Page 8 of From Ice to Grace
Sure, most of the women want more by game thirty, and that’s exactly what they won’t get from me. I always make sure to tell them that, which plays perfectly into my non-exclusivity clause. They get the jersey they want to wear so badly, I get everything else.
“You sure like to keep track of my dates and their attendance,” I say, watching her carefully. “It reminds me of that little jealousy theory I was working on.”
She scoffs, looking past me toward the bus. I follow her gaze to where her brother, EJ, is watching us with a narrowed gaze. Lucas taps him on the shoulder before he gets on, reminding me that this is all but simple. As much as I like to press her buttons, she’s my teammate’s sister. A teammate I consider a friend.
Even if Avah has her opinions of me, I shouldn’t be here entertaining it, or even encouraging it.
Whatever it may be.
“You know what, Murphy?” she asks, stepping closer, not intimidated by me in the least.
She’s close enough now that I notice her fair Swedish complexion tinged with a blush across her cheeks and her nose. She’s riled up, her emotions showing even if she doesn’t want it to.
“I used to think you have incredible skill and talent. But now, I see the real deal. You don’t have a lot to draw from, do you? You’re controlled by your anger, by your basic human drives. A fight, a woman, a drink.”
She laughs without humor, her words sinking beneath my skin, going deeper than the words of Marachino or any other hockey player who's ever chirped at me. It’s unnerving…unsettling even.
And I have no idea why.
She looks at me again, a small flicker of something on her face. Regret? Restraint?
“So keep your Barbie,” Avah says, opening her car door and sliding into the seat. “By the looks of things, this might be the last season you’ll have a jersey for fangirls to wear.”
She slams the door shut before I can say anything else.
Turning away from the car, I try to ignore the truth to her words. I’m not an idiot. I know I messed up and I’ll be having a chat with Coach in the next twenty-four hours. And even if I get kicked off the team, I’ll still have a jersey. Just not a Rangers jersey.
But still, her words hold truth and I can’t hide from it.
Getting on the bus, EJ’s already up and out of his seat, standing in the aisle like a brick wall.
“What gives Murphy?” he asks, glaring at me in a way I haven’t seen before. “What’s your issue with my sister?”
I frown, since his question is completely out of bounds. It’s no secret that he’s protective when it comes to his sister, but I’m not someone he should be worried about. Avah is nothing but a distraction on a good day, and on the worst maybe even a nuisance.
“No issues man. Just two friends talking.”
He doesn’t move, clearly not believing a single word coming out of my mouth and I can’t really fault him for it. I’ve been around his sister for a year now and never has anyone ever thought the two of us are friends. Our conversations consist of arguing, sparring, verbal decapitation…but that’s it.
I sigh. “Seriously, bro. I have Melissa for the season. No need to worry.”
His mouth tightens, his blue eyes growing ten times colder than before.
From behind him, Nikolai leans in with an amused chuckle.
“Not the best move there, Murphy. You just put his sister in the same category as the woman currently warming your bed.”
“That’s not?—”
I stop. Because now I’m the one thinking about it. Not because of logic or reason, but because Nikolai just tossed a grenade with his suggestion while EJ lit the fuse with his protective glare.
And it’s ridiculous.
Avah will never be the warm-body type.
“I know my sister,” EJ cuts me off, not taking his eyes off me. “And I know you.”
His words are like taking a puck to the ribs. I’ve known EJ for a few years, I’ve played with him, spent most of my time with him. I know he doesn’t approve of my personal life, but he’s never been in my face about it. Not until now, and not with this much disapproval.
