Chapter 66
SIXTY-SIX
JONAH
- Present Day -
“ W hat’s wrong?”
Almost everyone’s already headed out towards the tunnel to hit the ice, but I hang back, glancing anxiously down at my phone once more. Damn. Why isn’t she responding?
Anxiety spikes, and I can feel my heart jump into my throat. Shit. This was supposed to be a great game, too. Everyone’s expecting my best tonight -
“ Davies, what’s wrong ?”
Cal’s voice cuts through my anxious thoughts, and distractedly, I pull my gaze away from the dark screen of my phone to look over at him.
“Is it something with Sutton? Is she okay ?” The fear in his voice pulls me into the present and guilt settles into my stomach.
“Sorry, man. No. It’s - it’s nothing really. Sutton’s fine, it’s just - ”
My words cut out. How do I even begin to explain this to him?
“What the hell is it then? We’re supposed to be in the tunnel already.”
Oh, shit. A quick glance tells me that we’re the last two in the locker room. Swallowing, I look down at my phone again, hoping that she responded. Still nothing. She’s probably already in her seat, probably didn’t even see my text. My heart sinks.
“What is it?” Cal repeats, stepping closer.
Huffing out a breath, I shake my head, as if I could will away the anxiety. “It’s nothing. Just a stupid pre-game ritual that Sutton and I always do for our home games but, well - with everything, I forgot before we left and now she’s not responding to my text. . .”
“ Okay? So, you gonna share with the class, or -?” He stretches out the question and I grimace in annoyance.
“I know it’s dumb, alright? We just, we always hug. Like a ‘soul-crushing’ hug - at least, that’s what she calls it. And I kiss the top of her head and then, because she’s so short, she kisses me on the chest and tells me good luck.”
Cal takes another step, now standing directly in front of me, in full gear with his stick in one hand and helmet under his arm.
“ That’s it? ”
I nod. “Yep. That’s it. Like I said, it’s dumb, but it - it works, okay? And we’ve done it for years, and tonight was supposed to be our big game. Everyone’s expecting the two of us to be at peak performance tonight and now I just know I’m gonna fuck som- ”
I’m abruptly cut off as Cal gruffly pulls me against him, our pads forcing distance between us. I don’t even - what the hell? Without my noticing, he somehow managed to ditch the helmet and hockey stick, and now he’s hugging me. Shocked, I stand frozen in place, unsure of what’s happening.
“Well, you gonna hug me back or not, Davies?” His gruff voice is muffled as he continues to hold me, clearly uncomfortable.
Stiffly, I reach my arms around to give Cal an uneasy pat on the back, confused as hell by whatever this is.
“This a good enough hug for your pre-game ritual?” He asks awkwardly.
My thoughts are a jumbled mess, and it takes me a minute to process his question. “We uh - the kiss -” I respond without thinking.
“ Fucking hell .” His arms pull me closer, hugging me more tightly against him, and I feel the briefest kiss against the side of my face.
It’s - it’s different - than what I’m used to with Sutton.
At 6’3” I’m practically the same height as Cal, whereas Sutton only ever comes up to my chest. “Better?” He asks against my ear.
Swallowing thickly, I shake my head. No. There’s still -
Tilting my head down, I kiss the side of his neck, and allow myself the briefest moment to breathe him in. “Good luck tonight, Cal.” I whisper, and step back before I can make things any more awkward.
I can see the pulse thrumming in his neck where my lips had just been, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes several steps back, reaching out to grab his gear once more.
“Right. You too. Now we better fucking win, Jonah. Time to hit the ice.”
Turning abruptly, he walks out before I can process what the fuck just happened.
Anticipation fills the air, the echo of skates cutting across the ices blends into the roar of excitement throughout the crowd as Adamare blocks a blow meant to hit O’Connor.
Giovanni flanks him, slamming the opposition into the boards with a loud crash and with a well-practiced backhand, O’Connor passes the biscuit to Robinsky.
My pulse quickens, eyes locking on the target as I zero in on Robinsky flying down the ice in time to the sound of the music playing over the speakers.
He jumps, barely missing the stick that's thrust deliberately in his path in a pathetic attempt to trip him up, before landing and gaining control of the puck once more.
