Page 76 of Skate the Line

“Idi nakhuy.”The Russian slips from my mouth by accident, but it trips Alexeyev up. He pauses, likely due to surprise, and I smirk. Not everyone knows that I’m part-Russian since I added the A to my last name years ago. I love to use that to my advantage.

I wind my stick back and send it flying across the ice.

In hockey, plays move quickly. Offense switches to defense in the blink of an eye.

But to me, things are slow.

The crowd ceases to exist. The puck slaps Malaki’s stick, and it soars through the legs of Barret and hits the back of the net.

I grin and raise my stick in the air.

Malaki does his godforsaken celly, sending the fans into a frenzy.

The buzzer sounds and cancels out the sound of Alexeyev’s Russian slander in my direction.

He heads right for me.

My blood runs hot.

I don’t engage in fighting on the ice…unless provoked.

One hit to my jaw, and fists are flying.

Though, they’re not mine.

To no surprise, Kane is front and center, coming to my rescue.

Or most likely fueling his fill of aggression—as always.

We all have our reasons for getting into hockey. I became dangerously obsessed with it when my father left. It filled a gap in my life. For Kane? I suspect he was an angry child, and he got into hockey for the mere fact that it helped calm him.

It just turns out he’s a damn good player.

Angry, but good.

“That’s enough, Kane.” I grab him by the collar of his jersey.

The Flames back off with the help of the refs, and the teams begin heading back into the locker rooms to reset. Kane brushes me off, no one saying a word about the fight. We both step off the ice, and he glances at me.

His grin is bloody. “Just remember me coming to your rescue later when you want to punch me.”

I pause, and he winks.

“Why are you like this?”

My thoughts immediately go to Sunny. He’s been talking about her since the moment he laid eyes on her. I know it’s only to irritate me, because that’s justhim.

His laugh is manic, and goddamn, he’s a crazy son of a bitch.

Before following him, I decided to backtrack. I turn and glance at the suite. I spot Ellie first, as always. She has her back pressed against the glass with her now messy braids swinging over her shoulders. I see cotton candy in her hand. She must have talked Sunny into getting it for her.

I plead with myself to turn around and head to the locker room, but my eyes betray me. Sunny’s warm brown hair pulledinto a messy knot grabs my attention like a magnet. I stare at her bouncing bun for a second before something cools my heated skin.

Where the fuck did she getthatjersey?

My fists clench.

I glance down the long dark hallway, ignoring the curious looks from fans.

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