Chapter Five
Rip
He’s not gonna show.
First on the ice, getting a feel for it under my skates, I sped around the rink perimeter, all the while keeping an eye on the lower bowl of the arena.
Family members gathered, and the press were up in the boxes getting ready.
Part of my contract was a pair of prime seats, which I always gave to Neil for whenever he and Lisa could make the game.
Tonight I’d left one for Adrian, but now it was closing on six thirty, the arena was filling up with fans, and he was nowhere to be seen.
Time to give practice my full attention. Seb and I passed the puck between us, then Peter and Chitty and Andre Newland, another defenseman, joined, and we did a two-on-two, racing toward Denis waiting in front of the goal. Seb passed the puck to me, and I smacked it, but it sailed wide.
“Quelle dommage, mon amour.” Denis grinned. “Perhaps your pretty young friend is too much of a distraction, eh?”
“Fuck off and shut up. Why’re you so interested in my love life?
Pay attention to your own.” And then I saw Adrian, an usher beside him, making his way carefully down the steps to his seat.
He scanned the ice, stopping when his gaze landed on me.
“And for your information, Adrian’s filling in for Louie Rozner, who’s hurt.
Get your facts straight and your mind out of the gutter. ”
I left him and skated to Adrian. “You made it.”
“Yeah, there was traffic. I—thanks for the ticket. I’ve never been to an NHL game, only the ones you and Neil played in college.”
“Whole different animal. It goes fast, and you might not pick up on everything, but we can go over it afterward. You are having dinner with me.”
It wasn’t a question, but Adrian nodded. “Uh, yeah. And I went through stuff with Louie, so he gave me things to look for.”
“Rip.”
Coach had taken the ice, and I gave Adrian a quick smile. “Enjoy, and meet me in the locker room.”
I didn’t wait for his answer, speeding to Coach, who waited with a frown.
“This is hockey practice, not The Dating Game.”
The hot flush of embarrassment rolled through me at everyone’s snickers. “Sorry, Coach. He’s with Channel 8, taking Louie’s place. I just wanted to make sure he had what he needed.”
“I’ll bet,” Denis murmured. “If not now, then later.”
I spun to face him. “Fuck you. I’m getting sick and tired of your snide comments, Denis, so drop it.
Now.” Almost nose to nose, I glared at him, wondering how love could turn so quickly to…
what, exactly? I couldn’t say I hated him, but this was no longer the man who’d set my heart on fire. All I felt was sadness.
“Of course. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s good to have a friend in the press.”
“Enough, you two,” Coach growled, and even Denis shut the hell up and listened. “If you can’t play together, neither of you will play at all. Got it?”
Coach gave zero fucks about our personal lives. We were being paid to play hockey, not have a therapy session about our breakup.
“Yes, sir,” I assured him with a steady gaze. “I’m ready for a repeat of our last game. Another win, and not only that. We want to be on top of the division and get home-ice advantage for the playoffs. Right, everyone?” As team captain, I took the job of engagement seriously. “Let’s do it better.”
The Miami Manatees had taken the ice on the opposite side of the rink, and I eyed them as they practiced. They were a solid team and would be looking to even the score from the last time we’d faced off.
Coach ran us through the plays, and we lined up to listen to the national anthem.
We took our places on the ice, and I faced their center, Joe Carney, for the puck drop.
I blocked out everything else—Denis, the pain of being so easily replaced, and even Adrian sitting nearby. I gripped my stick and waited.
Our sticks battled, but Carney took control, and we were off.
He slapped the puck to his defenseman, but Seb was there and the two battled for control.
Seb flipped the puck to Chitty, and he spun around and sent it flying past center ice, where I took it and sped toward their goalie.
I readied my stick to take the shot when my ankle was hooked and I fell flat on my face.
“What the fuck was that?” I yelled, jumping up, facing Hooten, a grinning rookie defenseman, as the whistle blew.
“Oops, my stick slipped.”
The ref pointed him to the penalty box, and though I itched to punch the smirk off Hooten’s stupid face, I refrained, knowing it would send both benches into a free-for-all.
My team swarmed me.
“You okay?” Peter asked, his eyes blazing. “Fucking dickbag.”
“I’m fine,” I assured them all. “Let’s make the most of them being a man down.”
I could hear Coach shouting, and knew what we had to do. Capitalize on the penalty and score on the power play. Which we did, to the roar of the crowd.
The game was tough and physical. I got in a few unchecked elbows, and when we fought against the boards, punches were thrown.
