Chapter 32
PENN
From the moment we hit the ice tonight, there was an energy in the air at the Fire Cats arena that indicated both the teams, and their fans, were out for blood.
I might’ve heckled Chad-dick a few days back about a Lions win being a sure thing tonight, but in reality, our teams are pretty evenly matched. We both have similar records for the season so far, currently sitting at second and third in our division. Really, it’s anyone’s game.
We’ve been fortunate to beat the Fire Cats in our last two match ups, but tonight they’re on home ice with Weatherby finally back on their roster. From the first minute of the game it’s damn clear they want the W badly…and will stop at nothing to get it.
“Watch it, you moron!” Fisher screams at a Fire Cats defensemen as he takes a slash at his ankles, not even pretending to try to go for the puck. Dick.
I look up, expecting to see the referee blowing his whistle, but the guy clearly took that cheap shot at Fisher when he knew the ref was looking the other way. It’s a dirty style of play that I hate—but one I should expect from these assholes, given how Weatherby’s always played.
I skate forward, driving my shoulder into the Fire Cats player and shoving him away from Fisher, who snags the puck. Another player is immediately on him, grappling for possession of the puck. Fisher dumps it behind the net, and we both skate to the edge of the ice to change lines.
“Go get ‘em,” I say to Noah before he hops over the wall for his shift on the ice. The first period is almost over, and nobody has scored yet for either team—but Noah’s a pro at finding the space he needs to score when the pressure is on.
“Puck me!” Fisher exclaims as he sinks down on the bench, mopping the sweat from his brow. “Those guys are playing like a bunch of animals tonight.”
I flop down next to him and grab my Gatorade. “You okay? That was a dirty hit.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Fisher smirks. “Just fuels my fire to hand their asses to them.”
“Tell me about it.” As I squirt Gatorade into my mouth, I glance over at the other team’s bench and find Chadwick’s eyes boring holes into me again. I haven’t been on the ice at the same time as him tonight just yet, but I keep catching him watching me like a creep.
Fisher follows my gaze and shudders when he sees who I’m looking at. “Dude, Weatherby’s looking at you like he wants to skin you alive and turn you into a punching bag—or passionately make-out with you. I’m honestly not sure which.” Fisher grins. “Possibly both.”
I laugh but keep holding Chadwick’s unwavering gaze, wondering what the hell his deal is right now. If he’s trying to intimidate me or something, it’s not working. Fisher’s not wrong, he does mostly just look like he’s a little obsessed with me.
“Knowing Chad-dick, it’s more likely he’s plotting how to put me out for the rest of the season.”
“Does he know Hazel came to watch you tonight?” Fisher asks, chuckling. “If he does, he might actually try to murder you out there.”
“I’d like to see him try,” I reply with a grin.
While my plan is to play a clean game and take the moral high ground, if Chadwick starts taking shots at me tonight…
well, I know I can take him in a fight if it comes down to it.
Which is more than a little satisfying, not gonna lie.
“Hazel would probably hate to see me fighting, though.”
“Nah, chicks eat that shit up. Boyfriend and ex-boyfriend throwing down on the ice over her while she watches.”
“Not Hazel,” I say with a shake of my head, but I smile to myself at how the word boyfriend sounds now that it’s no longer fake between us—we haven’t defined our relationship with those labels yet, but I like the thought of being her boyfriend, for real.
I can still hardly believe she’s here tonight.
When I skate back out on the ice for my next shift, I crane my head to see if I can spot Hazel up in the crowd of people in the arena—I have no idea where she’s sitting and I doubt her budget would stretch to any of the seats near the ice, so I scope the place out up high but don’t find her.
I wish she’d told me she wanted to come tonight—I would’ve gotten her a decent ticket.
I figured she wouldn’t want to be here at her ex’s home stadium, plus Ally had to work tonight so she’d have to sit alone.
But the fact that she surprised me by turning up out of the blue is pretty damn amazing, because the thought hasn’t escaped me that she came tonight not for her own sake, but simply to support me.
When I see her after the game, I’ll tell her what it means to me to have someone in my corner like this. But right now, I have a game to win.
Much of the second period continues like the first did—I manage to avoid Chadwick for most part, giving him a wide berth when we’re on the ice together, but the game is overall still rough, much more physical than an average regular season game.
Despite the numerous penalties that result in power plays for both teams, at the bottom of the second, the score is still 0-0.
We trudge into the locker room, sore and tired. Coach Anderson gives us a pep talk that mostly consists of yelling at us to get our heads in the game and focus for twenty more minutes to lock this one in. Honestly, it works.
When the whistle blows and I hit the ice again, I’m full of renewed energy and focus, determined to push through the fatigue to help my team win this one.
And show off for Hazel a little, of course.
I skate fast after one of the Fire Cat’s forwards and neatly steal the puck from him, then pass to my teammate Carver, who’s in front of me. He passes to another teammate on the left, but the whistle blows and it’s called offside.
Carver skates forward to take the faceoff for us, and I get ready, crouching back to one side so I can pounce on the puck if it gets snapped in my direction.
“Hey, Matthews, having fun?” Chadwick’s slimy voice shatters my mushy thoughts about Hazel, and I look to my right to see him crouching in position nearby.
“I was, until about…oh, a second ago.”
