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Flopping on the bench, I shrugged. “They got their second wind, I guess.”
Molly tapped on the glass behind us. “Did you lose something, guys?”
Spinning to look at Molly, I saw Phoebe looking so damn gorgeous, I forgot to breathe. My jaw dropped and I forgot what was happening.
Molly cackled. “You lost your balls, men. Your dignity! Go out there and get your balls back! Ransom, watch your footwork. Peter, for the love of shit, get your posture under control. And Chris, stick hand tight but keep your wrist loose.” She paused and looked out at the play. “You don’t need me to tell you this. Just go out there and fucking do it!”
Phoebe bit her lip and tossed me a wink, then Molly pulled her back to their seats.
Oh, hell yeah. I was going out there and doing this for Phoebe. There might still be a chance there. She almost looked flirtatious.
When the next crew came in, I hopped the wall and flew to position. But right after the faceoff, I had someone’s fist smashed into my kidney. Ivan, a dumbass defenseman for the Riptide I ran into year after year, held a grudge from a game four years ago. Every time we played each other, he tore into me in some kind of sneak attack. Whirling around in a c-cut, I pulled power from my legs and sunk my fist into his ribs. With jabs and uppercuts, our buckets went flying and we were in a full-out brawl. The crowd went wild, but my focus was on his fists. When I got him down to the ice, the refs barged in and stopped it. We both ended up with a penalty, but I didn’t care. Fucker earned himself a few bruised ribs and that cut on his cheek.
Taking a seat in the penalty box, I watched the clock as the two minutes ticked down. It wasn’t that long in the grand scheme of things, but I wanted to be out there helping my team. In here, there was nothing I could do but watch. Fortunately, Ivan had the same fate. Both teams were down one player, so it was a four-on-four. But the Riptides had a good offense. They overwhelmed Milo and finally scored.
The fact that one of the teams scored released me from the box. I raced out and got back to it, letting one of the other defensemen take a break. Digging in with my heels, I kept my head on a swivel and used the pivots and tactics Molly taught me to increase my speed and get in front of the puck. After recovering it twice, the forwards passed it around until Calder slapped it in right over the goalie’s shoulder.
It was time for me to get off the ice, so after the celly to bump gloves with our teammates, I took a breather.
The rest of the night felt like a blur. My fight with Ivan seemed to incense the guys. They fought harder, went back to being the dominating force, and while we didn’t score again, we kept our two-point lead until the final buzzer.
The cheers, though, were lost on me. Raising my eyes to where Phoebe sat, I stared at her and nothing else existed. I didn’t hear the crowd. I saw the flicker of hope in Phoebe’s eyes and my stomach dropped. Holding her gaze, I let her see my desire. Her eyes flared and she gave a little nod. Racing to the locker room, I stripped, showered, and when I reached the hallway, I found her waiting for me.
Touching her arm, I ducked a little to catch her eyes. “You stayed.”
“Yeah,” she said biting her lower lip, “thought we’d ride home together.”
I nodded trying to ignore my body’s reaction to her. “Your hair looks amazing.”
Her face lit up. “You noticed?”
I licked my lips. “Hell, yeah. It looks damn good.”
A secret smile tugged at her lips. “Really?”
I let my fingers reach out and touch her soft locks. “Yeah, really.”
“Pierce!” a voice shouted to me. “Pierce. Five minutes?”
I spun around blocking Phoebe and shook my head. “Not tonight, Pete. I’m busy.”
Pete Herrera was a sports reporter. Nice enough guy, but I hated reporters. Leaning to the side, he tried to look around me. “Who’s this?”
Grabbing Phoebe around the waist, I raced us to the door shouting over my shoulder. “No comment!”
As I led Phoebe to my truck, she twisted and forced me to stop. “Who was that? Did you need to stay?”
I shook my head grunting.
Her eyes narrowed. “It was for your work, right?”
I shrugged. “Not mandatory. Fucking reporters are always in our faces.”
The light that had been in her eyes just a moment ago dimmed. “Oh. Are you joining the guys for drinks? I heard Kiley say something about Gilly’s.”
I wanted to take her home, but I didn’t want to discourage her from spending time with friends. “Do you want to?”
She shrugged. “I’m all dolled up. Some of the girls will be there.”
