Page 89 of No Pucks

“He was the team manager for New York. Why the fuck would he take a step down and coach college? Trying to get on the team his son plays on, I get that. But this?” Anthony shoves both hands into his hair.

“How easy is it to find a job this quickly?” I can only assume this didn’t just come up. He had to have talked someone into it. He knows what he’s doing. Mother hasn’t spoken to him since she ended things, so I assume he’s trying to get to herand me. He’s probably low on cash too, but this is unforgivable, especially without telling me.

Anthony sits next to me, putting his arm around me. “I’m sorry.”

I glance over at him. “It’s not your fault he’s an asshole, but as you can see, it’s not just you he treats like shit. It’s everyone he’s not using.”

“Do you still want to play?”

I harden, lifting my gaze. “Don’t you fucking dare not start me when we’re facing him.” The fucking shame knowing how my father would react if I’d been on the primary line only to get pulled for him... My hands clench into fists. “Don’t do that to me.”

He appraises my reaction as cold as I’m feeling. “Okay, I won’t change the lineup, but if this affects your playing, Iwilltake you out.”

“If you think I haven’t learned how to use hating my father to my benefit after eighteen years, you drastically underestimate how often he’s done this kind of shit to me.”

Anthony looks into my eyes then and leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead in a totally unexpected gesture. “I believe you.” Those words mean more than he could possibly know. I don’t know why, but something about his trust and taking me at my word eases a part of my soul.

“Thank you.” I let out a pent up breath, sitting there another minute before I force myself up. “We need to get back out there before the team starts asking fucking questions.”

“You’re right.” Anthony gets to his feet next to me but doesn’t move to leave the room he’d pulled us into.

“What?”

“I—”

“Spit it out.” I harden myself off to whatever might come, so used to people disappointing me that it feels normal.

“I hate that he does this to you. I hate that I let him do this to me. He has taken so much from both of us. I can live with mine, but him hurting you makes me want to fucking kill him.” He holds my eyes through his whole speech.

I grab both sides of his face and kiss him hard. It’s stupid to do it out here, in the open, where anyone could come around the corner, but I do it anyway. “Let’s murder his team. That will be enough for me.”

“Me too.” He takes another kiss before making himself back up.

I grab his hand and put it where my cup is pushed out by my damn hard-on. “Now I have to play like this.”

“Why am I to blame?” he asks playfully, and he’s almost smiling.

With how few times I’ve seen him smile, I want it. I crave it. It’s going to become a game. “Because you are being all sexy and murderous. Who wouldn’t get hard by that?”

He rolls his eyes. “You aren’t supposed to be turned on by that.”

“What should I be?”

He trips over his words but stops himself. “I guess turned on isn’t bad, but it does say something about the kind of person you’re attracted to.”

“Is the person who likes it or the person who does it worse?”

“Stop making me think.” He shoves me back before looking at his watch. “Go back to the locker room. I’ll be in once my hard-on goes down.”

He doesn’t follow me, and I assume it’s more than his hard-on. I’m sure he needs time to get his own head straight, and I can’t blame him. It’s the first time he’ll have to face my father fully since the injury.

I hate my father enough for hurting my mom and even more for Anthony. I need to play well for both of them. I need to spitin my father’s face for this. Not even a fucking text—he wanted to catch me off guard. He hated I chose to play for the Gods instead of the Monsters. Him going to coach there is a direct fuck you to me.

“What did Coach want?” Colt asks when I pick up my stick, checking the tape.

It’s not like I can keep this a secret. They know who my father is. “What?” I ask, not wanting them to know how much this affects me.

“You and Coach?” Wolfe asks, letting me know the entire team was talking about it before I came in here.

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