RILEY #2
I spotted him as he snatched the puck from Caden and glided toward us.
Determination fueled my stride as I tracked him relentlessly, my eyes fixed on his every move.
Anger bubbled and welled within me. With a burst of speed, I closed the gap, feeling the adrenaline surge through my veins.
Then, with a perfectly timed hit, I delivered a bone-crushing check, sending him crashing into the boards.
The impact reverberated through the arena, drowning out all other sound.
In that moment, a mix of satisfaction and fierce rivalry coursed through me, fueling my desire to dominate the game.
“What the fuck?” Cameron staggered, his eyes wide with surprise and frustration.
A mix of anger and determination flashed across his face as he quickly regained his composure.
I could see the fire burning in his eyes, his competitive spirit refusing to be extinguished.
With a swift push, he propelled himself back into the game, his resolve unshaken.
It was a fleeting moment, but I sensed the simmering intensity, the unspoken vow to retaliate. But there was more to it.
The hurt look on his face had nothing to do with being crushed against the boards.
Those eyes were flashing with anger that wasn’t directed at his opponent.
I was soon filled with guilt that I bruised him so harshly for so little.
And though the instant passed before I could bat my eyelashes, it left a bitter coating in my mouth.
I spotted Coach Murray glaring at me after the incident. I hadn’t body checked him too harshly to get my ass sent to the sin bin, but we both knew I’d done it not because I had to, but because I saw an opportunity. He knew what I’d done.
Even so, as we skated after the puck, I could almost feel the pressure of my body against his, trapping his against the boards.
I’d shouldered him, but my need to assert dominance over Cameron Martinez was stronger than my reason, so I had turned and pushed him with the entirety of my torso.
Even under all the protective gear that bulked up our bodies, I could feel him.
My vicious mind supplied the memories right away; Cam, topless and sweaty, sitting at the edge of my bed, playing games silently while I watched his broad back and sweat-matted hair, feeling the tingling aftermath of our passion.
The scrimmage was yet another disaster in a long list of failures of the season. Coach was shaking his head at every turn and we wrapped up the scrimmage with Cameron’s team narrowly winning to my deep chagrin.
It wasn’t surprising that, after we all showered and dressed, everyone filed out except Cameron and me. Coach had marched into the locker room to invite us both to stay. Caden, as loyal as ever, had raised his hackles and offered to wait for me, but I sent him away. This was my shit to deal with.
Cameron and I shouldered one another at the office door with me taking the satisfaction in winning this round and walking in first. Coach Murray, however, seemed utterly defeated.
I stood shoulder to shoulder with the guy that had once consumed my dreams. We looked at our feet as much as we looked at Coach Murray until he spoke.
Then, our gazes locked onto his mustache and we both shuffled uncomfortably.
“I have never seen this level of competitiveness,” Coach said in the beginning.
Something in me flared with hope. “But that’s good, right?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Competition makes us better.”
By the glare Coach Murray directed at me, I knew I had said something profoundly stupid. Heat blossomed in my cheeks when Cameron muttered: “Stop talking.”
Coach set his hands on his desk and got up.
“In my twenty years of doing this, I have never seen a pair happier to prove that adage wrong. No, Brooks. You are most definitely not making each other better.” The restrained anger in his voice was the closest I’d ever heard Coach Murray to actual rage.
He was a calm, composed man who dealt in quiet disappointment rather than outbursts of shouting and insults.
Even now, his demeanor was that of a father who couldn’t believe what his son had done.
There was protectiveness in there, but it was buried deep beneath the disappointment.
It shamed me.
“You two cotton-heads are so preoccupied with this childish rivalry that you are completely forgetting why you are here in the first place. Today’s scrimmage was a travesty and I will sooner take you both off the team than let you bring everyone down with your games when we face the Breakers.
Am I making myself clear?” The clipped words cut me deep.
I was the goddamn captain of this team. He couldn’t do this to me.
But I also knew the flip side. I couldn’t blame Cameron for my shitty performance.
Yes, the fucker got under my skin and distracted me, but it was my own fucking fault that I’d let myself be distracted.
Every muscle in my body tensed as I listened to the coach.
I widened my stance and pulled my shoulders back, taking it like a grown up.
My chin lifted just as Cameron jerked his head up.
Coach tapped the wooden surface of his desk with a knuckle, buying himself a moment of silence and pulling both our attention to him.
“You have two weeks to straighten up, boys. Otherwise, one will have to go.” I held my breath and wondered if that meant Cameron’s ass was on the line.
But Coach read my mind and pinned me with a stare.
“And Brooks, just because I named you the captain, it doesn’t make you safe.
I’ll make my decision rationally and consider what’s best for the team. ”
My heart pounded twice its normal rate. If I wore one of those stupid watches like Cameron, it would be blaring right about now. “Coach, please…”
“I think I’ve made myself clear.” Coach’s stare hardened.
I wish I could have been the one thinking rationally at that moment.
I wish I could say I had thought of making the next move.
But it wasn’t me. I was a mess of jumbled thoughts.
My entire life, I had been focused on hockey because everything else was like grasping for a beam of sunshine that penetrated a forest canopy.
This had been my only constant. As soon as I realized that being gay would cost me my family — as it had in its own way — and that falling in love was a risky endeavor bound to result in heartbreak, I had hardened myself and remained focused on the game.
And now, as Coach Murray dangled the possibility of taking my future away, my mind was spinning.
But Cameron was composed enough to do the right thing and I hated myself for it much more than I hated him. It should have been me who asked the question. He swallowed, nodded, and lifted his head a little. “How can we do better?”
Coach Murray was silent for a beat. It was almost like he was taken aback by the rightness of Cameron’s thinking.
I bit the inside of my cheek, anger at my own messy emotions dominating. I hated that I depended on Cameron Martinez to get out of this mess. And right now, he was all that stood between one of us dropping out.
Coach considered this question carefully, then nodded to himself. “Are you conditioning together?” he asked first.
We gave half-hearted nods. It hadn’t exactly been great. We had been going to the gym around the same time and we had been acknowledging one another’s presence. But that had been it.
“That’s a ‘no.’ Very well. You will start tomorrow.
Fitness and conditioning five times a week.
On-ice practice with the rest of the team as scheduled.
And…” Coach hesitated and glanced at his computer screen, then stepped back from his desk and crossed his arms on his chest. “Tomorrow, seven am sharp, I’ll have you both in full gear, on ice, learning basics. ”
A frown contorted my face, but I bit my tongue and remained silent just like Cameron.
“Basics,” Coach repeated. “You’ll pretend you’ve never seen a puck in your entire life. Heller will guide you through the first session.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but I realized it was going to be a protest so I shut it closed again. With a nod, I swallowed the welling words and glanced at Cameron. He was expressionless and so subdued that I wondered what the hell had happened to him.
This was far from the guy I had once known. This guy was just taking it like a champ, culled and on the verge of surrender.
And, as Coach Murray dismissed us, I fell in line behind Cameron, inhaling a lungful of air and his spicy, smoky scent. We didn’t speak a word, but I stared at the back of his head and realized that we had both changed since the old days.