Page 71 of Pucking Them
“You’ve got time,” D’Angelo calls, steadying me.
I take a single moment to hold onto the control. D’Angelo’s trust in me shines in his eyes.
Suddenly, a defenseman closes the gap. With a subtle shoulder fake, I shift the defenseman’s weight and pull the puck through his skates.
I smirk, as I accelerate onto open ice just in front of the net.
I don’t hesitate.
Confidently, I pretend that I am about to shoot.
Wilder is not the only one who can play bloody mind games.
The goalie reacts, dropping and spreading to block the shot. At the last moment, however, I trick him by pulling the puck sideways instead of shooting.
The goalie scrambles to adjust his weight, which opens his legs.
Instantly, I snap the puck along the ice and right between his legs.
It happens lightning fast, before the goalie can react.
The puck hits the back of the net.
I’ve scored!
The commentator and home crowd go wild.
I raise my stick in victory. Then I twirl around to my teammates, and they also raise their sticks.
Grayson whoops.
I smile at the tantrum Wilder is throwing. He hurls his stick and helmet to the ice. His face is red with humiliation and rage, as he yells at his dejected team for allowing me to score.
Wilder is a terrible captain.
D’Angelo has never treated any of his team like that, either in public or private, even when we fuck up.
This is why we’re like family. It’s why the rest of the team are loyal to D’Angelo and would bloody die for the bloke.
I skate closer to the side of the rink, where Eden and Robyn are standing holding hands.
Eden is dressed in one of his favorite gray suits, but Robyn has slipped one of D’Angelo’s number22hockey jerseys on over her dress.
She knows how to make a point.
She is smart at PR, as well as kind. She knew wearing that jersey would draw the press attention onto her, rather than D’Angelo or me, if we screwed up again.
Of course, it also made D’Angelo feral. His eyes glinted possessively when he saw her. I give her three seconds at most before he’s ripping it off her and then chasing her down through the mansion when we return home.
It makes my chest warm every time that Robyn and Eden no longer must hide how close they are standing.
Fuck it.
If they can be open like this, then so can I.
I laugh, swirling the stick in the air in an exaggerated pattern of a heart, before pointing at Robyn.
That goal was for her.
