Page 155 of Of Pucking Course

I almost laugh. We’re not good. Not even close.

He walks off. I turn around and walk back into the locker room, even more frustrated and pissed off and unsure of what to do about it.

Chapter 55

Dakota

When I hear the door open, I hop up off the couch.

When I see the sad look on Sam’s face as he drops his luggage and gear bag on the floor, my chest tightens. I run over and hug him.

“I’m so sorry about the game,” I say softly as I nuzzle his chest.

He doesn’t say anything. He just hugs me tight and lets out a soft hum. He buries his face in my hair and inhales.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

I lean up and kiss him. “I baked some banana bread for you with that cinnamon butter you like so much. I know that doesn’t make up for the loss, but I thought it might be nice.”

His eyes brighten and his mouth curves up in a small smile. “It’s the perfect surprise. Thank you.”

We walk over to the kitchen, and I pull out the loaf of banana bread I’ve been keeping warm in the oven.

Sam rips a hunk off and devours it. He closes his eyes and hums. “So good,” he says around a mouthful.

I smile, happy that I could make him feel a little better when he’s so down from the Bashers’ loss to New York.

He leans down and presses a quick kiss to my mouth. “This is exactly what I needed.”

He grabs me by the waist and lifts me onto the counter, then stands between my legs as he eats another hunk of banana bread.

I run my fingers through his hair. “How are you feeling?” I ask, then shake my head. “Terrible question, sorry.”

He smiles softly. “It’s okay. I’m definitely upset about the loss. Especially since it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Sam. Your stick broke. There’s nothing you could have done about that.”

He pulls his lips into his mouth and gazes off to the side. “Maybe not.”

“What do you mean?”

His broad chest rises and falls with the breath that he takes. “This probably sounds nuts, but I think the equipment manager might have something to do with my stick breaking.”

“Really?”

He shrugs. “I probably sound paranoid, but it’s been hanging at the back of my mind. Remember when my stick broke during that game before the playoffs?”

I nod.

“I noticed that they broke in the same spot. Right in the middle of the blade.”

“That’s so weird.”

“I talked to the equipment manager, Will, about it, just to see if he had been handling the equipment the right way, and he got really defensive.”

Sam hesitates for a second, and that’s when I put it together.

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