Page 21 of Play Maker

“Rowland!”

Shit. I turned around to find Coach Banning staring me down.

“Get on the ice, you’re already late!”

“Yes, sir,” I replied automatically.

I shuffled off to the locker room but before I entered, I glanced over my shoulder to find Dane standing at the end of the hallway, giving me an evil grin and mouthing ‘burn’. I gave him my best finger in return and then hauled ass to get changed.

When I snuck out of the locker room all kitted up (in record time, I might add), I ambled down the chute to find Axel practicing with Coach. Great. Ax was already busy kissing ass.

“Add another fifteen minutes to your time tonight,” Coach announced, glancing at me and then at Axel. “Both of you.”

Axel glanced over at me and his glare was frostier than this rink. Fuck me.

“Do your usual warm-up for fifteen and then we’re working on advanced drills,” Coach stated.

I did my stretches and then took off down the ice.

We did laps around the rink, Axel skated on one side and me on the other. Around and back the other way, until I felt my muscles loosen up. I glanced over and noticed Coach had set up five sets of pylons and sticks, three in a row near the blue line, and then another two sets leading up to the net.

“Alright,” Coach yelled out. “Quick hands, 360 drill. I’m timing. Rowland, you’re up first. Lund, notice how he handles the puck, any patterns—good and bad—and how he approaches the net. Rowland, the same goes for you when it’s Lund’s turn. We’re doing ten rounds. After that, you’re working on passing drills. Let’s go.”

For some reason, I was suddenly self-conscious like I never was on the ice. Probably because I’d never practiced one on one with Axel before. Then I looked up and realized Axel’s eyes were burning a hole in my jersey. If he thought that was going to make me flub in front of him, he could think again.

With a quick flick of my stick I nabbed the puck and took off, skating between the pylons, flipping the puck back and forth, then around and over to the net, taking my shot. I turned around and faced Axel, giving him my best smirk. He leaned on his stick and stared at me like I was a strange specimen in a lab. Fuck him.

“Was that beautiful or what?” I gloated as I held my arms out.

Coach shook his head, but Axel’s hard expression never wavered, his mouth set in a grim line.

He was going to get lockjaw at this rate.

“You’re dragging your left foot,” Axel stated.

“The fuck you say?” I snapped.

“Hey!” Coach interrupted.

I bit my lower lip. “Sorry, Coach.”

“He’s got a point,” Banning replied with a raised eyebrow. “You tend to lean into your right. Do it again.”

Turning around, I headed for the pylons and repeated the drill. This time, instead of being distracted by my dickhead teammate, I focused on my footwork. After I slid the puck into the net, I swiveled around, and spotted Coach’s approving stare.

“Better,” he said. “Did you notice how much faster you were that time?”

I didn’t want to admit it, but Coach—and Axel—was right. I nodded.

“Sometimes we get complacent because skating is second nature to us. Don’t make that mistake.”

Then it was Axel’s turn. The last thing I wanted to do was study him, but then again, if I wanted that center spot, I needed to know everything about him. Keep your enemies close and all that.

When it came to hockey, that is.

Despite his bulkier frame, Axel moved with an agility that was undeniable. But it was his stickhandling that caught my attention (no, not that kind). And this was why he was so great at making assists; his reaction time was lightning quick. If he wasn’t such an ass, I’d be tempted to admire him.

He made to take his shot on goal, but there was a moment of hesitation before the blade of his stick connected with the puck. Interesting. Was this just a one-off?

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