Chapter 5
FIVE
ALEX
The sound of the arena at game time always injects adrenaline straight into my veins.
Tonight’s no different. I glide across fresh ice with Theo trailing me for our warm-up.
We wave to the people in the crowd shouting our names, though I don’t offer more than friendly appreciation for the support to the girls pressing themselves against the glass.
I spot Lainey in the student section near our net.
She’s the only person in the front row hovering by her seat with an uncertain expression while other students holler enthusiastically as the players run through pre-game drills.
She has her arms folded tightly across her chest, though it doesn’t do much to hide the fact she’s wearing my number.
Damn. An unexpected pulse of heat tugs low in my gut. It’s crazy how good she looks in it. I joked about her wearing it, but I wasn’t prepared for how much I’d like seeing her rocking my number, wearing my jersey. Reality is better than I imagined last night.
Fake girlfriend or not, when a girl wears a guy’s clothes it wakes up a primal side of us that’s really fucking into it.
Just like the night I caught her in nothing but an old Flyers hoodie in her kitchen. The memory merges with the fantasy that hit me last night, my mind supplying the idea of her in nothing by my jersey. A low groan leaves me as I refocus my thoughts before my cock hardens at the mental image.
We’ve been texting since I finished practice yesterday after I instated myself as her fake boyfriend.
Or rather, I’ve been texting her and she’s occasionally responded with frazzled answers trying to find any excuse not to come tonight.
It’s the longest conversation we’ve ever had.
I feel like I know her better than I did yesterday.
I wasn’t sure if she’d show up for the game, but she’s here.
Her eyes meet mine and my grin widens. She looks away just as quickly. I’m not the only one noticing her. Some nearby fans seated in her row have spotted her in my alternate jersey and have struck up a conversation. I recognize the sorority sisters from the Pi Kappa Alpha parties.
“Give me a pass,” I call to Theo when she turns her attention back to me.
We line up for a shoot out drill and he directs the puck to me.
Once it flies into the net, I flash her a grin. My brows lift and I silently ask her see that, babe? That shot was for you. Her brows furrow, as if she’s saying big fucking deal.
I laugh at how unimpressed she is, puckering my lips to blow her a playful kiss. She huffs and waves shyly.
“Who do you keep smiling at like that? You’d better focus on warming up.
” Ice sprays my feet as Theo skates to a halt abruptly at my side.
He stares at his sister in the audience.
After a stretch of silence, he mutters, “Damn. Lainey never comes to watch. Hell must be frozen over. She’d better not bring us any bad luck. ”
There’s no one more superstitious than hockey players. Any slight change can be a bad omen or the start of a winning streak. I feel good about her being in the crowd tonight.
“She’s here for me,” I say at the same time he recognizes that she’s wearing my alternate jersey.
My best friend’s head whips to me, glaring. “What the fuck is going on?”
Ah, shit. I probably should’ve thought that one through better.
I was too busy getting Lainey to agree to my plan to consider that her terms meant I’d have to lie to Theo and be the guy dating his sister.
There wasn’t a good time to tell him, but I should’ve so he didn’t find out on the ice minutes before the game.
I hold my gloved hands up in surrender. “I invited her when I ran into her yesterday before practice.”
He clenches his jaw and both of us fall into a routine we know well. Pre-game warm-ups have been our own ritual since we started playing together. It’s how we find our rhythm to stay in sync as wingers on the first line. He slams his stick down on the ice harder than usual.
I watch him for a moment as he flicks the puck back and forth with quick movements that broadcast his agitation before positioning myself where he sends the pass.
Send is putting it nicely. He rockets the damn puck at me.
If I didn’t know him as well as I do after five years of training together, I would’ve missed it by a mile.
We both watch my slapshot zip into the net.
He sends the next three passes even faster.
Each time I connect, I grit my teeth. Coach will lose his shit on us if he looks over here.
He can smell it a mile away when we’re fucking around instead of taking the game seriously.
During practice is bad enough, but right before a game starts? Death wish.
“Dude,” I bite out after I make the last one, scooping up another puck with the edge of my stick to pass to him. “What the hell?”
Theo narrows his eyes. “You’ve never hung out with her before. You don’t know her. Why are you talking to my sister? Why’s she wearing your shit?”
