2. Sam, age 15
. . .
This is a bad idea. My eyes run down the row of boys from the high school hockey team who were brave enough to meet me and Braysen here today. The fact that I kept it a secret from Jameson proves how bad of an idea it is, and if he finds out, we’ll all suffer the consequences. A very bad idea.
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” I turn to Braysen one last time, hesitation written all over my face.
“This is the only way to do it. Once it's done, you’ll know what to expect and it won’t hurt as much.” He shrugs his shoulders. Even as he says the words, I notice the slight flicker of doubt in his eyes.
I should back out now. Just cut my losses and wait for the season to start.
My fears are probably baseless, but I want to be prepared.
The jump from the U15 team to the junior varsity team this year is dramatic.
Not just in play but in the roughness of the play.
They say girls can’t check, but the girls' teams have no problem playing dirty and shoving each other into the boards. I’ve been worried about it since the summer, and now with tryouts and a brand-new season looming in the distance, I panicked.
Unfortunately, I called Braysen for this one.
His bright idea, though, might be the one that gets me in trouble.
Not that I had any other choice. I told Jameson my worries about getting hit hard this year, and he told me no one would dare hurt me.
Like he could really stop what happens in a game or put me in a protective bubble while he’s watching from the stands.
Pushing thoughts of my best friend from my mind, I glance between Braysen and Luca. Both of whom are watching me with matching expressions of excitement.
“This is bad.” I sigh before getting down and ready into my skating stance. “Okay, ready.”
I fly down the row between the guys and the boards, and each one of them takes the opportunity to shove me into the boards.
The first hit takes my breath away, and, once again, I'm thankful we kept this hidden from Jameson. He hates when I’m even slightly grazed in a game.
The second, third, and fourth hits make my teeth rattle, and I clamp down harder on my mouth guard.
I make it through the line and take one last hit in the corner board before skating back over to Braysen.
“Well?” he asks, his eyes wavering over my face, looking for any signs of serious injury. I’m breathless, but my adrenaline is spiked. That was freaking amazing. I feel invincible.
“Again,” I tell him, nodding my head. “Tell your boys to bring it this time.”
Braysen laughs and shouts at the team to crank the muscle. Some of them are shaking their heads, but others are whooping it up. Only Luca’s eyes widen, and he glances at me with horror written on his face. Poor kid looks like I signed his death warrant.
Pushing off on my skates, I dodge and take every hit from the team over and over.
On my last pass in the corner, Braysen checks me hard enough that the glass bows and shudders from the impact.
My skates leave the ice, and I drop onto it, knocking the wind out of me for a second before I’m back up and racing to the finish line.
“Ow, I think that one may leave a mark.” I chuckle, and my hand finds my side, where it met the edge of the boards.
“Ow, huh?”
That voice is like liquid fire down my spine, my body instantly responding to his presence in the room.
My heart thuds, and my stomach flips when my head snaps over my shoulder.
The guys’ noisy chatter fades to silence.
A stick drops on the ice, and no one moves.
I glance at Braysen, who grimaces, and then to Luca, who’s glancing at anyone else but me right now.
I can feel the hostility in the rink, the tension evident in everyone on the ice.
Nothing compares to Jameson, though. His shoulders are tight; his hands clamped in fists at his sides.
His jaw is locked so tightly that the muscle bunches as his teeth grind.
Under his flop of hair, I can tell his eyes have darkened from chocolate brown to almost black. We’re in so much trouble.
“Not ow, ow. Just a little bruise probably.” I laugh, trying to ease the tension.
I skate over to the box that he’s standing in and step in with him.
Even on skates, Jameson towers over me. My hands remove my helmet before my head tilts back to meet his eyes.
Look at me. I silently beg, and his stormy eyes snap to mine as if he heard me. “I’m okay, Kane.”
“Why are you even doing this in the first place?” His voice is low, edged with concern.
“Jamo,” Braysen skates over but smartly keeps his distance. “Man, we were just trying to help her.”
“Girls’ jv and varsity are no joke, Kane.” Luca glides up. “Sammy needs help, so she isn’t scared. She asked for our help.”
His words instantly make my cheeks flare with a blush. Jameson’s eyes slide to mine, and I see the flash of pain there. My heart squeezes in my chest. My hand instantly reaches for his, my chest bumping into his.
“I thought I couldn’t ask you. You never want me to get hurt in a game, and this year that just won’t happen.”
Jameson’s gaze turns intense on me, and he grits his jaw again, swallowing hard. “I don’t like seeing you in pain, Pretty Girl.”
Everything inside of me flares to life when he calls me that.
Something I’ve only noticed he’s started to do recently, and every time he does, the words melt me like butter.
He makes my heart and my stomach do crazy dances, and I feel light-headed.
I know my feelings for Jameson have gravitated toward more than best friends, but neither of us has acknowledged it.
Even though I have Riley and Emma, I don’t think about them as much as Jameson.
They aren’t the last voice I hear at night or the first text I get in the morning.
I don’t seek them out at school the second I step into the parking lot.
When Jameson holds my hand or when he watches me as he's doing right now, my skin tingles and my chest flutters.
