Page 18 of Pucking Matt
I glance at Harvey and say, “This thing with the Grind Stone girl is a bad idea."
Harvey's head snaps up. “What's your problem with her? I've never known you to have enemies, other than you know.” He jerks his head towards Grey, who's adjusting his pads across the room.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “It's not that, man. She has a problem with me. I just…maybe inviting her tonight was a bad idea. You don't need the drama.”
Harvey nods slowly. “You don’t need the drama either. Maybe try being nice to the girl.”
I shake my head because he has no idea. If Miss lil Mike Tyson could’ve pretended she didn’t recognize me that one night, I wouldn’t have bothered.
I say, “I'll steer clear of her at the party. We've got more important things to focus on tonight anyway.”
“Damn straight,” Crew grins. “Let's go show these losers how hockey's really played.”
As we file out onto the ice, the roar of the crowd hits me like a physical force. This is what I live for. The game. The rush. The chance to prove I'm the best damn player on this team.
The puck drops, and everything else fades away. It's just me, the ice, my team, and our goal. I weave through defenders, my stick an extension of my arm. The other team might as well be standing still.
I spot an opening and send the puck flying towards Grey. Time seems to slow as it soars across the ice. Grey catches it perfectly, and with a flick, it's in the net. The crowd erupts.
Harvey slaps my back as we skate back to position. “Nice assist, Pearson,” he shouts over the noise.
I nod, already focused on the next play.
By the second period, I've scored twice, both times with assists from Grey. It feels good, to be in sync on the ice again with him. Winning is my drug of choice, and right now, I'm flying high.
The final buzzer sounds, and we've demolished the other team. The locker room is electric, everyone riding the high of victory. As I'm showering off the sweat and grime, I can't help but grin. This is what it's all about.
Later, at the Kappa Pi house, the party is in full swing. Music pounds through the speakers, the bass thrumming in my chest. I'm three beers in and feeling on top of the world.
“Pearson!” Crew shouts, pushing through the crowd to hand me another drink. “Hell of a play, man! Finally back on track.”
I accept the cup with a smile. “Hard work pays off.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “And so humble, too.”
More of the guys join us, and soon we're reliving every moment of the game. I scan the room as I listen, nodding and laughing at all the right moments. My eyes land on Maddie and Grey, cuddled up in a corner. For the first time, the sight doesn't bother me. They look happy. Good for them. I don’t like Grey, but if Maddie is happy, then I support it.
As the night wears on, more people gravitate towards our group. That's how it always is – everyone wants a piece of this team. The team is a good time. I play the part, laugh at jokes, swap stories, and make sure everyone feels included. It's second nature by now.
I catch Michelle's eye across the room. She's dancing, if you can call it that, and staring at me like I'm the last slice of pizza at 3 AM. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Time to find some new territory to explore.
I nudge Crew. “Wingman duty. Help me scope out who we can hit up.”
He grins, immediately on board. “Roger that, Captain. What's your type tonight? Blonde? Brunette? Breathing?”
I'm about to answer when I spot a familiar face in the crowd.
Amber.
In a tight black dress with loose hair falling around her face. She looks…different.
Well, isn't this just fan-fucking-tastic.
“Houston, we have a problem,” I mutter to Crew.
He follows my gaze. “Who’s that?”
“Grind Stone girl,” I say, reluctantly.
