Page 18 of Crazy Pucking Love
I couldn’t imagine wanting to have sex so badly that I couldn’t wait till my roommate wasn’t in the room, but I supposed the dorm situation didn’t provide many opportunities for that. Having people digging into my family’s life all the time had turned me into someone who craved privacy. “Next year, I’m definitely going to move into an apartment.”
At the loud cheers, I turned my attention to the ice. There was a fast breakaway, Dane and Hudson passing it back and forth again, but this time the shot was blocked by the opposing team’s goalie.
The next play, the other team scored again, and I could tell our boys were getting flustered.
“Not to make this all about us,” Lyla said, biting at her thumbnail. “But if this game doesn’t turn around soon, we’re going to have some grouchy boyfriends to deal with tonight.”
I supposed that should make me happy that Dane and I weren’t a couple. Too bad when I saw him racing across the ice, my body decided to betray me and think about how nice it’d be to be the one to hug him, kiss him, and find new, fun ways to console him. My brain got in on it, too, flooding with snapshots of him grinning and laughing.
My heart skipped a couple of beats, and longing rose up and wound around it, making it clear that claiming any happiness over not being able to call him my boyfriend would only make me a liar.
Chapter Ten
Dane
Shit.
Even though we’d trained hard this week, we looked gassed. Our offense was crumbling, and so was our defense. I missed that last shot—a shot that should’ve been easy—and during time out, Coach lit into us.
“That asshole guarding you is holding,” Hudson said as we skated back onto the ice. “Next time he comes near you, I’ll check him. You take the puck and get it in the fucking net.”
I nodded. Both of us knew Hudson would probably end up in the penalty box afterward, but as long as I scored, it’d be worth it.
We set up the play, and when my defender skated over to try to hold, like he’d been doing all game, Hudson barreled into him. I didn’t look back, simply skated as fast as I could, faked left, then shot…
It soared in, the red lights flashed, and I threw up my hands. When I spun to search for my teammates, I noticed things were about to get ugly between Hudson and the Ohio State defender.
A penalty was one thing, but having Hudson ejected from the game, not to mention next week’s for fighting, was too high a cost for one measly point. I skated over and got in between them. “Bro, it’s not worth it,” I said to Hudson. “Remember?”
As we started away, the guy hooked Hudson’s leg with his stick, sending him crashing to the ice.
Anger ignited and I swung, clocking the prick under the chin. His cheap move had gone unnoticed by the refs.
But mine…? They sure as hell noticed mine.
…
The party at the Quad was supposed to make me feel better, but I still felt like shit. I got ejected from the game for fighting, and in addition to getting my ass chewed by Coach—he didn’t care what the other guy had done, I should have kept my temper, yadda, yadda, yadda—I couldn’t play next game, either. Luckily it was one of the teams we’d spanked earlier in the season, so I was confident the guys would easily win, but nothing was worse than sitting on the sidelines helpless while the rest of your team played.
I should’ve kept my temper. I didn’t usually lose my cool, but usually people weren’t stupid enough to go after Hudson, either.
My best friend handed me a cup filled to the brim with beer. “Sorry again, man. If I hadn’t taunted him—”
“Like I said before, it’s not your fault. I just lost it.”
“I know, and that’s unlike you.” Hudson took a sip from his cup. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Did something happen when you went home?”
Of course he’d pick up on it—we grew up in the same neighborhood in the Bronx, my house a couple of streets down from the apartment complex he and his mom lived in. Truth was, I’d been on edge all week thanks to everything back home. Lissa hadn’t answered my calls, or bothered to call me back, despite the voicemails I’d left, and it was looking more and more like I’d need to try things from the Jazmine angle.
All I’d need to do was mention my ex’s name for Hudson to get part of the story. The three of us had grown up together, although he and she had always clashed—he’d wanted me to breakup with her before we’d started college, and sometimes I wondered if I had, if everything would’ve worked out differently in the end.
If she’d be better or worse for it. If I would be. I might have to deal with less of one type of guilt, but no doubt the other type would always be there.
But bringing up her name, and even talking about my worry over Lissa with Hudson would just dredge up the past, and I didn’t want to deal with it right now. “Just regular crap. You know how it is.”
