Walking into the Otters’ arena was thrilling; it had been far too long since I had been to a game. The smell of the ice, the cool air, the bustling of fans all decked out in Otters apparel—it was all freaking amazing.

I started to lead the way, then realized I didn’t exactly know where I was going. “Wait, where are our seats?” I glanced around, soaking in the life force of the fans’ excitement.

Adam looked down, checking the row and seat numbers on the tickets gripped in his hand. “We’re all the way down in front next to the penalty box.”

Freaking perfect.

The seats were incredible, but their location meant there was no way Brayden was not going to see me. Knowing my brother, he was going to spend at least a little bit of time in trouble.

We took our seats, chomping on popcorn. “You know; this is my first hockey game.” Adam blushed a little as he confessed his naiveté when it came to my favorite sport of all time.

“Don’t worry, babe. I can explain the rules to you.”

I leapt to my feet as the opposing team started to skate out onto the ice, booing and screaming with the rest of the Otters’ fandom. Grabbing Adam’s hand, I pulled him up next to me. “You have to yell really loud when they announce Brayden Cox, okay? He’s number sixty-eight.”

He gave me a sideways glance. “Isn’t Cox your last name?”

My face got hot as I bit my lower lip. “Yes. My brother is one of the players.”

“No shit. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrugged. “I wanted you to like me for me, not for who my brother is or who my dad was.”

Adam took a sip from his mixed drink, which I could barely smell without almost losing my lunch—Jäger mixed with anything was just so disgusting to me. I couldn’t understand how anyone could enjoy a licorice-flavored alcohol. “I get it. I do like you and I don’t really know anything about hockey, so it is kind of nice to have an expert here with me.”

“Let’s just hope for a barn burner!” I yelled, clapping when I saw my brother’s number coming onto the ice. “Yay! Brayden!” I screamed with my hands cupped around my mouth, jumping up and down.

Adam leaned closer to my ear. “What’s a barn burner?”

“Oh, honey, you have a lot to learn.”

I smacked Crosby on the pads as I started to get fired up for the opening game. I could see the flames kindling in my teammates’ eyes as we chanted in the locker room. I could feel that the season was going to ours; it had to be. We were coming off a losing streak from the last few seasons and it was high time we started kicking ass and taking names.

My father walked in with his perfectly pressed suit and ridiculous otter-print tie that he thought was the fucking tits. “Are you guys ready?” he bellowed.

Everyone howled back with cheerful grunts and yells.

“What are you going to do with the puck?” His face resembled an overly ripened tomato as he waved his clipboard in the air.

We all responded, “Put it in the net!”

“What’s that?” I screamed back at my guys.

“Put it in the fucking net!” they all hollered back to me.

“Let’s give them hell, boys!” I shouted, raising my stick in the air.

With that we were all rushing out of the locker room and onto the ice. I followed our goalie out. “Keep that glove up, Crosby, and we just might win this.”

He chuckled at me through his fishbowl. “You got it, Cap. Raise hell!”

Our opponents were just as revved up as we were. It was definitely going to be a game to go down in the record books—I could feel it deep in my bones.

* * *

My blood pumped hard through my veins as Cox passed to me and I heard the puck hit the bottom of the crossbar before shooting right down into the net.

The siren blared as the announcer cheered. “And that’s a beautiful bar down from your captain Gavin Hayes and Brayden Cox with the assist.”

I skated by my teammates as they started jumping up from the bench, erupting into a full-blown celebration. Cox came up on my left. “Nice shooting, Hayes.”

It was the first time we were actually happy to be on the same ice. “Couldn’t have done it without you, man.”

Right then, an enforcer from the other team got up in Brayden’s face. “Oh look, we found ourselves a little pigeon bitch.” He cooed like a fucking moron.

“You can go fuck yourself, Belsky!” I yelled as I fist-bumped another one of my players.

The enforcer shoved Hayes’ shoulder. “Letting Daddy protect you, little pigeon?”

Before I could stop him, Cox’s gloves were off and he had the douchebag’s jersey up over his head as he pummeled the poor shmuck’s face.

