Turned out, I wasn’t the only one watching, because I saw Levi Dunn turn his head once he saw my exiled teammate return to the ice.
I shot the puck to Jax, hoping he would take it into Lion territory, but Levi Dunn had other plans. He charged straight at Jax, knocking him into the boards with a ferocity I’d never before seen. I’m not saying I had to cover my eyes, but it was pretty damned rough.
Honest to God, it looked like a dump truck running over an ice cream cone.
Let that sink in.
When my teammate hit the ice. I honestly wondered if he would get back up. The rest of the Riptides went after Levi, and I followed, at least pretending to give a damn about Levi’s nasty bastard of a hit.
Payback is a bitch. I couldn’t believe I’d called that phrase to mindagainstthe Riptides, especially with Larkin involved, but I couldn’t deny my team’s behavior reached beyond the pale.
The game officials needed several minutes to pull everyone apart and cool them down. Only suggesting that they could even be cooled down seemed so disingenuous. Both teams were fired up and there was no stopping them.
The lead official announced a two-minute penalty to Levi Dunn for roughing. Boos filled the arena because the crowd probably wanted Levi thrown out of the game entirely. I didn’t care what the refs did or didn’t do at that point. I just wanted the game to be over and done with in the worst way.
At least the Lions managed to capitalize on their power play. I sure as hell couldn’t say that about the Riptides. We wasted two whole minutes of five-on-four, constantly looking for shots to take.
Clay Morris knocked Jakob into the boards, using far more force than necessary. Once Jakob steadied himself, he responded by checking Morris back. Shit was about to get real. I skated up to them, feeling the overwhelming urge to slug my own teammate, but the Lions beat me to the punch (bothfiguratively and literally). Once again, the officials intervened to prevent a brawl that surely would’ve made the Colter Bay Grill incident look like Sunday School.
I stood back and gazed upon Jakob. God, he was so beautiful. He looked even more stunning when he was getting his ass kicked.
Okay, I know how weird that sounds. I guess I couldn’t help admiring him no matter the moment. He was vulnerable and had a bullseye on his back. I would’ve given anything to help him.
When he glanced at me, I hoped he felt the same way, at least without the vulnerable part. I only hoped he knew I had nothing to do with the bullshit my teammates were pulling.
But would that be enough? I knew what they’d planned to do, hadn’t warned Jakob, and had done nothing to stop my meathead teammate from hurting him.
Back on the ice, Levi Dunn finished the remainder of his penalty and returned to action. He slammed me into the boards, and I summoned all my might to absorb the hit. When he stole the puck from me, I chased him down the ice and checked him into the boards. Again, I did it the normal way, and didn’t try to take his head off. That I felt like I’d run into a brick wall was another matter altogether.
When I steadied myself, I advanced on the net and scored on Ryan Detenbeck. The crowd went nuts. That at least tied the game at one, and I could say I’d contributed my share to the team, even if my contribution didn’t include cheap shots.
When the period ended, I bowed my head and thanked God nothing seriously bad had happened.
Yet.
As we marched into the locker room, I swore I’d just finished the longest period of hockey I’d ever played.
But that was okay. We only had another forty minutes of regulation left to go, right?
24
JAKOB
To say that the game had gotten chippy in a big damn hurry would be an understatement. I’d fully expected intensity and animosity from these two teams, but I didn’t expect the game to turn ugly so fast. Oh hell, why don’t I come right out and say it—this was a fucking war.
The Lions and Riptides were tied at two goals apiece heading into the third period. I’d expected Coach Hardison to tear us a new one, saying that we were causing trouble with Remington, but he didn’t do that at all. Instead, the fiery look in his eyes gave him away. He knew what he’d told us and yet we needed to go out there and not just defend ourselves but come out on top.
When we returned to the ice, I craned my neck enough to glimpse at Zane sitting on the Riptide bench. I didn’t know how much he knew about what was going on here. Like, had it all been planned? Did he know about it? And did he at least try to talk his goons out of trying to hurt me?
In any case, he appeared unwilling to participate in it. Zane was an asshole sure, but not as much as the rest of his team. He, at least, was willing to play the game cleanly. He was also much more gorgeous than his teammates, but that was an aside.
I took the ice for the first shift of the second period, as did Zane. We met at center ice for the face off and stared deep into one another’s eyes. My knees weakened. That never happened during those moments. Normally, I focused so intensely, determined to psych out the other guy, that I didn’t have time to think about anyone’s exceeding beauty.
Zane challenged that. He made me feel so warm and tingly inside, even during such a moment, and I fought with myself to refocus my energy.
When the ref dropped the puck, I lunged forward, but Zane snatched it away. Then he pushed past me, advancing up the ice, toward our net. I chased, swiftly catching up with him, and checked the Riptide into the boards.
Yes, you read that right: I checked Zane Hirst into the boards, despite our insanely powerful feelings for one another and the Naked Olympics that highlighted our alone time. The difference here was that I used a normal amount of force and didn’t aim to take his head off.
