Chapter 46 Archangel
FORTY-SIX
ARCHANGEL
Seaborn is mostly handling Ktytor, but I am on the lookout to duck in if he needs it. So when Ktytor steals the puck again, trying for another breakaway, I rush him, sending the puck sliding down the wall toward the curve.
Wolfe comes out of the goal to retrieve the puck, while Ktytor puts on a burst of speed trying to beat him there. I drop to cover the goal. Not sure what I’ll do if Ktytor gets it.
The puck slings around the curve, and Wolfe and Ktytor get to it at the same time. Wolfe lowers his shoulder while sweeping the puck away from Ktytor’s reach and body checks him into the boards hard. Ktytor sprawls out on his ass, while Wolfe rockets the puck up to Ridgeway.
“Payback’s a bitch,” Wolfe calls out as Ktytor skates by.
“I am so turned on right now.” I groan.
Wolfe takes his place in the net. “Don’t worry, I’ll do the same thing to you later in bed.”
“Fuck. Don’t distract me.”
Ridgeway and Forest hate each other but have found a rhythm, and Forest splits going wide while giving Ridgeway the middle. At the last second, he passes, and Forest redirects the puck with the flick of his wrist, finding the net.
The whole team erupts.
But our celebration is short lived. We have forty-five seconds left. It’s enough time for them to still score.
Seaborn and I lock eyes and come to an unspoken agreement.
We’re doing this. It hits me that this will probably be my last minute of hockey ever, and it makes me emotional, but I don’t have time to focus on it.
The Monsters are furious after the goal.
Ktytor wins the face off and is not taking no for an answer.
He’s all over the puck, fighting for position and dominance.
Ktytor passes, then skates around the back of the net in a clear play to catch Wolfe off-guard. I dart over, deflecting the pass out of his reach before he can flick it into the net.
If looks could kill…
Seaborn gets the puck and takes it toward the other side just to run the clock out.
I stay next to the goal as the final few seconds count down, both to make sure the puck doesn’t get near the goal and because I need to hug him.
The clock hits zero, and Wolfe throws his hands in the air, letting out a deep whoop. He drops his stick and gloves then rips off his helmet before skating at me. I drop my stick and grab him, and he’s picking me up, kissing my cheek. I’m actually shocked at the restraint.
“History will say we were best friends and roommates,” I tease.
“Don’t make me propose right here if you don’t want me to mark my territory very publicly.” His eyes glint. He would have a fucking ring.
“If you’re smuggling a ring in there like Teddy smuggling hot dogs, I won’t even be surprised.”
He doesn’t have time to say anything else because the team crashes into us, and we’re carried in a wave to the middle of the ice.
Wolfe gets the trophy and brings it to me.
We raise it together.
Pictures are a whirlwind before the celebration carries on in the locker room. Wolfe grabs me, pulling me off to the side.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” I hold up both hands.
“What?” He looks at me confused. “We got the water.”
I realize Cox and Seaborn are standing there, each with a giant bucket of water. “Oh. My bad.”
“What did you think I was doing?” Wolfe asks.
“Nothing.” Because I am not going to tell him I’m going to be expecting him to propose all the time now. He’s gotten in my brain. “We need to do it before he catches us.”
Wolfe and I take one of the containers, and Cox and Seaborn have the other. We run up behind Coach Hawke and his assistant and dump, drenching them both.
Hawke turns around, deeply betrayed. “Is this Gatorade?”
“It’s water,” Wolfe says laughing. “We aren’t that mean.”
“Smell me.” Hawke holds up his arm.
“Oh shit…” Wolfe grits his teeth guiltily.
Cox starts laughing. “Blame the trainers. They said these two were water!”
“I need a fucking shower.” Hawke starts pulling stuff out of his pockets.
“Need help?” Cox asks.
“Don’t even fucking start here.” But Hawke is smiling.
“Let’s leave them to it.” I slip my hand in Wolfe’s.
Slowly, we change so we can go out. We’re in Vegas after all.
“Apologize to Ktytor for me. I feel a little bad.” Not really, but he’s going to have a shit night.
“I’m not apologizing! He didn’t when they won conference,” Seaborn scoffs. “I may have to apologize for the bruises Wolfe gave him, though.” He laughs. “You put him on his ass.”
“He shouldn’t have hit Archangel so hard.” Wolfe shrugs, clearly not sorry at all. “Fucker’s had it coming all season.”
“I know he has.” At least Seaborn knows who he’s with, but now more than ever, I want to see their dynamic together because on the ice, they are fucking mean to each other.
“We’re going on a double date during the break.”
“We’re not…coming out,” Seaborn says carefully. “I’m happy for your guys but—”
I wave him off. “I don’t care. You two don’t have to act like it or we can do something private, but I want to get to know him.”
Seaborn was our other best friend, after all. I wasn’t going to let whatever teams he and Wolfe ended up on change that.
“I think I can convince him. He’s coming home with me until the draft.” Seaborn really looks happy, and with everything going on with his dad, he deserves it.
“He coming out with us?”
Seaborn shoots me a look. “No shot. But if I’m lucky, he’ll still be awake when I get back to the hotel.”
Wolfe turns on me. “So much better to be on the same team so we can celebrate together.”
“Rub it in, asshole. You two better not get mad when I don’t stay out all night.”
Wolfe flicks his attention over to Seaborn for a moment before back to me, and he’s hungry. “I haven’t fucked my boyfriend in two weeks.”
“Don’t start, or we won’t be going out.”
He grabs my face, kissing me—absolutely starting something. “What shouldn’t I start, boyfriend?”
“You know.” I tilt my head back, parting my lips.
He dips his tongue into my mouth, letting me taste him. “Come shower with me.”
“We can’t here.”
“You can be quiet. Can’t you?”