“I’m not. I promise.” I tug on his hand, squeezing it with my own and give him a reassuring smile. “Don’t be mad at them. I had to bribe them as it is. Next time I’ll talk to you about it first.”
Jameson glances once over my shoulder at the guys still on the ice, without even looking at his two best friends. “Sure, Pretty Girl.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him. Something else I’ve been doing more often, and Jameson has become just as comfortable touching me more as well. “I have practice on the other ice. Can you bring me home after?”
With his birthday a few months before mine, he already has his license. “Was already planning on it, Sam.”
I nod my head and move around him to head for the locker rooms. With one last glance at Braysen and Luca, I silently mouth sorry.
Once I get Jameson alone in the car after practice, I’ll make him see my point.
I’ll get him to excuse our friends. They were only helping me out.
I’ll also apologize again for not talking to him more about it. Everything will be okay.
Jameson, age 16
“Look, Kane, Sammy said you wouldn’t help her, and she was desperate.” Braysen voices first, and I give him props for being brave about it.
It still doesn’t help, though, that I already witnessed them all smashing her into the boards.
The way her tiny frame was pressed against theirs.
My stomach roils just remembering the sound she made when she hit the ice after someone else put her there.
“Still should have told me. I would have handled it.”
Luca scoffs. “You wouldn’t do it. You tense up anytime her ass hits the ice in a game.”
“If someone so much as brushes her shoulder in the hallways, you look like you’re ready to commit murder, Jamo,” Braysen adds.
I know these fuckers are right, but it doesn’t help me any.
I’m already too far gone on Sam. I stopped thinking of her as my best friend at thirteen and more as the girl who will be my future.
Sounds crazy at sixteen, with my whole life ahead of me, but that's what she does to me. She’s had my attention since we were nine, and I love being the center of her world.
“I’m gonna get ready,” I tell each of them before sauntering back to the locker room. When I get back to the ice, the team is solemn. Before our coach arrives, I make sure to stare them all down. “Any of you who helped my girl this afternoon, stay after practice. I want to thank you.”
Braysen and Luca glance at each other, eyes flashing, but I ignore them. They’re the reason I’m on edge anyway. I can feel the anger running in my veins, right under the skin. They’ll all pay. And then I’ll take my girl home, and make sure she’s not in pain for the rest of the night.
Practice was brutal. As a defensive player, I’m always in the mix, shoving into the offense, using my body to stop a play, and footwork to keep the puck in the offensive end.
Today my teammates felt no mercy from me, especially the ones who helped Sam.
Now that it's over, my legs are on fire, and there’s a decent-sized bruise forming on my rib cage.
That's nothing though compared to the split skin on my knuckles and the faint brush of blood still there.
I push all the pain down until I barely feel it.
My breathing comes easier now that my adrenaline has subsided.
My head tilts back against the cement walls while I wait for her.
“Jameson.” She calls my name, my eyes open instantly, searching her out.
Her face is flushed. Her golden blonde hair is slicked back with sweat along her hairline.
There are even small curly flyaways by her ears.
I can see the neckline of her t-shirt is sweaty underneath her zip-up hoodie.
She looks fucking beautiful. “Did you have a good practice?”
I nod and grab her bag from her hands. I had already dropped mine off before coming back to meet her. She’s never quick in the locker room; I think the girls spend the majority of the time gossiping. “How was yours?”
“Great,” she answers, almost bouncing on her feet. “I’m ready to get home though. I’m hungry, and I have so much to do for English, and I’m already behind on my intro to Spanish—”
Her speech cuts off with a tiny gasp. I glance down at her, watching her eyes widen and the slight way her cheeks pale. My lips turn up in a smirk, knowing exactly what she’s seeing.
“Jameson—”
“No one touches you and makes you hurt, Sam. No one,” I remind her.
Every single skater who helped her walks out of the locker room, right past us, eyes avoiding her general direction. Each of them has a bruise under the eye or a split lip.
“You didn’t have to do that.” She glares at me, her color coming back.
My gaze falls to the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the swell of soft skin that moves over the beat of her heart. “They knew what they were doing. They respect you so they helped you. But each of them knew what the consequences would be. That's why Luca called me and let me know the plan.”
“You knew?” She turns to me, her arms crossing over her chest, her eyes flashing.
I love when she gets angry like this, feisty, and one day, I’ll know what it's like to kiss her when she’s full of that fire.
I’m smart enough to know that this is not the day.
She needs to be comfortable while I slowly move her out of the friend zone and catch up to where I want us to be.
“Of course I knew, Pretty Girl. I know everything about you.” My fingers brush the unruly hairs away from her face. My skin touches hers in the process, and I can feel little sparks from the small contact.
Sam’s eyes drop to the floor, and she bites her bottom lip. The fight leaves her body, and her shoulders ease. She knows I’m right about everything. “Whatever. Can we just go? I’m starving.”
I pick up her bag and stick again, hoisting it over my shoulder before motioning for her to lead the way. I can’t help the grin on my lips as she walks ahead of me, still chattering on about her upcoming project. Anything my girl wants, she gets.