What the hell just happened? And why did I like it so much?
* * *
“Granger!Pass the fucking puck, Collins is wide open!” Coach yells as he stands on the bench with his arms crossed, tapping his clipboard on his thigh in frustration. Kat is standing off to the side with Coach, and she covers her ears just before he blows his whistle again.
I asked her to stay and wait for me while I’m at practice. She’s been sitting on the side, watching quietly and occasionally talking to Coach. He nods at whatever she says, then seconds later, he’s yelling at a player with a new game plan while she just crosses her arms and nods along. Damn, she’s a little monster when she’s working with Coach, pointing out mistakes we’re making on the ice. I think Princess is giving Coach pointers, and I can’t help chuckling each time the game plan has to change.
God, I haven’t felt this light at practice for a long time, and I’m trying to be better so she can see everything I have to offer. It’s just fucking difficult when everyone gives you a wide berth and Jeff is plowing into me every five seconds, trying to make me look bad in front of my Princess. He’s asking for a fight, but I’m not going to fall into that trap. I’m the bigger fucking man, and I’m going to prove it. Is this what moving on feels like? I just don’t give a damn about him or Victoria anymore. They deserve each other, and I’m glad they gave me this eye opener before I became stuck to Victoria for good.
I pick up speed, my stick passing the puck back and forth as my body spins around the team charging me at the last second. Our shoulders graze as I turn back around with a swirl, the puck still within my reach, and he scrambles to catch up to me. Only the sound of my blades carving the ice and my deep even breathing holds my focus as I slam my elbow into Blake’s gut just before I pass the puck to a stunned Collins. Without wasting time, he sends it flying into the net, and the sound of hoots and hollers fill the rink as he hesitantly gives me a slap on the back when he skates over to my side, a huge grin spreading across his face.
“Run that play again! Beast! Stay on Granger’s skates!” Coach shouts with a pleased smile on his face, and he blows his whistle again to get us moving into our positions.
Beast’s fist pounds my gloved hand and takes up position to my right as I crouch across from Jeff, who skates up to fight me for the puck once it drops. He smirks in ignorance as we wait for Michael, the assistant coach, to drop the puck between us as we have a stare down. The moment the puck hits the ice, I’m moving and shoving Jeff’s shoulder as I pass him with a speed that has him scrambling to catch up with me. Back and forth, I pass between Beast and Collins as we head to the opposing end and score a winning goal. Collins comes off to my side, and I fake a pass to Beast, all the while giving the puck to Collins as he speeds past me.
I don’t see it coming because the puck is no longer in my possession, but I hear Kat scream my name just as a body slams into mine with a force. My skates literally lift off the ice as a stick is shoved into my chest to add to the hit. Lying on my back with the cold seeping into my gear, I try to catch my breath as Jeff’s face looms over me. The shithead is grinning like the cat got the canary at his real fucking dirty move.
“Oh, my bad. Didn’t see you there, Wilder. My focus was on the hot piece of ass I plan on taking home later. Tell me, is her pussy as tight as I imagine it to be? I can’t wait to sink in and claim that cunt,” he taunts and grins over his shoulder to whoever is coming closer before slowly skating away out of my sight.
Kat’s face is scowling down at me as her eyes roam over my body to check for injuries. I kind of find that adorable, since my body has been taking hits since I first started skating at a young age. Your body gets so used to the bruises and the cuts, you hardly feel it anymore. Shake it off and keep going.
“Granger! Are you okay?” she asks worriedly as her hands flutter, hovering over me like she’s afraid to touch me.
A groan leaves me as my upper body lifts off the cold surface to sit up, but I cover it with a cough because fucking hell, I don’t want to look like a weakling in front of her. Yeah, that hurt and I’ll probably have one hell of a bruise, but that’s hockey for you. You either bounce back up or quit the game for good.
“I’m fine, Princess. Here, let’s get you off the ice before you slip and I’ll have to carry you out of here,” I grumble as I get to my feet easily and gently take her elbow to escort her back to the bench.
“You do know I was practically born on the ice right?” She laughs at me as I pick her up by the waist and swing her over to the other side.
Damn it, why does it always feel right to have her in my arms?
“You're on my ice now, Princess. My rules, so shove it.” My smirk can’t be contained, and she rolls her eyes at me, but she’s biting her lip to hold her laughter in.
“Whatever you say, Captain. Are you sure you're okay?” She can’t help herself, and that pleases me that she cares about me like that.
I feel like shoving my gloves off and pumping my chest with my fist like a fucking caveman. She does weird things to me, but it’s good weird things.
“Don’t know what you're talking about. Didn’t feel a thing,” I tease her, loving the way her eyes soften. I puff up my chest as I’m skating away, just to hear her raspy and warm laugh.
Her laugh follows me, and I don’t even care that I was smacked into the ice by Jeff. I’m proud because I’m the fucking one who made her laugh. Only me. Beast skates over to me and gives me a nod that says ‘you good?’ so I nod back to say ‘I ain’t no fucking pussy.’ We share a fist bump and turn to watch the coach tearing Jeff a new asshole.
“If I see you pull that stunt one more time, you’re off the team. Am I fucking clear, Gold?” Coach yells in Jeff’s face, but you can tell the prick doesn’t give a damn as he spits on the ice and doesn’t bother responding.
Why is he even still on this team? Coach blows the whistle and shuffles back to the bench, waving me back over.
“What’s up, Coach?” I ask once my skates come to a gliding stop in front of him.
“Your team is a fucking mess, Captain. You’re going to run some drills until you guys start acting like a team again. I want sprints until the end of practice,” he commands, wiping sweat off his forehead and putting his cap back on. “You did well, kid. I expected you to go after him when he sent you flying but you didn’t. Why?” he questions, but I see him side-eye Kat, who’s pretending to find her nails fascinating as she secretly listens in.
I can tell he already knows my answer, and his lips twitch when I glance back at him after staring at Kat for a few seconds.
“Felt right, Coach.” My voice comes out dry with a small shrug, and I hope he doesn’t ask more.
“Right, Wilder. Now go get your team ready for sprints. By the time you guys are done, you’ll be puking your guts out. Start on my whistle.” I nod and skate over to my team, already yelling orders in a booming voice.
“Get in line, ladies. Coach says to start when the whistle blows, and we’re not stopping until practice is up.” I ignore their groans as we all stand in a single straight line, waiting for our torture to begin. I don’t miss the way some of the guys glare at Jeff at the end on the right side of the line, and that warms my fucking heart.
We have a half-hour of sprinting to the middle of the rink and back. Then the whistle blows, and I already know some of us will be puking by the end of practice.
