Page 96 of Playoff
It wasn’t exactly a declaration of undying love and whirling me in a circle while we exchanged passionate kisses. He was holding back, not sure of me. Of us. He had his own issues with trust and people leaving, and what I’d done that night had made it worse. He was right—on paper we didn’t work. This could be the biggest mistake of my life. But I was ready to try anyway.
I stood up. My knees were wobbly, but it didn’t show through my jeans. “I don’t care about what your parents did, or that my twin works with you. I want you. I want us. What do you want?”
He stared at me for a moment before the corner of his mouth quirked up, just slightly. “If we do this, we’re doing everything.”
“That’s exactly what I want. Everything, with you.”
Alek finally moved, coming forward, putting a finger under my chin. “Then let’s do it, Trouble.”
I reached up to kiss him. His hand slid to the back of my neck and he pulled me close. This kiss was slow and gentle, bridging the hurts of the past few days and making promises for the future. It didn’t take long before it became hotter, more demanding. I could feel his erection as we pushed past promises and hit lust territory.
I broke away and grabbed his hand. “My room is this way.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You sure? What about JJ?”
I gave him a big grin. “As long as you don’t ask him for a selfie in the morning.”
Chapter 39
I don’t have a crowbar
Alek
* * *
Game four. Home ice. We were down three games to none in this first round of the playoffs. And now, with five minutes to play, we hadn’t scored a goal. We’d have to score three in the next few minutes to get a tie and hope we could do something in overtime. That was just to get us to a game five.
Wasn’t going to happen.
We’d fought hard in the first game. We were tied at the end of regulation and went into overtime where we’d lost on a flukey goal. Then Deek missed game two because of a stupid flu that started to work through the locker room. We hadn’t been able to make up for missing three of our top players and we’d lost badly. Game three, we were still missing Deek, and Crash was out too.
We’d come out determined and desperate this game. We all wanted to avoid the sweep. I especially wanted to prolong the playoffs as long as I could. Once they were over, I’d have to face my future and it wasn’t going to be with the Blaze.
But Oppy had gone out in the first period as the flu finally caught up with him, and the guys they’d brought up from the Inferno to make up for those gaps just weren’t the same. A couple of them had real talent, but they didn’t know our systems. They were too often out of position, and we weren’t going to make it.
Still, I called Fitch and Royster over.
“We’ve got to put one up there,” I said, nodding my head at the Jumbotron above us. “Let’s give the fans something from this shit show.”
“If—when I win the face-off, who am I passing to?” Fitch asked.
“Royster, can you get it across the blue line?”
His jaw flexed. “I will.”
“I’ll follow you and give it my best.”
Fitch tapped my stick with his. “Let’s do this.”
We lined up for the puck drop with renewed determination. One goal. We could do that. Their goalie had been a wall, but no one was perfect.
It didn’t go according to plan. Fitch lost the face-off, but Royster managed to intercept the pass and got it to Fitch. I waited till he’d crossed the blue line then shoved forward, just managing to get the puck on my stick when an opposing player tried to block me. I headed straight for the goal, spinning away from a check just in time.
Their goalie knew what we were doing. He was laser focused on me, just the two of us in this duel. But out of the corner of my eye I saw Fitch clear his man and I passed, leaving Fitch to slip it into the net.
The arena exploded with applause, but with two minutes left we ran out of time. The final score was 3-1, and that was the end of our playoffs. We’d been swept.
It was a discouraged group that went through the handshake line, and we couldn’t escape to our locker room quickly enough.