I ended up with a bloody nose and blows to my ribs that would ache for days.
Yeah, I got tossed into the box, but we were leading 3-1, so it was worth it.
Assholes had to learn they couldn’t take a cheap shot without repercussions, especially at me.
Hooten had the puck and was heading directly to our goal, our defenseman flanking him.
They skated closer and closer to Denis, who came out into the crease, waiting.
As much as he’d hurt me, he was still one of the best goalies in the league and as fierce a competitor as us all.
Seb stuck his stick in front of Hooten, and though Hooten tried to elbow him out of the way, Seb was too much of a veteran not to know how to handle it.
The split second Hooten moved, Seb grabbed the puck and flicked it to Peter, who sent it sailing to me.
The crowd screaming, I took off toward the goal, Chitty on my flank and Andre hovering a foot away from me.
I passed to him, but with a Miami defenseman right there, he sent it back to me.
I took the shot, and the puck slid into the net. The goal light came on.
The team mobbed me, and I pumped my fist. Fifteen seconds left on the clock, and I knew we had the win under our belt.
The Manatees tried to argue Seb was offside, but that was total BS, and though they won the final puck drop, the game was over without them having a chance at a shot.
The arena was rocking as we skated off the ice.
I managed to catch a glimpse of Adrian, who sat in his seat, his gaze fixed on me.
I broke away from my team to skate to him.
“Come to the locker room in a bit. I have to shower, but I’ll let them know you’re cleared.”
Wide-eyed and face flushed, he nodded. “Great game.”
I gave him a cheeky grin and a wink. “I know.” I skated away and left the ice.
The locker room atmosphere was banging, and I sat to take off my skates, padding, and protective equipment.
“God, that feels good.” I rolled my shoulders. “Nothing better than taking all this off after a game.”
“Nothing?” Stripped to his protective jock and nothing else, a smirking Denis stood before me. “You must be very lonely, mon amour.”
I couldn’t deny Denis was gorgeous with all that flowing blond hair and his perfect physical shape—six feet four of pure sculpted muscle.
With startling clarity, I could recall his hard body pressed to mine, but the picture that remained indelibly burned in my mind was him with Gordie in the bed we’d shared.
A wave of sadness rolled through me, immediately replaced by one of anger.
“Actually, I’m happier than ever. Maybe you’re the one who has regrets, since you seem to be so focused on me and my personal life.” I slung a towel around my neck. “See you tomorrow.”
I left him standing and went to the showers, where I soaped myself and washed my hair. Naked except for a towel wrapped at my hips, I returned to the locker room and found Adrian waiting by the front door, his eyes darting everywhere. Thank God for Seb, who approached him with a smile.
“Adrian? I’m Seb, Rip’s friend. He’ll be right out of the shower. Come sit here by his locker.”
“Hey. I’m here.” I waved to him, and relief filled his face. Seb walked by his side on his way over. “Glad you found it.”
“Considering I was just here a few days ago, that’s not stretching my brainpower too far.”
“Ha-ha. Thanks, Seb. You guys didn’t meet the other night. Seb had to go home to his wife and kids,” I explained. “The girls are too little to come to games.”
“Unless we reach the finals, and then I told Jolie they’re gonna be here no matter what,” Seb joked. “I saw that interview. It was a good one, considering I heard you were a last-minute fill-in.”
Adrian remained hesitant. “Thanks. I know I made some mistakes, but I guess that’s part of the learning process.”
“Just like our rookie year. Gotta make the mistakes so you can improve and become the best.” Seb, whose locker was next to mine, opened the door and took out his clothes. “Rip tells me we’re gonna do an interview soon. Looking forward to it.”
Adrian’s eyes widened. “Oh, uh, wow, that’s great. I thought it was only going to be Rip, but yeah, thanks.”
Seb winked as he pulled his sweat pants on. “Two for the price of one, eh? Anything to keep the Blades in the media. See you tomorrow, Rip. Nice to meet you, Adrian.”
Seb finished getting dressed, and I dropped my towel and took my clothes from my locker.
I noticed Adrian’s red face, and when I caught him sneaking a peek at me, even though I’d promised myself and Neil that Adrian was off-limits…
damn, a guy could dream. He was hot as hell in his dark-wash jeans and blue shirt that made his eyes glow.
Coupled with all that thick, silky, sun-streaked blond hair, and whew…
I needed to get my mind out of the gutter.
I reached into my locker and pulled out a jersey.