Jack snorted but was quite happy that Dax seemed to have forgotten their original conversation.
“West, you’re taking the face-off today, okay?” Fox changed the subject and pointed to the middle of the rink, where an opposing player was waiting.
“All right,” he replied before they briefly skated back to the players’ bench, slapped each other, and listened to Coach Gray say a few last motivational words.
He babbled something about the Wolfs’ weak defense – as if Jack didn’t know all about it – but Jack didn’t quite hear the rest because he was distracted by movement above their heads.It was the intrusive flash of a red jacket behind the glass of the VIP lounge. He recognized men in suits…and a single woman in a red coat.
He knew it was Penny without seeing her face. He recognized it by the way she squared her shoulders, how she reluctantly shook her head as if she was sorry she couldn’t nod.
He hadn’t seen her in six days and strongly suspected she was avoiding him. He couldn’t say for sure, but she seemed to have personally visited every other player to “get to know them better.” According to Dax, Moreau had explained to her that he’d want to get to know her better if she became a puck — while Leon Alvarez claimed she had to be a stripper to interest him. Both had made her laugh, which confused the players, because they were meant as insults.
Penny Clark, however, didn’t seem to be someone who could be easily brought to her knees or offended.
Unless you asked if she was crazy.
Which Jack had unfortunately done.
As soon as the words had left his lips, he knew he had said the wrong thing. Her eyes had gone black and the cold shoulder that followed was something he had only received from Dax, and that had lasted a decade. But all he’d said was the truth. She was a little crazy, in the best way.
His eyes wandered over her figure…and met her eyes. Or maybe not. It was hard to tell from that distance, but the tingling sensation on his neck and the heat in his chest…he just knew she was looking back.
He raised his hand intuitively.
It was a stupid gesture because only idiots or fifth graders waved. So he swiftly pulled it back down — hitting his helmet with a smack of leather against plastic.
“Did you want to say something?” Coach Gray asked irritated.
“Lucy’s not here anymore, dude. You don’t have to report in,” Leon Alvarez jumped in.
“Um, sorry, I stretched my arm,” he said hastily.
“Did you?” Gray looked at him worriedly.
“The fabric over my arm,” he corrected himself.
“What?” Fox scratched the back of his neck, confused.
Oh, damn it. The last time he had used such a stupid excuse was when he had assured his mother that he was making balloon animals with the condoms in his nightstand.
Thank God the referee signaled them to enter the rink at that moment.
He flipped down the visor on his helmet, hit the boards with his stick one last time, and took a last look up into the VIP booth. Penelope was still standing at the glass, a gaunt, red-haired man talking to her.
Jack gritted his teeth. Of course. Obviously, some sleazy guy would start coming on to her at the first opportunity. He hadn’t believed Penny was the kind of woman who would be open to such advances. Now she was throwing her head back and laughing and…well, he had picked her up in a bar, hadn’t he?
Never mind. He looked away abruptly. She could talk to whomever she wanted, do whatever she wanted. Ignore him as much as she wanted. He was only interested in the game. Penny had been just a fleeting mistake.
He rolled his neck, which was suddenly strangely tense, and skated to the blue circle in the middle while the others took their positions.
Andre Mäkelä was the opposing player he was challenging in today’s face-off. Jack knew Mäkelä well. He had played briefly for New York when Jack was still a rookie. Off the ice, they liked each other quite well. But off the ice was off the ice.
“Well, West?” the Finn greeted him. “Why haven’t you had that monster of a nose fixed yet? Your visor isn’t even on properly.”
Jack snorted and pressed his blades harder into the ice to get a better grip while one of the referees placed the puck between them.
“Someone with a face like you, Andre, should know better than to insult strangers.”
Andre grinned. “Will God now spite me with lightning, Saint?”
