Page 27 of Stick It
“Captain.” There’s a stiffness to her tone that I don’t like, but I don’t call her out on it as I wave her over. She cautiously approaches.
“If Reed baits you like that again,” I begin, voice low but firm, “ignore him.”
She reels back, mouth dropping open as her eyes widen. “Ignore him?” she repeats, as though double-checking she heard me right.
“He’s looking for a reaction out of you. Hewantsyou to do something that will mess up your game.”
“And your solution is formeto ignorehim. Not to tell him to stop acting like a petulant three-year-old or give him consequences for starting shit during practice? Have I got that right,Captain?”
My teeth grind.Goddamn this woman.
“Are you going to do as I say or not, Carter?” I snap, straightening to my full height.
She taps her finger against her chin as though thinking about it. The action alone sends my blood pressure through the roof.This fucking woman. A goddamn thorn in my side. I don’thave the same issues with her as Kyle, but my God, is she starting to get under my skin. Her absolute lack of respect for authority. For the chain of command. Formycommand.
“I am the captain of this team,” I remind her sternly. “I amyourcaptain.”
Dylan drops her act, staring me straight in the eye. The flecks of gold in her irises spark to life beneath the bright lights of the arena, burning with a raw intensity. “Until you earn my respect, you’re not my anything. I value you as a player, as a teammate, but, so far, you haven’t done anything as a captain that I find worth respecting.”
With that, she stomps off in her skates, leaving me practically billowing steam in her wake. My hands clench at my sides, and I close my eyes, forcing myself to take a breath. To calm the blood pumping through my system. To just breathe.
Snapping them open, I look up to find Griffin staring at me. Jesus, how long has he been doing that for? “Got a problem, Price?”
He smirks, shaking his head. I get the strange sense he’s laughing at me, but you never quite know with Griffin. He’s a bit of an oddball. Shoots the shit, plays the part, but I’ve always sensed something…off about him.
“Nope.”
Before I can ask him what the hell he’s looking at then, he walks off.
Jesus, what a shitshow of a day.
“Everyone hit the showers!” I bark, rounding up the stragglers still hanging around the rink. I follow them down the tunnel, yanking off my helmet and running my fingers through my sweat-slicked hair as I push it out of my face. Before I step into the locker room, I force out a breath, trying to regain control over my emotions. To find some semblance of control.
I’m pissed at Coach for putting me in this situation. At Reedfor being a grade-A asshole. At Dylan for choosingmyteam to make her stand. Why the hell couldn’t she just have stayed at her old college?
This is a complete disaster, and I fear it’s only going to get worse. Reed’s already teetering on the edge, and if Friday doesn’t go the way he expects, he’s going to blow. I’m not the only one who realizes that. I can feel the rest of the team exchanging glances as I step into the locker room, wondering the same thing I am—what the hell is going to happen come Roster Day?
And how the hell do I keep this team from blowing up with him?
9
DYLAN
The confrontationwith Kyle and my argument with Ethan still burns under my skin as I trudge into the locker room. My legs feel like lead, and my arms ache from practice, but none of it compares to the frustration boiling in my chest.
“Such a menace,” Jax whispers under his breath as he stalks past me. “Causing trouble wherever you go.” His eyes latch on to mine, amusement dancing in his dark depths.
He’s marching over to his own locker before I can say anything. And perhaps that’s for the best, given my altercation with Ethan by the rink. Not that I regret what I said. He was the one in the wrong. He’sbeenmaking the wrong calls, starting with his stupidignoremerule. What sort of harebrained nonsense is that, anyway? Stupidest advice I’ve ever heard. Since when does burying your head in the sand and pretending something doesn’t exist actually solve anything?
Shaking my head, I keep my eyes down, ignoring the stares from other players as they glance over my skin. Despite how he reacted, Ethan was right about one thing. I shouldn’t have let Kyle get to me like that. I know better. Ignore the shit they say. Tune it out. Let it slide off. But it’s hard—so damn hard—topretend it doesn’t prickle when someone’s constantly talking shit about you, blaming you for things you didn’t do.
My throat tightens as my fingers fumble with the straps on my gear, but I shove it down. Stripping off my pads, I set them aside in neat piles. Beneath my gear, I’ve got on a sports bra and tight shorts that I’ll strip off once I’m in the shower cubicle. My skin is damp with sweat, which quickly cools in the locker room’s air conditioning. However, I barely notice.
What I do notice is Ethan. I watch him strip out of his gear from the corner of my eye, still unable to wrap my head around the fact that he stepped in between me and Kyle. Kyle was about to lose it—I could see it in the way his eyes narrowed and his shoulders hunched. I’ve seen that look before. I know what happens next. I was already bracing myself, ready to shove him off if he tried something.
That’s what I’ve always had to do. My old team? No one ever stepped in. Not the players, not the coach, and definitely not the captain. He didn’t care if the guys cornered me after practice or slammed me into the boards during drills.
At least, not until last year…
