I have an idea where this is going.
I suddenly feel like I’ve been put inside an eighties movie, and that’s so not cool with me. I am not the bullied. Absolutely not. I don’t do things vice versa either.
But the air has changed.
McGregor slams me into the boards. “You like men, Carrington?”
He sneers at me, and I know he thinks I’m going to fumble my stick. I wrestle with him, and in the distance, Vinnie skates toward us, his face stern and avenging.
“Uh-huh.” My lips curl into my best smirk. “Want me to fuck you hard, McGregor?”
His face pales, and Vinnie’s jaw drops.
“Do you want me to feed you my big cock?”
McGregor’s jaw drops, and I whack the puck toward Luke who scores.
The lights flash, and the crowd cheers. I wink at McGregor and skate away.
“Um, what did you say to him?” Vinnie asks, befuddled.
“Everything he was going to say to me,” I say, before setting off after the puck again. The applause rings in my ears, filling my soul and smoothing away my worry.
I love this game. I grin at the crowd and bask in my assist, but I can’t shake the feeling that Vinnie is suspicious. Maybe I was supposed to act self-hating and cower.
Well, fuck that.
The puck glides toward me, and I sprint toward it. This time I’m going to score a goal. I shoot it hard into the goal, grinning at McGregor’s angry, disappointed face.
New York is so going to lose.
NOAH
We win the game. Coach put me on the ice, and everything was respectable. Tanaka smiles from the owner’s section when the game ends and we’ve won 2-0, and the home audience screams their enthusiasm.
Elation bubbles through me. Okay, this is happening. I am an NHL player on one of the top teams in the country, married to one of the top hockey players in the country.
Even if Finn doesn’t technicallyhave the most goals, he’s super awesome.
The team flashes wide exuberant smiles on one another as I enter the locker room.
“Finn, I want you out there for questions,” Coach orders.
“Yes, sir!” Finn nods, then rushes for the shower.
“Congratulations, everyone!” Coach says.
I move more slowly since I’ll be here a while. When I leave the shower and put on my suit, Finn is still talking with reporters. I slide onto a bench.
A few of the guys shoot me curious looks. They whisper to one another, then turn their heads to me.
Mostly I’ve been with Finn. He’s been my protector, even though I never asked him to take on that role.
Finally, Troy approaches me. “I thought we should talk for real.”
“Okay.”
“Finn’s a cool dude,” Troy says carefully.
