, and we succeeded.
When we’re back in the locker room, Jax slams a hand on my shoulder. “That last hit was clean as fuck. I guarantee that one is going on the replay cycle.”
“He fucked around and found out,” I agree with a sharp grin.
The aches and pains are nothing in the face of victory. That shit has me feeling higher than a good fuck.
It’s not until we’re back in our street clothes and the press comes around that I feel the first tendrils of dread. I’ve played a good game—great even—but I know exactly how the conversation will go with my father. I want to put that shit off as long as possible.
“Nah, you aren’t allowed to look like that when we won,” Sebastian says from beside me. He pulls his shirt over his head, making his hair stand up before bumping our shoulders. “The next twenty-four hours are all about celebrations and maybe some puck bunny ass. Whatever is making your face look like that can fucking wait.”
Jax catches my eye, and I know he can tell exactly what my long looks are all about. Jax knows all about my shit-stirrer of a dad. Hell, he’s been around for a couple of great examples of my father’s ‘A-plus’ parenting. My sour mood shouldn’t be a surprise to him.
“He’s right,” Jax speaks up. “We played hard, and we fought for this shit. No one is allowed to look like they sucked on sour patch kids for at least forty-eight hours.”
That surprises a huff of laughter out of me. “Forty-eight hours, huh?” I parrot with a raised eyebrow. “That’s the rule we’re going with?”
“For you? Yes,” Jax confirms with a firm nod. “Two games played; two games won. We’re on a fucking streak.”
I don’t think we can really call two games a streak, but I’m not about to argue with Jax when he looks that determined. And anyway, I don’t want to. I want to celebrate this win as much as the next fucking person, and I goddamn deserve to.
I take out my phone before I can have second thoughts and turn that shit off. I’m not foolish enough to think that will be enough to keep my father from making comments at some point, but I refuse to deal with his criticism right now.
Not when I’m in such a good mood. Plus, I refuse to let my shit bring down the rest of the team. If they want to celebrate, celebrate we will. I’m not about to be the fucking downer of the group. Not when we’ve come so far as a team.
It’s not until we’re all at a bar that I realize I’ve played right into Jax’s hand. The two of us have been volunteered to grab drinks for everyone at the table, though when Jax turns to me, expression serious in a way that isn’t familiar, I know it’s a trap.
“So, have you heard from your dad lately?”
I wasn’t expecting him to go straight in for the kill so soon. I guess he feels he’s given me enough time to relax, and now it’s time to get serious. I glance over my shoulder, making sure the rest of the team is occupied and not listening in on our conversation. I don’t need multiple people up my ass about my dad’s shitty ways.
“Yeah,” I concede. “I talked to him a couple days ago. Hadn’t planned on it, but you know how he is.”
“I do. That’s why I know he’s probably going to call you tonight if he hasn’t tried already.”
I shrug, trying to look nonchalant and unconcerned with the direction of the conversation. I know Jax isn’t bringing it up to be malicious, but I’m still not sure if I really want to go down this path. Jax is a brother, but my dad is a fucking landmine all on his own.
“Wouldn’t know. I turned off my phone when we got to the locker room.”
Jax nods. “Good. That was a smart move. You don’t need shit from him when we’re celebrating a good win. You don’t deserve that shit. You know that, right?”
I narrow my eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Nah. No guessing. I need you to know that shit, man.” Jax’s insistence has me tensing up, but not with anger. I’m not sure how I feel. It’s nice to have someone else acknowledge that I’m working damn hard, but I’m still not sure how to take it. It’s not the first time Jax has complimented me, but for some reason, it’s harder to hear it tonight. “I need you to know that your old man is full of shit.”
I raise my eyebrows. Jax has never come right out and said anything negative about my dad, at least not since we became adults. I look harder at him. “Have you been drinking before we even got here?”
He waves me off. “Fuck off, you know I haven’t. I just wanted you to know that people see you working damn hard. I see you working damn hard.” Jax claps a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been putting in the work, and people are noticing. Even the guys who gave you shit at first have been eating their fucking words. You’re proving everything I ever said about you right.”
“What have you been saying about me?” I ask before I can curb my hopeful enthusiasm.
“That you’re a damn good player and a damn good guy to boot. You’ve done nothing but support the team, and you’ve certainly proven you’re a fucking great roommate. I’m proud of you, brother.”
Warmth blooms in my chest at his words. I don’t know the last time someone told me they were proud of me. I try to brush those words off, but fuck if they aren’t just the balm I need on my fucking soul.
“Shut the fuck up,” I say, pushing Jax with my shoulder. His smirk is knowing, and I let him have it. I don’t have to voice my feelings for him to know I’m grateful.
For a moment, Aurora’s face appears in my mind, and for the first time, I wonder if she feels the same as Jax. I can’t ask him, though. I don’t need him wondering why I even give a fuck. Not when I’m trying to figure that same thing out myself.
“Hey there. Mind if I sit here?”
I turn when a feminine voice joins the conversation. The woman is attractive, with dirty blonde hair piled high on her head and the type of skin you just know would flush with exertion. She’s wearing a tight crop top and high-waisted jeans that showcase shapely legs.
Aurora’s look even better.
The thought is true, but I have to force it down. I shouldn’t be thinking about Aurora like that, especially when Jax is sitting right beside me.
I wave my hand at the stool next to me. “Feel free. It’s empty.” She smiles, and I instantly know what’s up.
“Thank you,” she replies softly before hopping up on the stool. She angles her body toward me, and I feel the strangest desire to lean away.
“I saw you all come in, and you caught my eye immediately. I’m surprised you didn’t have girls swarming in your direction as soon as you hit the bar.”
I shrug, not really wanting to encourage the conversation but not wanting to be rude either.
“It’s all good. Just here with some buddies, so not trying to go home with anyone tonight.”
She tilts her head to the side, lips turning down in a pout. “Oh? Well, that is certainly a disappointment. I would have loved to continue a conversation with you behind closed doors. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
Beside me, Jax snickers, but I don’t turn to look at him. I don’t need to see his surprise at me turning down an offer of falling between the sheets with someone who’s so obviously down for it. I’m shocked my fucking self, but I’m not the least bit interested. It’s not that she isn’t hot—because she’s a fucking baddie—but something about her doesn’t appeal to me.
“Sorry. Keeping to myself tonight.” I glance past her, where I can see some of our other teammates watching us with knowing grins. “But, if you like hockey, I’m sure one of my buddies over there would be more than happy to talk game with you.”
She glances behind her before turning and scowling at me. “I’m not that kind of girl who just hops from one guy to another, asshole.”
I shrug again. “Never said you were.” The conversation is clearly not going in a good direction, so I decide to end it before it escalates. Without another word, I turn back to Jax. “The drinks are taking longer than they should, don’t you think?”
Jax chuckles and shakes his head, and I hear the stool scrape against the floor. When I glance over, the woman is stalking away. She isn’t headed in the direction of our table, and I sigh in relief at not having to deal with her for the night. There’s nothing worse than someone pissed off about rejection.
“Well, that was a fucking surprise. It’s not often you turn down easy ass.”
Tonight’s been heavier than planned, and I need some time to think about things. Being uninterested in ass is one of them.
I sigh. “Easy gets boring after a while.”
Jax nods with a grin. “I suppose.” He pauses, giving me a look I can’t quite decipher. “Or maybe you’ve got your eye on someone already?”
I freeze, Aurora’s face flashing through my mind again. Fuck. How did shit get so damn complicated?
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