Page 10 of Power Move
“Felt good to get one past that goalie. He shut us out the first game of the season.” I down a mouthful of water from the bottle in front of me before passing it to Morgan.
Play resumes. Rhys hops over the boards on the line change, and all of my focus goes to him.
At six foot four, with a strong skating stride, Rhys justlookslike a top tier defenseman. Which he is. It’s odd seeing him in our yellow jersey instead of the Metros purple. He’s paired with Yanni. The kid’s been Rhys’s shadow since he joined us earlier in the week. They sat together during the flight here, talking hockey the entire way.
My teammates slide down the bench as guys come on and off. Rhys returns, and our backup goalie, Pavel, opens the bench door for him so he doesn’t have to climb over the boards.
I watch him settle his big body beside me.
Further down the bench, Phil calls out encouragement to our third liners.
The goal horn sounds. The crowd roars. I whip around to face the ice. The red goal light behind Soren is going off, and the Henderson players crash into each other in celebration. Fans join in with a torrential downpour of teddy bears as well as unicorns, cats, dogs, and countless other plushies, all to be collected and donated to charities.
Rhys smiles, shaking his head at the stuffed animals pelting the ice. “This is wild.”
“Teddy bear tosses are some of my favorite games. We held ours in December.”
He lets out a low whistle. Toys cover the ice, and they continue to fall in wave after wave. “There are so many, and they just keep coming.”
“Every team tries to outdo each other by getting the most animals.” Something smacks into the top of my helmet. I jerk forward, twisting to peer behind me. “What…”
Rhys lays a gloved hand on my shoulder. He picks up a hot pink T-Rex and glares into the crowd. “I’m trying to figure out who threw this.”
“Don’t worry about it. They probably didn’t mean to hit me. Getting the animals over the glass is tough, depending on where people are sitting.” This is nowhere near the same as a fan dumping beer or food on a player.
A line forms between his brows as he studies my face. Concern and protectiveness radiate from him. “Even so. Are you okay?”
“Better than I’d be if I encountered an actual T-Rex.” I put the furry pink plushie on Rhys’s shoulder. “Rawr.”
His rich chuckle rings out. After lobbing the toy onto the ice, he sits back. “Maybe I should come by and check on you after the game, just to make sure.”
Playful Rhys is as hot as protective Rhys. I wet my lips and bump his shoulder. “Maybe you should.”
Humming along to the song playing from my phone, I tug on my shirt. My mellow playlist for unwinding after games isn’t quite the right mood for tonight, but I don’t have a playlist for sexy defensemen coming to visit me.
Morgan wanders around our hotel room, gathering his phone and keys, an extra bounce in his step from scoring the goal in the third period that gave us the win tonight. “I’ll text you before I come back.”
I stop fussing with my mop of hair. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Rhys is coming over. So I think I do.”
Half the team knows he and I are hanging out tonight. Nerves and excitement tangle through me with every breath. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”
“Still.” He snags his hoodie from the pile of clothes strewn across his bed. His text notifications keep chiming from teammates gathering to play video games in Soren’s room. “You good? You’re not spiraling about him coming over?”
Blowing out a breath, I catch my reflection in the mirror. My black tee and athletic pants fit me well, but maybe they’re too casual. “Not spiraling. A little nervous. And excited.”
He clamps his hand on my shoulder. “You look good. Have fun.”
“Thanks. I hope your avatar, or whatever the thing in the game is called, wins.”
“As long as I beat Soren, I’m happy. See you later.” He slips past me and opens the door. “Oh, hey, Rhys. Come in. I was just leaving.”
Based on the Tyrannosaurus stomping in my chest,a little nervousmay have been an understatement. I hurry forward as Morgan heads out.
Rhys steps into the room, closing the door behind him. The flex of his muscles pulls the fabric of his gray T-shirt and navy joggers. His subtle spice scent tempts me closer. “Hi.”
Being the focus of his attention sends shivery sparks through me. “Hey.”
