Page 20 of Ice Rebel

Every surface was covered with beer cans and red plastic Solo cups. Apparently, someone had raided a grocery store for junk food. There were open bags of chips and cookies everywhere. I stood where I was, surveying the scene and wondering why I hadn’t decided to stay in my parents’ house. Oh, yeah. Because I was a fully grown adult.

You couldn’t tell that by the condition of the house.

“There’s the man.” Darren was lounging on the couch, sandwiched between two women. Yeah, they were hot blondes, which was exactly what turned him on, but I already sensed the evening becoming messy. Somehow, I’d become the house janitor. “We were thinking we’d need to send a search party out for your sorry ass.” He took a long pull on his beer while staring at me.

All while the women were rubbing their hands down his chest.

“I had some thinking to do. I’m going to grab a beer.”

“Get me another one, will ya? What were you saying, sweet Ginger?” He leaned over, kissing her crimson-stained lips and for whatever reason, his actions made me jealous. That wasn’t like me.

“I was saying you don’t have any Christmas decorations. Not one,” the girl cooed in return.

We were roommates and while we enjoyed each other’s company most of the time, we weren’t some big happy family. The place was more like a frat house instead of a three-story dwelling in the middle of the suburbs graciously rented to us by a nice, older gentleman with way too much money and an adoration for all things hockey.

Still, it suited us perfectly with enough rooms to accommodate our needs, including when chicks dropped by and a big-ass man’s cave on the bottom floor complete with pool and foosball tables, a dartboard, and a long bar always filled with enough liquor for every impromptu party.

While Darren was actively trying to think of a plausible reason why none of us were in the holiday mood, I headed to the kitchen. I grabbed a few cups along the way for the trash. The main events of debauchery were likely occurring downstairs.

When I walked in, I noticed Hudson standing with both Zane and Finn, Hudson holding court with going over what to expect from the Reno team. I wasn’t interested in talking shop any longer, but listened in anyway. Maybe I was a little louder than need be, but there was just as much unnecessary junk on every inch of counter space as there’d been on the table.

Bottles clinked together as I tossed them into the trash, one or more obviously cracking under the force. Hudson gave me a frustrated look.

While I didn’t mind the occasional party, I was tired of being the hired help. Plus, the make-out sessions were getting entirely too old. We weren’t in college any longer. No one liked to talk about the ugly truth, but we were all at an age where if we weren’t picked up by an NHL team within the next year and a half, we should shift to our alternate careers.

For me that meant working in my family’s sawmill. Not a bad occupation by any means and one day, I’d be part owner of an extremely successful business, but it certainly wasn’t what I wanted.

Although there were times I wasn’t entirely certain what I wanted. Even hockey hadn’t been my first choice like it had been with my older brothers. Every day it felt as if I was moving farther away from grasping anything about my wants and needs.

“So you really think they are unbeatable?” Finn asked. He was much more demure than when on the ice, his wild, unpredictable behavior on skates giving him the name of Cujo. Plus, he’d been known to growl at our opponents any time he was given the opportunity.

“Just check their stats, man,” Hudson commented, tiling his head toward me in a nod.

Zane was ferociously shaking his head. “They have shit for defense. I’m telling you that if Jagger will keep his friggin’ act together, it’ll be a landslide.”

“If. That’s the big question.” Nope. I shouldn’t have joined the conversation. I could tell all three were ready to jump all over what I’d just said.

“Now, why would you say that?” Finn asked, his grin more shit-eating than usual.

“Call it a guess,” I answered. With my reaction to being asked to be co-captain being so cold, I could only imagine what his would be.

“He’s not so bad. Just wound up like you are.” Zane laughed, winking as he did. Always teasing me. The bastard.

I pulled the bottle to my lips. “Yeah, he’s wound up alright.”

Hudson’s frown was almost amusing. He knew me better than anyone, which meant he was about to grill me to find out why the surly attitude.

Finn and Zane exchanged glances, both waggling their eyebrows. Okay, so I got on my soapbox from time to time, but I was usually right.

“How about a game of pool?” Finn asked Zane, both already headed to the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah, man,” Zane commented. “Sounds like it’ll hit the spot right now.”

Hudson snorted. “Way to clear a room, buddy.”

“Only speaking the truth as I see it.”

He settled onto the corner of the counter, eyeing me suspiciously. “What did the coach say?”