Page 37 of Meet Your Match
“I’m afraid I can’t let you pass,” she’d said, tilting her head a bit. “Not until we fight.”
It was a tease, a reference to the game before, and I’d folded my arms over my chest and sized her up. “What do you want to fight about?”
“Dealer’s choice.”
“Hm…” I’d said, tapping my chin in thought. “I need to figure out a way to piss you off.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
I’d smirked at that, and then, I’d dropped my bag to the floor and dug my fingertips into her sides, tickling her mercilessly.
I smiled wider remembering the squealing peals of laughter that she’d let loose, how she had tears coming out of her eyes as she tried to break free from me. In her attempt, her body had been completely pressed into mine, and I’d felt the weight of her slight frame in my arms, had inhaled her scent — lemon and vanilla, like a refreshing dessert I was more than curious to taste.
She was breathless by the time I’d finally relented, and as soon as she had her breath back, she’d socked me right in the gut.
I’d doubled over with anoof, but had laughed all the same.
“You’re such a prick,” she’d yelled. “I couldn’t breathe!”
“Is it time to kiss and make up now?”
She’d sucked her teeth at that, turning on her heels that matched her blouse before strutting down the hall like a model.
And I’d spent the last few hours trying to stay focused on the game, and not on how it had felt to have my hands on her.
I blinked back to the present just in time to hop the boards and skate out onto the ice with my line. We played hard, not letting up even when the score told us we could. We wanted this team and the rest in our conference to hear our message loud and clear.
Tampa is the team to beat, and we won’t make it easy to do so.
Sweat dripped into my eyes as the last buzzer sounded, and the crowd cheered so loud the stadium shook with the sound of it. Then, a flurry of stuffed animal fishes of all kinds rained down on us.
We had to watch where we were skating to dodge the toys as we took our victory laps, but none of us minded. It was tradition, one that had been around for decades. The fish were a sacrifice to the Osprey, our mascot. When the tradition started, they had thrownactualfish. Of course, that had been a smelly, disgusting, and rather inhumane practice that quickly turned into what it was now. A rainbow of color filled the ice just like a hat trick did, and at the end of it all, every toy would be donated to local shelters and families in need.
We took our time on our victory lap, and not a single fan moved from their seats as we went back into the locker room. Minutes later, the three stars of the team were announced.
I was one of them.
I skated a lap with the lights flashing and the crowd chanting my name, and I searched for a kid to give my puck to. When I spotted a familiar face by the glass at center ice, I grinned.
The Machine.
I skated over to him, and he jumped up and down more excitedly when he realized I’d spotted him. He tugged on his mom’s jersey, and she only laughed and thanked me with a sweet smile and tilt of her head.
Instead of tossing the puck up over the glass like I usually did, I nodded toward security and motioned for them to find a way to get him on the ice. When they did, I pulled him up onto my shoulders, handing him the puck and letting him celebrate like the victory was his as we skated another lap with the other stars.
When the celebrations were done, I bent to let him down and rejoin his family, and I turned to find Maven watching me from the bench. I cocked a brow, silently asking what she thought.
She smiled, something light and soft about her for just a moment. But then, she scrunched her face up and waved her flat palm side to side, as if to say,Meh, it was alright.
I scrubbed a hand over my smile at that.
Back in the locker room, the celebrations continued, my teammates stripping their clothes off and chugging beer as the DJ played our win song loudly through the speakers.
“Great job out there,” Coach McCabe said when we were all gathered. “It was a rough first period, but you found your groove in the second, and if we keep playing like that, we’ll have the trophy in our hands by the end of the season.”
We roared our agreement.
“Have fun tonight, but be smart,” he warned. His expression was severe for only a moment before he grinned, and we all cheered and whistled as he shook his head and left us be.
