Page 4 of Bitter Pucking Rivals

“See something you like?” Sanders says, catching me off guard as an intense heat rushes across my cheeks and up the back of my neck. “My, my. The least you can do before checking me out is ask for my first name, you know.” In just a few sentences, he has me backed in a corner. It’s like he’s in my head, invading my mind. And now I feel just like I do on the rink when facing him: vulnerable. This guy knows which buttons of mine to push in order to make me lose my footing.

But I’m not one to back down without a fight. “I could have sworn you looked a lot scarier under your helmet, but I’m just in utter disbelief at how dainty you actually look,” I say, clawing my way out of this figurative hole. The way his scarlet lips tug up into a smile sends me a really bad signal.He thinks he has the upper hand.

“So, you think I look pretty?” Sanders counters me almost immediately, knocking the wind out of me although I’m still seated. Typically I’m the clever one in my friend groups, and here I am, getting knocked around effortlessly. “Hayden Parker,” he continues, "I didn’t know you were that much of a flirt! You can at least take me out to dinner first before you try to sweet talk me.”

I almost let out a groan of annoyance, but that would mean I’ve let him win. And I don’t want him to win. On the bright side, I have the entire week ahead of us to deal with this guy, so there will be plenty of opportunities to get the upper hand as the days go on.

“You’re demented,” I say emotionlessly, standing up and starting to walk away from him.

“It’s Theo, by the way,” he informs in a shout before I’m fully out of earshot.

I don’t know why I turn around to face him again, but in an instant I’m staring at his white teeth and his blue eyes shining bright underneath the afternoon sun. “But you can call me anything you want—so long as you keep those lovely gray eyes on me.”

Another intense heat surges to my skin’s surface, prompting me to turn away for good this time. I refuse to let him see me flustered like this. At least, not again.

When I approach the diner, I can see the boys about to leave, so I wait for them outside, rubbing my hands together to warm myself up. My cheeks may still be stinging, but the rest of my body is responding to the chill of the air as we move further north. As my palms heat up, I place them on my still-flushed cheeks and let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness it’s starting to freeze out here; my body’s need to stay warm is a good coverup for the fact that I guy from the other team has made me blush like a schoolgirl.

Stupid Theo Sanders and his stupid little comebacks. I’ll get him. I swear on it. I. Will. Get. Him.

CHAPTER FIVE

3:37 pm

HAYDEN

At this pointthere’s no denying that there’s something about road trips that take the life out of me, but thankfully, we’ve made it to Canada. The sun is nowhere to be found, there’s snow on the ground, and I’m not prepared for the chill-you-to-the-bone cold that people have warned me about.

Our bus slows to a stop at a compound that’s just on the outskirts of the city. There are other buses pulling up, as well as a few that are already parked in this massive lot. In the distance, there’s a courtyard where some players are loitering as masses of us alight from our team vehicles.

In my peripheral vision, I can see the Wildwood University bus, and I’m trying my best to not look at Theo Sanders, but I can’t lie about the fact that his words have left me in slight shambles. I’ve bantered with the guys before, and it’s not a rare occurrence for us to so-called “flirt” with our friends. It’s not romantic, of course, as it’s just joking around and messing with one another, but I have never—ever—seen someone flirt with their enemies. Theo’s throwing me off guard, to say the least. I’m not quite sure what it is about him that allows him to get under my skin so easily.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t our favorite rivals.” Xavier greets us boisterously as he and his team walk over. Weirdly enough, he’s the first to offer Julian a handshake. He isn’t typically this polite, but I have bigger things to focus on than his sudden pleasantries.

Julian shakes Xavier’s hand. “Nice to see you again, Xavier,” he says before turning to the group of guys behind the captain. “Wolverines,” he courteously adds. “Looking forward to a fun week with you guys.

Xavier’s smile is scaring me, because that man is beaming from ear to ear. It’s completely unusual and incredibly unsettling.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be a blast!” Xavier exclaims, patting Julian’s shoulder twice. “We’ll see you guys inside,” he says to the rest of us. Only a few guys have the courtesy to respond with a nod or a wave, likely because this is all too freaky for anyone who’s used to Xavier’s wild ways.

With that, the Wolverines leave us to go inside the main building, where no doubt our coaches and the rest of the staff are waiting for us. Players from other colleges also make their way inside in a slow drip of people, leaving only us Somerset players out in the cold.

I share a look with Ansel, and he seems as weirded out by this as I am. But there’s a change in the air, and out of the blue, I’m starting to get a slightly giddy feeling about this whole training camp. “I think things just got a little more interesting, old buddy,” I say to my roommate as I wrap my arm around his shoulders while we walk to join the rest of the players.

“You might just be right, my friend. Just don’t trip on your face, yeah?” Ansel teases, poking my sides as we enter through the door where we’re greeted by a spacious open area that seems to be the compound’s event hall. There’s a large LED screen on the other end of the hall, showing us welcoming messages and fun facts about Toronto. “Don’t worry,” Ansel continues. “I’ll make sure to pick up the slack if you do.”

When we first heard of this divisional training week, I expected a cute little camp where I would have to share a room full of bunk beds with my team or something. But, from the looks of it, this experience will be more like a five-star hotel, complete with ornate trophies and hockey paraphernalia, ornate flooring and molding, and a huge skylight here in the lobby that looks straight up to the cloudy sky.

We’re informed that a welcome ceremony is about to unfold, and each player is to line up with their respective team in preparation.

Coach Edmund walks up to the podium placed in front of the LED screen, leaving behind a table with the rest of the coaches as he apparently prepares to give a speech. Out of all of the coaches here in the event hall, Coach Edmund looks the most experienced. Sure, I could be biased, but it is what it is.

“Welcome to the training camp, boys.” Coach Edmund’s greeting is warm as ever, accompanied by his signature smile and soft tone. As per usual, his delivery comforts me like a reassuring hug, his kind demeanor instilling in me the confidence I need to take this week’s challenges and meet them head-on. “Over the next week, you all will participate in an intense training program that aims to build camaraderie within your respective teams, while also helping youngsters like you establish friendships with fellow hockey players from other teams,” Coach Edmund explains.

I can’t help but look at the Wildwood Wolverines all lined up right next to us. A little ways up front from where I am stands Theo. Somehow, Theo has detected me looking right at him, because not a second later, his dirty blonde head turns around to face me. His blue eyes catch mine, but this time, I don’t falter. Theo smiles at me, his face brimming with sunshine as opposed to his usual cold demeanor. And this time, I blush without turning my head.

“And I know you all are a little tight and stiff from your long road trip, so your coaches and I think that maybe a friendly match would do everyone good so you guys can loosen up,” Coach Edmund continues, once again catching my attention. I’ll admit, I kind of zoned out a little bit there, but I’m surprised to find that we’re getting into the thick of things so quickly. I haven’t even gotten to my room yet.

What surprises me even more is that there’s a mischievous grin spreading across Coach Edmund’s wise face. I’ve been under his wing for four years, and so have Julian, Dom, Ansel, and Evan. We all share a look, knowing that a curveball is about to be thrown our way.

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