“Always with the jokes there, aren’t you?” Chadwick smiles wickedly. “Be careful with those around Bethany later, she doesn’t really appreciate your style of humor.”
Bethany? As in… Hazel’s mom?
I look over at Chadwick in confusion before I can school my expression into submission and he tuts. “Oh, Penn. Did she not tell you?”
Don’t rise to his bait. Don’t rise to his bait. Don’t rise to his bait.
“Tell me what?” I blurt. Dammit.
“Why don’t you look for yourself?” Chadwick smirks and points at the glass behind the Fire Cats bench. “She’s right over there. Our families are sitting together.”
I turn my head and immediately see Hazel in the Fire Cat’s section, smack in the middle of the front row.
No wonder I didn’t spot her before…that’s the last place I would have expected her to be.
She’s wearing an aqua jersey, which looks adorable on her, and despite the confusing place she’s sitting, I crack a smile…
until I see Walter Weatherby next to her.
I haven’t seen the man in years, not since Chadwick and I played in high school together, but one look at him has my blood boiling with anger.
He looks like the same smug prick he always did.
On the other side of him stands his wife, Prudence Weatherby, who might be the only person on Planet Earth who can look like they have a stick jammed up their ass while dressed in a neon orange and red hockey jersey.
I recognize the couple on Hazel’s other side—from photos in her apartment—as her parents, and they’re both also wearing orange and red Fire Cats jerseys. With Weatherby’s number on them. Just what any guy wants to see when laying eyes on his new girlfriend’s folks for the first time. Not.
Chadwick watches me take in him and Hazel’s families with a delighted smile.
“Aww, Matthews, didn’t she tell you she was coming to Sacramento to hang out with our families while they’re in town?
Old family friends who love getting together to watch a game live, spend some quality time together, you get it…
” His tone turns razor sharp, loaded with vitriol.
“Oh no, wait, you don’t. Because you don’t have a family who come to your games.
Or at least they didn’t until your dad showed up at the championship game and you guys got ar—”
“Shut. Up,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
Why wouldn’t Hazel tell me she was coming tonight because her parents are in Sacramento? I’d love to meet them, officially introduce myself and tell them what an incredible daughter they’ve raised—but I could’ve seriously done with a heads up so I wasn’t blindsided.
“Well, at least you have Hazel here wearing your team’s jersey.” Chadwick winks at me. “For now, at least. I got a notification that she checked into our hotel suite earlier already, and I’m thinking that ugly Lions’ jersey will look a whole lot better on the floor later…”
A haze of red gathers in my vision. Everything inside of me wants to punch him in the face. Make his teeth clack together and his head snap backwards, just to shut him up for a few damn seconds.
But then I turn to look back at Hazel in the crowd again. She’s standing there, her hands clasped and her eyes wide. As our eyes meet through the glass, a sudden sense of calm finds me through the rage swirling inside.
Looking at her, my anger quickly cools down, and I’m hit with a sudden clarity that no matter what Chadwick is saying to me right now, I can trust her.
No matter why she’s here tonight, Hazel is kind and dependable…she’s the best person I’ve ever met. I care about her, and I know she cares about me, too.
“Did you not hear me, Matthews?” Chadwick prompts.
I jerk my eyes away from Hazel to look over at him.
He’s smirking, eyes gleaming. “I just told you your girlfriend’s checked into a hotel suite with me tonight, and you’re just standing there!
Not like you to accept defeat this easily.
At least last time you actually tried to fight for your girl…
although we both know that was a losing battle for you… ”
As Chadwick continues to heckle me, the impossible calm that Hazel’s presence brought continues to grow.
Chadwick wants to make me angry and jealous—this is the big ace up his sleeve.
He’s orchestrated this whole situation as an attempt at a grand gesture to win Hazel back, and right now he’s trying to goad me into attacking him, so I look like a total asshole in front of Hazel’s family.
He was convinced I’d live up to the Matthews family name in front of his highbrow parents who witnessed everything that happened before our high school championship game.
If only they knew that growing up, I dreamed of a family who loved and wanted me.
So when my dad showed up at the school that night, I actually let myself believe he was there to wish me luck before watching me play.
I was excited to make him proud—an idea that’s laughable now—but the moment he opened his mouth, I realized he wasn’t there for me.
He was there for a favor. I had a hockey game to play and a team relying on me, but my dad told me he needed me.
Telling me as his son, I should have his back.
He’d never called me son before.
Hearing that word led me to make the biggest mistake of my life, because I was desperate to earn my dad’s love and approval.
But this isn’t high school anymore—this is real life. My chance to prove I’ve learned from my past mistakes and changed.
So instead of doing what Chadwick’s expecting me to do, I roll my shoulders back and focus on the puck.
My pulse hammers with the thrill of not falling into Chad-dick’s trap.
I huff a laugh to myself, knowing I’m the bigger person here.
I’ve changed. I’ve grown and matured…and Chadwick clearly hasn’t.
He’s the same prick he always was, a man who’s grown up to be just like his dad… but I’m nothing like mine.
My gaze moves back to Hazel for a moment, and she gives me a nervous smile. Her presence is all I need. When the whistle blows, Carver wins the puck. I snag it a second later, determined to win this game and get it over with already so I can go hug my girlfriend.
Yes, girlfriend. Because screw seeing how it goes—I already know she’s everything to me.