Page 68 of Bonus Game
The puck slid along the curve of the boards behind the goalie and was quickly snatched up by Banner, who was waiting on the other side. Solis slammed Kingston into the boards, using the momentum from the push to propel himself across the ice to chase Banner.
The veteran’s defence was already rallying in front of their net, blocking Banner’s opportunity to shoot the puck, but Evans was already waiting in a good position. One perfect flick from Banner sent the puck to Evans, who caught it with minimalstumbling and slapped it at the net before the veterans could descend on him.
Their starter goalie, Jonas Cobb, was a badass—and he easily smacked the shot away using the handle of his stick. It was a little too high and probably wouldn’t have gone in the net, but Cobb was a showoff.
Evans was visibly frustrated as both teams took a split second to switch their players out for the end of their shifts, and Kingston followed him to the bench.
“That was a good shot,” said Kingston, stopping to take a swig from his water bottle. “You’ll get the next one in.”
Evans didn’t say anything. He was too busy staring darkly at the rink, like he was deciding between scoring a goal or murdering someone.
Skin prickling with excitement, Kingston studied him, needing to understand why the thought of Evans losing control did so much for him. He wanted that unhinged gaze on him under different circumstances, when there were fewer people around and?—
“Is there something on my face?” Evans asked, grabbing a towel to wipe his sweaty but clean face. “You’re staring at me.”
Yeah, because he was having a bisexual crisis for no goddamn reason.
The teams were evenly matched, and as the score climbed toward the five-goal mark needed for victory, the play grew increasingly brutal; rookies and veterans alike battled tooth and nail for every inch of ice.
Kingston finally got a taste of what his role as an enforcer would be like because every time Banner and Carr were playing, they got swarmed by the veterans, and he had to step in.
Pushing, shoving, and deflecting guys bigger than him had always been an enjoyable part of the game for him. Kingston thrived on making hard checks that made others think twiceabout fucking with his teammates. He thrived on the fear in their eyes when they saw him charging in their direction, too.
It was fun. This game was fun, even if they were exhausted, angry, and struggling to get pucks into the net. Carr was a tough bastard with a wicked slapshot, and Banner had the same puck-handling skills and speed as Jett Fraser.
The two of them were the Citadel’s star players—his star players to protect. It was his literal fucking job, but he wasstillstruggling to keep his eyes off Evans. Evans wasn’t a star player, and he was a fourth-line prospect at best. It wasn’t Kingston’s problem to look out for him since the idiot was capable of handling himself, but that’s why his blood boiled with rage when he saw Evans get caught up in the corner boards with two veterans racing toward him.
The exact thing that Kingston told him toavoid.
“Motherfucker!”
Kingston pushed into a sprint, but he was on the opposite side of the ice with three opponents blocking his path. Everyone had their eyes on the puck as Evans caught it in the corner and turned to make a pass, but Kingston’s eyes were on Evans.
The hit Solis landed on Evans was hard enough to bounce the boards, but he was well-positioned, and he kept his head up, saving him from getting his teeth knocked out by a shoulder.
The power behind the check was brutal enough to knock Evans down, and he landed awkwardly, but he was already on his skates when Kingston flew in and threw his bodyweight into Solis.
It was a retaliation hit. Probably a boarding penalty because of how hard Kingston knocked the bigger guy into the glass at the wrong angle, but he was too furious to care.
The whistle blew, and Coach Sullivan ended the play. She was shouting at Kingston as she skated over, but Kingstonwasn’t paying attention. He was locked onto Solis, who was winded but already trying to stand.
“I knew the check would be fine!” Solis yelled, struggling back onto his feet. “This is a practice game, Sloan! Chill the fuck out!”
No fighting erupted since there was no need, and the energy around the gathered players was a mix of electrified and frustrated. Kingston had proved he could knock bigger guys around, but Solis was well-liked on their team, and Kingston was…getting there.
“You do that during a real game, and I’ll scratch you, Sloan.” Sullivan pushed into the circle of panting, sweating hockey players and fixed a glare on him. “We want you to rough opponents up, but not when your stick is too high, and the puck is nowhere near your target. If you rack up the penalty minutes making dirty hits when it’s not needed, you’re gone.”
Kingston lowered his gaze and said nothing. He didn’t trust his mouth right now, and his teeth were clenched so hard he doubted he could get the words out anyway.
“Evans, Sloan, you’re out for the last five minutes,” Coach ordered. “Gear down and get the hell out of here. Evans, have the medical team clear you before you leave the building.”
The whistle blew again, and the players dispersed for the next puck drop. Kingston glanced at Evans and caught a glimpse of his furious expression before he turned and skated toward the gate with a growl.
Scowling, Kingston followed him, letting out a growl of his own. If Evans was mad at him, then he could shove it. Kingston wouldn’t put up with being yelled at for doing his damn job.
They passed off their sticks, gloves and helmets, and they weren’t in the locker room before Evans started pulling his jersey off, muttering angrily to himself.
“Speak up, jackass,” Kingston snapped. “If you want to tell me off, then turn around and say it to my face.”
