Page 105 of Bagging the Blueliner
Not that there was any such thing as “easy” when it came to the playoffs.
Each team entering the two-month-long gauntlet laid before us knew that any team could win it all. Anything could happen when you played the same team multiple times in a row. Momentum swings were sometimes more precious than goals. A team could be in the hole two games, then rally back to win the next three and win a series.
Often, it boiled down to which team sustained the least injuries and was the hungriest.
My favorite part of this year’s playoff run—which could very well be my last—was the longer stretches on the road in one place. Too many times, my adrenaline would be through the roof after an intense away game win, and I couldn’t burn it off the way I wanted to with Hannah as we were stuck flying home or to our next location on an extended trip. Now, we played two games in a row in the same city early in a series, and there was no more powerful motivator to win than knowing she’d be ready and waiting in my room when I got back.
Knocking off Philly in five games, we got a short break before squaring off in round two against the Indy Speed. It seemed like every year we clashed with them in our quest to win it all. Being divisional rivals meant we played often, and knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses as well as our own. They’d added some new blood this year, and if we could make it past them, I was sure we could get to the Championship.
We needed to win this series.
Plus, the image of Maddox’s hand up Hannah’s skirt was permanently burned into my brain. When we took them down in Game 3 in Indianapolis, I made sure to remind Hannah who she belonged to.
It wasn’t Maddox or any other man. It was me.
Coming down to breakfast the following day, leaving Hannah asleep in my bed, I took up my usual seat between Jaxon andBenji. Digging into my plate of eggs and bacon, I glanced at Benji, who had dark circles under his eyes.
“Stay out too late partying after the win last night?” I teased.
His storm-gray eyes shot me a glare. “No, I shared a wall with someone with a particularly vocal bed partner and couldn’t fall asleep with all the noise.”
Cringing, knowing he meant me, I gave him a pat on the back. “Sorry about that, man.”
“I could have sworn you were killing her in there the way she was screaming. How many blue pills did you have to take to last that long?”
Biting back a smile, I replied, “You should be so lucky when you’re my age. Everything’s still in perfect working order.”
“Whatever,” he grumbled. “I’m going to have a word with Hannah to make sure we never have rooms next to each other again.”
Jaxon began choking on his food. Reaching to my left, I gave him a firm smack on the back to dislodge whatever had gotten caught in his windpipe. “Chew your food, buddy.”
Clearing his throat several times, Jaxon shot me a glare.
Yeah, yeah. I know.
Benji mused, “You know, there was something familiar about the way she was screaming your name.”
Water flew out of Jaxon’s mouth in response.
Jesus, he had zero chill. His over-the-top reactions were going to get me in more trouble than whatever Benji heard last night through the wall.
Widening my eyes at him, I worked to keep my voice calm. “You’re struggling today, man. I’ve seen Charlie make less of a mess while eating.”
Benji remained utterly oblivious. “Was she a bunny you hit up the last time we were here? I know I’ve heard that voice before.”
Nodding, I took another bite of my eggs. “Yeah.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. Hannah and I had fucked the last time the team came to Indy, but she wasn’t a bunny. I was the first player she’d ever slept with, and if I had my way, I would be the last.
I felt, rather than saw, my shirt collar being tugged to the side. Jumping back, I saw shock on Benji’s face as he reached out again to get a better look at my neck where it met my shoulder.
“Jesus, are those bite marks? Are you fucking women or mountain lions?” Benji asked, his tone a mix of shock and awe.
Shrugging my shoulders, I brushed his hand away. “Can’t help it if they get a little rough.”
Standing, Benji grabbed his empty plate, shaking his head as he walked away. “A pierced dick will make girls do crazy shit.”
When I was sure he was out of earshot, I glanced around to ensure we wouldn’t be overheard before leaning close to Jaxon’s ear. “You need to get a fucking grip.”
