Page 30 of Body Check
“Well, maybe I’ll get tired of you.” I’m aiming to tease him and lighten the mood, but I miss the mark by a mile, and I feel like a jerk when I see his lips curve downward into a frown.
“Most people would be amazed you’ve put up with me for this long,” he says.
I scowl. “ I’m not ‘putting up with you’. I like you. A lot. But it’s still so new. Let’s just see where this goes. If it becomes something, then we’ll tell him. How does that sound?” I ask.
“I guess I just don’t get it,” he admits. “What’s the worst that can happen? He gets mad? Let him throw a tantrum. I’m not the kind of guy who hides the woman I'm with.”
Damn Dutton Wagner. I’d be swooning if I weren't brainstorming ways to convince him to conceal our relationship, at least to start. I decide to be honest.
“Please?” I ask. “I just need a little time.”
For a full thirty seconds, I’m not a hundred percent sure what his answer is going to be. But then he reaches for me. “Fuck me. I’m incapable of saying no to you, so I guess we’ll keep things quiet for now. The minute you’re ready to go public, just say the word. I’ll claim you so damn fast, Bridgette. I won't hesitate to let anyone know you’re mine and I’m yours.”
14
Dutton
When I hear the whistle blow, I skate to my spot on the line. Practice officially ended almost an hour ago, and most of my teammates are back home, but Coach Novotny, JT, Leo, and I are still going at it. Novotny blows his whistle again, and I pass the puck to Leo, who shoots high into the corner so JT can practice blocking. We run the drill a million times from a million angles, but when JT finally skates to the crease and pulls his mask up, I’m stunned it’s time to head out. I could do this shit all night.
“You calling it quits already?” I ask our goalie because I’m an ass like that.
JT barely reacts, except for the middle finger he aims in my direction as he lifts his water bottle to his mouth and guzzles some down.
“Sorry to cut playtime short, Wagner,” Coach Novotny deadpans, “but I’d like my goalie to have functioning limbs when our season starts in two weeks.”
“Gee, thanks, Coach. I’m feeling the love,” JT quips.
“I’m being totally selfish. How are we going to win another championship if you can’t feel your arms or legs?” Novotnyjokes. He’s maybe fifteen years older than we are, and he’s got a little girl he’s raising on his own, but he’s still here grinding with us after hours. Don’t worry, I’m not going to get all mushy and shit, but the coaches here really are different than the guys in charge at Woodcock. Which, really, isn’t all that hard if you’re a decent human being.
“Nice work tonight, guys,” Coach says, tucking his clipboard under his arm and skating toward the boards. He stops short at the edge of the ice. “And in case you need me to make it crystal clear, that was code forhit the damn showers. My sitter will be pissed if I’m late again this week, and so will my daughter, so hurry the hell up, all right?”
“Loud and clear,” JT calls back, and I know that’s because he’s got a baby girl—and a girlfriend, waiting on him, too. “Thanks for sticking around,” he says to us, "I appreciate it. And Wagner, I’m impressed you passed the puck for an hour straight. I had no clue you knew how to share.”
I fire double birds at him, even if he does have a point.
JT just laughs as he skates across the ice. “Let’s go, guys. I’ve got places to be.”
“Same, “ Leo says. He’s a quiet guy, laidback, but reserved, and I respect the hell out of that. His work ethic is insane, especially for a freshman, but if he plays the way he practices, he’ll be skating on my line in no time.
“You got big plans?” JT asks him, grinning wide. “Don’t stay out too late, and grab some condoms before you go. Turns out those things really do expire. Although Calla could use a playmate…”
Leo just rolls his eyes as we make our way into the locker room. “I’m going back to the hockey house. We’re having a Warrior’s Quest tournament, and I made it to the second round, which means I’m up against Dime tonight.”
JT nods as though a video game tournament is an acceptable way to spend a Thursday night. Then he turns his eyes on me. “How about you, Wagner? You heading out to Jock Block for a party? Or are you going to hide here in the locker room and then run drills by yourself tonight after we’ve all left?”
“You got me,” I say as I head for the showers, because I might not be a social butterfly, but I know how to play along. What I want to say is that I miss my girl, because I haven’t seen her since yesterday afternoon. I want to say that I don’t care how pathetic that sounds because in a damn short amount of time, Bridgette has become important to me. Scratch that. She’s become everything to me. If I told these guys that right now, they would laugh in my face because who falls ass over tits for someone this fast?
And if they knew it was Bridgette, they’d beat my ass.
JT plays nice because he’s objective about the game, and he knows damn well that his team needs me, but that’s hockey. It’s business. Outside of this building, though? I have no doubt he’d do his best to hold me down and let Mickey get a few punches in.
And honestly? I get it. These guys barely trust me as a teammate, so no way are they going to trust me to date Mickey’s beloved sister. Now that I’ve started to be ever so slightly more social and tune into the conversations around me, I’ve heard Bridgette’s name a few times. The guys all love her, and not just because she gives them haircuts. Just like they’re protective as hell of Mickey, they’d rally for Bridgette, too. That means I have to show them I’m not the enemy. I have to earn their respect and their trust.
And goddammit, that means I have to be friendly and shit.
I shudder at the thought, but there’s no other option. I hate hiding our relationship already, and it’s only been about forty-eight hours. Granted, I’m not outright lying. I don’t really talk about my personal life to anyone but Blue. I doubt any ofthe guys on the team even know my dad was in an accident this summer, or that his recovery has been rough. Hell, they probably don’t even know that Blue and I grew up around here. I keep to myself. I’ve always been this way. But keeping my connection to Bridgette under wraps isn’t just about being a lone wolf, it’s about lying, and that just feels wrong because Bridgette’s the kind of woman I’m fucking proud to have on my arm.
But if I want to keep seeing her, this is the price I have to pay. For now.