The referee was quick to respond and the fight was over before Belsky could even get a punch in on Cox. “Way to give them a power play. Next time let them chirp all they want and take out your aggression on the ice, not his face.”

I turned to see Belsky spitting blood and a few chiclets onto the ice. “Maybe you should be careful who you shit talk to.” I chuckled while skating over to the bench to take a much-needed break.

Fuming was putting it mildly—my blood was boiling. All I wanted to do was finish kicking that jerk’s ass. I knew Coach was going to give me tons of shit for knocking a guy’s teeth out within the first five minutes of the game, but Belsky had it coming. I was not some damn pigeon and I sure as shit was going to prove that.

Someone slamming their fist onto the glass of the penalty box broke me from my rage-filled haze. I turned to lock eyes with my little sister as she screamed at me.

“Brayden, what the ever-loving fuck was that? Don’t let them get under your skin.”

I watched as the seconds ticked by on my penalty time. “What in God’s name are you fucking doing here?”

As if things weren’t already bad enough, now I had to be worried that Myla was going to be pissed at me, too. I didn’t really know why it bothered me so much for her to see me act like that; it was no different than what our old man had done to fight his way to the top.

“Adam brought me. Don’t be mad.” She gave me her damn puppy-dog face that melted my heart.

“We’ll talk about this later.” My time ended and I burst out onto the ice to seek my revenge. I knew I couldn’t punch the guy again, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make his time in the rink a living hell in other ways.

After my minute on the ice, I was sitting on the bench next to Gavin. “Sorry, man.” I knew I needed to say something before my ass got completely chewed out.

He tapped his stick to mine. “Shit happens, dude. You seemed to have a pretty rough time in the box. Who was that chick?”

I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth. “Myla’s here with some dude I haven’t met yet. I fucking hate when she is at my games, especially when I lose my temper like that.”

Right when Cox said his sister was there, the flame that had been lit in my belly detonated into a full-fledged wildfire consuming every inch of my body.

“Coach! Put me in.” My dad nodded, whistled for a change, and I was back out on the ice.

Immediately, I was being slammed hard right in front of the woman I was trying to impress. There was a way her eyes awakened as I got checked into the boards that drew me in. Myla jumped to her feet, smacking her petite hands onto the glass, yelling at my attacker through red lipstick and bright white teeth, a glimmer of an excited smile dancing across her face, colliding with her rage. I knew in that instant that I needed to get to know her spirit, feel that fire, dive into that passion—and I didn't even know anything about her other than the fact that she was my teammate’s sister and her name was Myla. I checked out her date: same fucking dude that had been with her the night before, probably her boyfriend, but he was only a speed bump. In one second my heart was kick-started again, and I needed to win that game just for her.

I got the puck and charged the net. I was in a complete zone. Hearing the alarm sound for my second goal of the game was electrifying; there was not going to be any stopping me that night.

“Keep the foot on the gas, boys! The foot on the gas!” I yelled during a change.

“Aye, Cap!” Paddock called back to me as he sped off.

I counted down my sixty seconds, watching for my next turn. It was the longest minute of my freaking life.

Crosby gloved the puck with another awesome save for the evening. I was stoked at how on the ball all my teammates were. It was sad to admit, but Cox’s little display in the beginning really got everyone fired up. Sometimes you just have to kick someone’s ass to get the testosterone flowing in the rest of the guys.

I jumped over the wall and bee-lined it for a faceoff. I loved the shit talking; it was a great part of the game for me.

The ref held the puck in the air.

“Keep your head up, Hayes.”

Fischer had been traded the season before I started playing for the Otters and I knew he was still bitter about it. “You’re the last person I’m scared of, you ugly cunt waffle.”

“You fucking want to go?” Fischer was ready to throw down right there, but I had my eye on another prize.

The ref blew his whistle and I charged, throwing my shoulder right into his breadbasket, getting the puck over to Cox. Even as a young player, he was definitely our fastest puck handler, and I needed him to keep his head in the game. It was like he could read my mind as we drove the puck down deep into enemy territory.

“And that’s a hat trick for Hayes!” My first freaking hat trick ever and it was on opening day. I couldn’t even believe my ears as the crowd exploded into hysteria and threw their hats onto the ice.