14. Leo
LEO
Getting Dom’s cranky ass in the car was a hard enough sell, let alone convincing her to let Kiera come with.
All it took was a nasty look from her mother for Dom to fall in line.
Not that Kiera’s teasing about Dom being a mama’s girl was helping much. Though it was fun to watch Dom’s face flush with embarrassment as she tried to dispel the allegations.
Now we careened down the mountain toward Seattle, Dom’s anger expressing as a lead foot on the gas pedal. The rural woods turned quickly into suburbs and even faster to an urban center.
In the backseat, Kiera sat between Spencer and I. We’d been desperate to be closer to her after spending nearly a week being chaste in front of our lovely host.
I could feel the heat of her legs burning through my cargo pants. And my eyes wouldn’t peel away from the low cut top that showed off her chest. All I really wanted was to bury my face in her tits and feel her pussy grow wet on my fingers.
But all of that would have to wait for now.
Dom pulled the car to a stop in a parking spot just outside the massive Climate Pledge Arena. Normally home to the Seattle Torrent and the Kraken, the arena was generously hosting the NCAA semifinals match.
The Frozen Four they called it. A single elimination match, sudden death style. One loss today and either our Reapers or their Yetis would be out of contention for the championship.
I couldn’t wait, throwing the car door open and offering Kiera a hand down from the massive SUV.
Before she stepped out of the car, she threw on her Lucky Strike cap and a pair of sunglasses to obscure her face.
“Are we sure this is okay?” She asked me, just a smidge of her concerned green eyes peeking out from the dark shades.
Nodding, I guided her to the ground. “Yes, darlin’. It’ll be so crowded, there’s nowhere easier for you to blend in.”
Spencer had walked around the car, placing a gentle hand on Kiera’s lower back. “Don’t worry, Bunny. We’ll be with you the whole time.”
She took in a deep breath, trying to let the air calm her anxiety. But she grabbed my hand, wrapping her fingers around mine as we moved toward the stadium. A crowd was slowly shuffling inside.
Outside the venue, a merch stand was selling jerseys and foam fingers.
Pulling us off to the side, I pointed out four jerseys. “Can we get four of the Reapers jerseys please?”
The guy nodded and passed along the shirts. “$500, cash only.”
“No problem.”
Dom was shaking her head before I even looked over at her. “We don’t need this shit.”
“Yes, we do.”
“Have to blend in.” Vivienne chimed in, wearing her own Torrent jersey.
Reluctantly, Dom pulled cash from her wallet and passed it to the merchant. Once we were squared up, Kiera slipped on her jersey. It was boxy, covering up her exposed cleavage but as soon as it was on, my mind was filled with dirty fantasies of her completely naked underneath.
Spencer licked her lips as she looked at our girl. “You thinking the same thing I am?”
All I could manage was a nod, not trusting my mouth to stay PG around Viv. Instead, I dapped Spencer up and threw on my own jersey — a laugh escaping me as I peeked at Dom in her baggy shirt. Viv patted her on the back as they walked together.
As we headed toward the glass entrance, Kiera looped her arm in Spencer’s. “I’m kind of surprised you guys like sports.”
“Why is that, Princess?” I lifted the sleeve of my jersey and flexed my bicep for her. “Don’t think I’m built for it?”
She shrugged as her eyes traveled down our bodies. “Well, you’re athletic. No doubt about that.” Lowering her voice, Kiera licked her lips. “But I thought all that muscle was reserved for pit fighting and working in the shop. Maybe some extracurricular activities in a warehouse.”
“Not all this.” Kiera nodded toward the stadium as we passed through security.
Clicking her tongue, Spencer shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong. We love watching women kick the shit out of each other with blades on their feet.”
The giggle from Kiera’s throat was enough to knock me to the floor.
But instead, I put my arm over her shoulder. “It’s a local team. Well, as close to local as Valemont has. The Reapers were the underdog. They flew across the country for this match and they haven’t won a championship in over a decade.”
“So we’re going to lose?” Kiera laughed.
My jaw dropped open. “Rude. No, this new team is something else. The starting lineup has pulled some crazy points this season. They’ve got a chip on their shoulder."
I was a sucker for the underdog. Always had been and always will be. This was going to be quite the matchup.
As we ascended up to the Main Concourse, Spencer was immediately hunting for snacks. She ran ahead, getting some hot dogs, popcorn, and a pretzel along with a soda for all of us to share.
Though Vivienne was sure to grab her own bottle of water.
I really couldn’t blame her for not wanting to share a cup with us. We were some filthy bastards.
Only once the hallways started to clear did we head inside the stadium and down to our seats. Viv had used her season ticket holder status to get us some killer seats on Dom’s credit card.
Right up on the glass, we took our seats. Kiera was squished between Spencer and while Viv sat between Spencer and Dom.
The lights overhead dimmed as the crowd started to roar. It was a sold out stadium despite being a college matchup. Seattle clearly fucking loved hockey.
It wasn’t long before the two team captains were meeting at center ice. The Yeti’s Captain was dressed in their hometown white and turquoise jersey.
Bending over with her hockey stick in hand, the Reaper’s Captain snarled hard. The black jersey was a stark contrast to the white ice. Number 9, Wick’s helmet was already covered in scuff marks.
