Page 231 of Cross Check

“He’s a good dude.” Amelia lifts her chin in the direction of my teammates. “Time to get to work. Good luck out there.”

“Right.” I give her a salute. “Thanks, Coach Green.”

I find my spot on the line between Jaxson and Tommy as a starter. I take off my helmet for the national anthem and lean against my stick, humming under my breath.

“Hey,” Jaxson whispers. “You know Amelia Green?”

“Emmy Hartwell played for DC when she first came into the league. She and I are friends, and Coach Green is her coach. Things overlap, you know?” I murmur.

“Lucky. My buddy plays for the Sea Crabs, and he talks about how good she is at her job,” he says. “Makes me wish she could replace our shitty coach in Philly.”

“Damn. Do all the coaches in the league suck?”

“Pretty much. You all are lucky in Baltimore and DC. Not everyone cares about their players the way Saunders and Green do.” Jaxson sighs. “That toxic locker room culture is out there, and it’s fucking exhausting.”

Across the ice, I notice Brady Williams from the St. Louis Tigers watching me. His gaze slides from over to Amelia, and I frown when he whispers to the player next to him. My eyes narrow when they both laugh, and I don’t like it when Williams steals another glance at my girl.

I might not be able to tell the world that she’s mine, but if anyone tried to hurt her, I’d kick their ass and not give a damn about the consequences.

These round robin games are supposed to be less intense than our regular season matchups, but the Central division team is playing dirty as hell. They’re not afraid to go for an extra shove when the refs aren’t paying attention, and I swear one of those dickbags tripped Tommy on purpose.

“Shit like this pisses me off.” I chug my sports drink and dry my neck with a towel during a timeout. “It’s not that serious, and if they want the prize money that badly, I’ll write them a fucking check myself.”

“It’s all Brady Williams. I don’t understand how he gets away with this behavior all the damn time.” Tommy winces when our athletic trainer dabs at his cheek to patch up a scrape after taking a stick to the face. “Makes me think there’s something happening behind the scenes.”

“Guys in the NBA have been caught throwing games for money. Maybe he’s doing shit like that too,” I say.

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Jaxson mumbles. “He’s fucking shady.”

The timeout ends, and I head back to the ice. I take my spot near the face-off circle, rolling my eyes when Brady Williams skates up to me.

“Everett,” he says. “Great to see you.”

“Wish I could say the feeling was mutual.”

“Saw you talking to Amelia Green.” He crouches low and waits for the puck to drop. “She’s hot as hell, isn’t she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tighten my grip on my stick and grind my teeth. “I’m paying attention to the game, not how attractive someone might be.”

“Really?” Brady smirks. “You’re probably the only guy in the league not wondering what she looks like naked.”

“Not sure why you’re looking at coaches like that, Williams. She’d run circles around you on the ice.”

“Come on, Everett. You’ve seriously never had the fantasy I’ve had?”

“I haven’t had any fantasies,” I growl, waiting for the ref to get the game going. He’s talking to a linesperson, and my eye twitches. “Will you shut the fuck up?”

“Why do you think she’s working in the men’s league when she should be coaching girls? Because she’s a whore. She doesn’t care about hockey, only about getting our attention. I bet she’s fucked⁠—”

My gloves are off before he can take another breath.

I lunge at him, wrapping my arms around Brady’s middle and toppling us both to the ice. His helmet comes off and I squeeze my thighs against his sides, locking him in place.

Pulling my fist back, I deck him square in the face. Blood spurts from his nose, and I aim for his mouth next, hoping to knock a couple of teeth loose.

“You’re a piece of shit,” I seethe, landing another punch. “You belong lower than the depths of hell.” Another hit. “A fucking disgrace to our sport.” One right in his eye socket that has him howling in pain. “What was that, Williams? Are you asking me to stop? I don’t fucking think so.”

I rarely get in fights, and it shows.