All I picture is her expression as Mike and his dickhead friends closed in on her yesterday. I clench my teeth, my grip choking my stick. “Am I not allowed to talk to my girlfriend?”
Again, I should’ve thought my answer through before the words flew out of my mouth because my best friend’s eyes grow wide, then harden. Maybe Lainey has a point about my cognitive health.
“Girlfriend? You? What the fuck do you mean you’re dating my sister? She’s not some jersey chaser like the girls you normally fu—” Theo cuts off when one of the hotshot rookies skates between us, stealing the puck mid-pass. “Blake!”
Easton flashes him an unapologetic grin after he takes his shot on the net. “Aw, man. Too slow.”
It’s no secret he’s gunning for first line.
He’s wasting no time, putting in as much work as he can to prove himself not only to Coach Lombard, but to the team that he’s got what it takes.
As a forward, he’s fast as fuck and he’s got an edge when it comes to split second decision making.
I recognize it because it’s similar to my play style.
His skating inspires me to make plays that get him the puck to score.
Turning back to Theo, I offer an explanation that will placate him for now. “It’s new. Very new. She’s different. I’m taking things at her pace and she didn’t want to tell you.”
He holds his anger, staring me down. “If you fucking hurt her in any way—”
“I wouldn’t ever hurt her.” The force of my growled response startles both of us. We never fight. I incline my head. “Sorry. I mean it, though.”
Theo sighs. “Alright. Whatever.”
We finish our drills before it’s time for the face-off. Both of us take our positions while our linemate Putnam skates to center ice against UConn.
Once the puck drops, I give myself over to the game.
UConn’s center wins the face-off. He doesn’t make it far into our zone before Theo steals the puck.
Our stands erupt in cheers when he pulls off a tight turn and passes to our captain, both of us flanking to support Putnam on either side of the ice.
He catches my eye and signals me. I’m ready for his deke.
Putnam feints a pass to Theo before he dumps the puck into UConn’s zone once he crosses the red line.
I skate my ass off to chase it down and reach it before their defense reacts.
Momentum is on my side and I grin when I pick up the puck first to maintain possession.
The d-man closest to me curses, hot on my tail after I skirt around him.
There are two potential paths to a goal right in front of me. Either I take a shot on the goal, or I pass back to Putnam as he pushes into the attack zone.
Before I reach the opening in their defense, UConn’s huge defenseman checks me, sending us against the boards.
“Not so fast, you little shit,” he barks.
He’s a big fucking dude, but I won’t let him take the puck. I look for Putnam while faking a struggle to find the weak point in his form. Smirking once I manage to break away from the guy on me, I flick the puck to our center.
Putnam takes the shot and the lamp lights up with the first goal for Heston.
“Yeah!” I shout.
I catch Lainey’s eye and her expression knocks into me harder than UConn’s behemoth defense player that tried to keep me pinned against the boards.
Her amazement isn’t like the blur of faces in the crowd—it’s in sharp focus, piercing me.
My gaze dips to my number emblazoned across her chest and satisfaction burns through me.
When she recovers with a radiant smile, I’m unprepared. Utterly unequipped for the way my heart squeezes.
A Heston defenseman skates around me to herd me back up the ice, breaking me out of the moment.
Once I have my focus back on the game, something’s different. I feel more aware of the players around me, of myself. I’m skating faster, handling the puck, and seeing plays with precise clarity. Maybe I was right about Lainey. She feels like a good luck charm that makes me play better.
By the end of the final period, I’ve been off and on the ice for two more shifts, switching out with the other lines throughout the game. I’ve always loved the sound of the stadium filled with the screaming fans and the blades carving up the ice. Yet I’m pumped like never before.
Tonight I’m on fire, and each time I’ve dominated the ice during my shift, I’ve felt Lainey’s eyes on me. It draws my attention back to her, my heart hammering hard.
When we win thanks to the goal Theo puts up to take our score to 4-1 before the clock runs down, all our guys rush the ice. Blake barrels into my side, Reeves jostling into my other. I bump fists with Theo, his attitude from warm-ups washed away by the win.
Then as I skate around the rink, the cheering of the crowd pales in comparison to the way my chest feels once I lock eyes with Lainey because she’s smiling right at me.