She was steady on her skates, an iron gaze as she met her opponent’s eyes.
In a matter of seconds, the referee’s whistle blew and the face-off began. Wick smacked the puck straight back to her defensive line who carried the black circle across the blue line at the center of the rink.
Kiera was struggling to keep up as the puck flung around the ice.
It wasn’t long before the game got physical, Number 33 on defense was throwing the Yeti bodies into the walls. A loud smack rang out over the ice as she took possession of the puck — ice flaring off the rink as her skates made a sharp turn.
As the team careened around the ice, driving the puck toward the Yeti goal, Wick and Hart pressed a player between them, using their sticks to whack the puck into their possession.
Lifting her stick high, Wick launched the biscuit into the net and past the Yeti goalie. A truck horn blared out over the arena, announcing the goal to the annoyed stands.
Still moving, Wick dropped to one knee and pumped her fist, greeted by Hart as she stood and gripped into a tight hug. They slammed into the glass as the opposing team booed — helmets and hands smacking into each other as they celebrated.
The jeering only spurred them on.
My eyes flicked to Kiera as the second period began. She was engrossed but still trying to figure out the rules.
I let the sounds of the stadium fill my ears. The deep rumble and chants of the crowd. They wanted a win, desperately. Their cheers became prayers, became gospel.
In the rink, bodies slammed into the glass. The boards vibrated as the heavy pads smacked against them.
It was brutal, violent. Only a pair of gloves and a metal cage helmet between each player and the fists of their opponent. And at every turnover, I could feel the tension in the air. Each one of the players yearned to rip their gloves off and make contact.
To settle this with their fists instead of their pucks.
From behind the glass, I could hear our captain yelling at the refs. We’d gotten a punishing penalty after one of our players got body checked.
“Fucking bullshit.” Kiera shook her head from beside me.
Raising an eyebrow, I nudged her. “Is that right, Princess?”
With a shrug, Kiera licked her lips. “They started it.”
“That’s goddamn right, baby.” Spencer wrapped her arm around our girl as play started back up.
I should’ve explained it to Kiera before we got in here, what about hockey puts me in the seat. But looking over at her, she seemed to understand it just fine.
Human nature demanded sacrifice and violence. This was as clean and polished as that chaos could get. The thrill of punishing a player threatening your territory, the need to defend what was yours with as much force as was necessary.
There were just enough pads and equipment to keep them from killing each other.
It wasn’t all that different from our pit fights, from what we did in the dark to those men who encroached a little more on Valemont every day.
But I could see the blood lust on Kiera’s face, the way she scooted forward on the edge of her seat as Wick and Hart cornered a Yeti in the corner after they charged our goalie. Wick gripped the jersey of the opposing player, getting in her face as she growled out.
A ref stuck themself between the pair but that didn’t break Wick’s eye contact.
“Keep your fucking skates off my goalie, motherfucker!” She yelled across the ice.
Kiera was standing up now, with the rest of the fans, trying to get a better view.
The crowd was booing the Reapers, annoyed that they came for vengeance.
As I got on my feet, I noticed a group of students in front of us. Scrolling on their phones, they placed bets in an app. I squinted to try and get a closer look. It was odds on the game. But not just who would win or lose.
No, these were odds on who would pick a fight at the tail end of the second period.
The kids switched over to another bet, this one taking odds on how long the fight would last.
Stunned, I turned to look back at Dom who was also reading the screen. We met each other’s gaze. Something’s not right here.
I’d seen the app before, some invention of a kid from around Valemont. But this, placing odds on a fight in a college hockey game… it was something else.
Before long, the refs broke up the fight on the ice. Wick wiped away a smear of blood from her lip, licking up the mess as she flicked her helmet back on.
The refs called a couple major penalties for the fight just as the game broke into the intermission.
Kiera used the break to let us teach her some of the rules. “Are fights allowed?”
“Nope.” Spencer laughed. “But it’s a part of hockey, even if they don’t technically allow it.”
“Why did 9 just stand there and let the other player hit them like that?”
Looking at her, I spotted a few drops of blood on the ice from just behind the glass. “Because now the Yeti player started it, even though Wick cornered her and kept her on the boards.”
Spencer popped some popcorn in her mouth. “Kind of Wick’s whole thing. Silent killer that one. I want to see what she could do without the rules.”
As the players returned to the ice, ready for the third period, I couldn’t stop my mind from picturing it. How easily could Wick and Hart take the whole team down? They clearly had the drive, the aggression to do it.
I’d bet the two of them and the goalie could handle the entire match themselves. Maybe it was the drive to bring home a championship, or maybe it was something else driving them like that.
But whatever it was, they were ready to fight against the dirty ref calls and the onslaught from the Seattle team. It seemed like even the antagonistic booing from the crowd was enough to spur the Reapers to another goal.
They’d make excellent recruits.
The thought crossed my mind as soon as the Reapers popped a puck into the net. It was a shame we didn’t have a chapter on their campus.
The crowd roared with frustration at the same time as Dom grumbled. “Fuck.”
All of us turned to look at her, but her eyes stayed peeled on her phone.
Her jaw tensed as she stared down. “Zeus is circling the house. It’s not safe to go back to Valemont.”