Chapter 3: Chapter 3

I glance at the clock on the scoreboard. We’re midway through the third period and the game is tied. The energy in the arena feels like a living, breathing entity. It’s always like this when we play the Rattlers. East Town University is only forty-five minutes away, so it’s an easy trip for their fans to make. One side of the arena is a sea of orange and black, while the other is white and light blue. This is our team’s biggest conference rival, and both sets of fans are rabid for a win.

If we don’t pull one off tonight, there’ll be hell to pay.

And yet…

As much as we have riding on the line, I can’t stop thinking about the pretty blonde in the stands near the glass and the way our gazes caught as I checked River Thompson into the boards.

Fuck, but taking him out like that in the first period had been a pure pleasure.

The guy’s been out for payback ever since.

Bring it on, asshole.

Bring.

It.

On.

I’m sure he was pissed that I made him look like a pussy in front of his girl.

My heart stutters for a handful of seconds before pounding into overdrive.

Is that what she is? His girl?

The thought burrows beneath my skin like an incurable rash. I send another look her way, only to find her watching me.

Good.

I want her attention focused on me the entire time she’s wearing Thompson’s jersey.

Even though I don’t know who she is or what her name is, I want to tear the damn thing from her body.

My hands clench in my gloves in order to stop myself from crawling over the plexiglass and doing exactly that.

I glance at her again.

She’s like a ray of sunshine with the way her golden hair tumbles around her shoulders. I’m having a difficult time concentrating on the reason we’re here.

The game.

I swear under my breath as River manages to get around me and score a goal.

Motherfucker.

The girl wearing his jersey leaps to her feet and claps. Happiness radiates from her in intoxicating waves. It infuriates me that she’s cheering for the one guy I can’t fucking stand.

When her gaze flicks to mine again, her eyes widen.

A shoulder bumps mine, and I reluctantly break eye contact only to find Ryder McAdams frowning at me.

“You okay, man? It’s not like you to let Thompson fake you out like that.”

Fuck.

He’s right.

I’m distracted when I should be laser focused on getting my job done, and that’s never happened before.

Hockey has been my number one priority since I was old enough to lace up my own Bauers. I’m so damn close to making all my dreams come true. After this season wraps up, I just have to make it through senior year and then I’ll be free to sign my contract with Boston. Hell, if I could convince my parents to let me do it early, I’d quit school in a heartbeat and head straight to the NHL.

Although, I won’t hold my breath for that.

Every time I mention the possibility, they shoot it down, refusing to discuss the situation. I’m not sure why it’s so damn important I earn a degree. After I’m done playing hockey, I’ll end up working for my father’s sports agency.

I blink back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

It’s carefully that he searches my eyes.

Apparently satisfied with what he finds, he claps me on the shoulder. “Good. Let’s shut these guys down. If we don’t, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

With a nod, we take our positions at the blue line as Hayes gets ready for the faceoff. As soon as the puck gets dropped, Hayes knocks it to Colby McNichols, who races up the ice before passing it to Ford Hamilton. It goes back and forth as defensemen swarm. At every turn, the Rattlers attempt to regain possession before Ford scores through the five hole. In true Ford fashion, he grins at the stands, and I know he’s looking straight at his girlfriend.

The game is now tied with less than two minutes on the clock.

The energy in the arena turns frenetic. Under normal circumstances, I’m able to block out the screaming fans and focus solely on the job that needs to get done.

That’s not the case this evening.

And it has everything to do with the hot little blonde.

It’s impossible to shake the heat of her gaze as I skate across the ice.

This time, when the puck is dropped, Hayes loses the faceoff. The Rattler’s right wing scoops it up and takes off. From the corner of my eye, I keep an eye on River. I know his teammate will pass to him, and I’ll be damned if I allow him to score for a second time.

I skate closer, making sure to keep him in my periphery. I’m not giving him one damn inch. The wing with the puck glances at their center, as if he’ll pass to him. Just as I back off, he flicks his wrist in the other direction.

To River.

I swear under my breath, realizing that he managed to get away from me while I was focused on the other player.

My blades dig into the ice as I take off, attempting to catch him, but it’s too damn late. I’m not even close enough for a back check.

He swoops in front of the net before Ryder can get there and scores another goal.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

The horn blasts throughout the arena before echoing in my ears. River grins around his mouthguard as he points to the girl in the stands.

When his gaze settles on mine, he smirks. “Better luck next time, McKinnon. Looks like Sabrina wasn’t the only thing I stole from you.”

My vision goes red as I slam him against the boards for a second time.

River gets knocked off his skates and hits the ice with a thud. Even though the sound is satisfying as hell, it does nothing to assuage my fury. He scrambles to his feet before taking a swing.

Now I’m the one who’s smiling.

Until his gloved fist connects with my helmet and sends my head careening to the left. My teeth snap, sinking into the mouthguard as I lunge.

A whistle gets blown as players from both teams pry us apart.

“You’re a fucking asshole!” River growls.

I do the only thing I can and grin.

One of the refs stabs a finger in my direction. “In the box you go, McKinnon.” Then he looks at River. “You too.”

“What?” His incredulous voice escalates. “He started it!”

“Doesn’t matter,” the other ref says before skating away.

The Rattlers coach has a few choice words with the refs, arms flailing, but it doesn’t change the outcome.

I glance at the blonde on my way to the penalty box.

Her wide eyes stay pinned to me the entire way.

It’s exactly where I want them.