My eyes follow in time as he passes to Johanes, Giovanni shouldering into 42, clearing the way as Johanes passes the puck, using the rebound as it circles then bounces off the boards behind the net to skirt around, and Robinsky catches before redirecting with a skilled backhand and quickly shooting into the corner of the net.
The buzzer sounds our goal and it’s drowned out by the deafening cheers from our fans who celebrate alongside us. From across the ice, I watch, excitement and pride easing up the tightness in my chest as Robinsky crashes into Giovanni and Adamare in a victorious hug. Damn . He really is incredible.
The celebratory moment doesn’t last long. It never does. What feels like mere seconds later, the puck’s in play once more and I brace myself, eyes glued to the players that push past the center as they fight back for control of the scoreboard.
Taking a deep breath, I try to center myself, willing all the noise, the whistles from the ref, the overhead announcer, the goal-scoring music, cheers and jeers from the crowd to fade into the background as I set my intentions and zone in on the task at hand.
Like a well-oiled machine, I shift, falling once more into the rhythm of the game as my movements mirror the oncoming opposition.
They shoot, and I drop to the left, the puck bouncing harmlessly off my pads. I redirect back to O’Connor, who passes to Adamare .
“Nice one Newbie!”
My nod is the only sign of acknowledgement I can afford to give as I focus on the scuffle happening along the boards to my left. They’re too close for my liking, and I can’t let my focus drop, not even for a second.
The adrenaline courses through my veins, pulse beating in time to the music above me; the gasp of the crowd is delayed though – I’ve already seen the shot before that asshole ever had a chance to take it.
I nailed down his tell two minutes into the first period; as the clock runs down the final minutes of the game he doesn’t even stand a chance against me.
I block again, and my eyes lock with Robinsky’s even as I fake to the right. They take the bait, diving in the direction of Johanes, but the puck is already in Robinsky’s control and he’s flying down the ice once more.
The horn sounds, the roar of the crowd is deafening as Robinsky scores his first ever hat trick and the game-winning goal. And against my better judgement, I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face.
“Oh my god! You guys !”
Sutton flies into my arms, laughing as I pick her up in a tight hug, spinning her around. Adrenaline is still coursing through my veins, the energy in the air is unmatched as the guys slowly begin to filter out of the locker room behind me.
“That was incredible!”
For once, I can’t help myself; I kiss her, pouring every ounce of love and lust that I’ve felt for her over the years into it.
She knows damn well how I feel, I’ve made very little effort to hide it, though I would never push her for something she wasn’t ready to accept; but in a moment like this, my carefully crafted restraint cracks, even if just for a moment, as I see the joy and pride radiating off of her.
Robinsky steps out of the locker room, excitedly talking with Giovanni and Adamare.
I can feel his presence even without looking, remembering that night with Sutton - whatever the hell that was in the locker room earlier, and my pulse quickens with the subtle pull of something I’m not ready to think about too closely; I reluctantly let go, Sutton slowly sliding down my front.
Taking a small step back, I watch as she nervously tucks an errant strand behind her ear, her earsplitting smile dimming to a more hesitant grin as her gaze shifts from me, over to him , before settling back on me once more.
As if she needs my permission. Hell . Biting back the disappointment and annoyance - and something else that I’m not ready to try to put a name on - I roll my eyes, jerking my head back in his direction as they walk closer. Go on.
“Congrats on your hat trick, Cal.”
She steps forward as he comes to stand beside me, holding out her hand as if to shake in a congratulatory truce. What the actual fuck ? He ignores it, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. Not like. . . earlier. I can tell he wants to kiss her, but he restrains himself.
Thank fuck for that at least .
I would hate to have to punch his damn pretty-boy face after his big win tonight.
Whatever the fuck is going on here between them, between us - to everyone else at least - Sutton and I are supposed to be an exclusive couple, and that would raise a lot of questions that none of us know how to answer at the moment.
“Thanks, Shorty.”
He lets her go, just as reluctantly as I had, and takes a few steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets, probably to force some semblance of self-restraint, but I can feel his watchful gaze as he glances over at me
Right.
Turning to face the group fully, I reach out, pulling Sutton back against my chest, arms wrapped around her middle, and lean over to place a chaste kiss on her collar bone.
“We’re all headed out to celebrate. You guys in?”
Giovanni and Adamare’s women walk over to the group, and their curious looks as they eye the three of us aren’t exactly discreet. Maybe we aren’t as subtle as we think we are.