Chapter Twenty-Four
Ryder
On second thought, having Lindsay and my dad at the same game seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.
Not that I planned on their paths crossing—and she hadn’t even fully committed, giving me a shaky maybe. But with my luck, if she showed, Dad would somehow know there was a girl out there distracting me the tiniest bit from hockey, and it’d be a disaster.
Thinking about it only added more pressure to the stress of the upcoming game. Our record meant we had a bye for the first round, but now quarterfinals were here, and there was a lot riding on the next sixty minutes of play time. This is it. The game that’ll determine if our season ends early or if we get to keep on playing and fighting for our chance to defend our title.
The game that’ll show Coach that I can stand the pressure of a big game, or make him think twice about his decision to start me.
A wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. I rushed into the bathroom locker room, praying for it to pass. I’d never gotten this nervous before a game.
Sweat formed across my forehead and I was too cold and too hot. Once I was sure my lunch wasn’t going to make a reappearance, I went back out to where the rest of the guys were preparing for the game. Judging from the other pale faces, I wasn’t the only one experiencing higher-than-usual nerves.
“Bro, you look like you’re going to ralph,” Dane said.
“I’m fine,” I said, wiping my forearm across my forehead.
He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Megan just texted. Lindsay’s with them.” Texting right before games was frowned upon—to put it lightly—but Dane didn’t seem to care about rules very much, and he seemed just as chipper as usual.
She came. She actually came. The pressure weighing me down and turning my stomach into a tangled mess of nerves lifted, even though some of it had been worrying about her. Just having her there would help center me. It meant she cared enough to show, and happiness over that pushed everything else to the background.
For once, I was glad that Dane didn’t care about the rules.
Coach walked in and called our attention to the front of the room, going over strategies and plays. I exhaled, mentally preparing for one of the biggest games of my college career, telling myself this was only the beginning.
…
“That was a close one,” I said, but then I let the grin spread across my face.
Hudson and Dane slammed into me, our helmets rattling as they knocked into each other, and we patted heads and backs.
The air of victory hung in the air, and we basked in it for a few minutes, reliving a couple of our best plays before hitting the showers. I dressed as fast as I could, my thoughts on Lindsay.
Unfortunately, when I exited the locker room, the first person I saw was Dad, front and center, arms crossed. You’d think he’d look happy considering we just won a big game, but the same stern look he always wore hardened his already sharp features.
As the rest of the guys stepped out of the locker room behind me, several girls surged our way shouting their congrats, patting backs, and giving out hugs—and at least one of them was into smacking butts. I pushed past them, muttering “thanks” over and over. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Lindsay standing away from the crowd.
She smiled at me, and my heart soared.
Then a hand came down on my shoulder and I turned to look at my dad.
“A few of those blocks were pretty sloppy, son. You need to be quicker to the corners, too—keep those feet moving.”
I gritted my teeth. “It was a good game. Thanks for noticing.”
The lines in his forehead deepened as he frowned at me. “Are you saying you played your best?”
“No, sir. Just enjoying the fact that we won.”
“Well, if you want to win the next game, much less the championship, you’re going to need to make your blocks count. Give the offense more time to score.”
Hudson, Dane, and Beck didn’t seem to have much problems scoring. They’d put six points on the board. We’d had to fight hard during every single play, but we’d pulled it off, and I just wanted to enjoy the high for a few minutes. To take some time to kiss my girl and properly celebrate our victory before I analyzed everything I could improve on.
“Plus, you let that show-off from the other team score in the last minute,” Dad added.
Let seemed extreme. Yes, he’d slipped past me when his defensive man set a pick and slammed into me, but my teammate had been right there to guard him. The guy had still managed to score, giving them a total of four points. A minute later the clock ran down and we won by two.
The urge to look at Lindsay again was strong, but I knew if I did, Dad would notice. Then that paths-crossing thing I’d been stressing about would happen, and I worried he’d say something mean to Lindsay. No, I knew he would. He’d probably call her a distraction straight to her face, and I wouldn’t blame her if she went back to fleeing in the other direction.
“I thought we could go to dinner,” Dad said.
Refusing would lead to an argument I didn’t want to have. “Sure. I just need a minute. Name a place and I’ll meet you there.”
He hesitated, and I suspected he was about to tell me we should ride together, or that he’d wait right where he was while I wrapped things up here. But by some miracle, he told me to meet him at the steak and seafood place we usually ate at whenever he was in town.
As soon as I was sure he was out of sight, I turned toward where I’d seen Lindsay last.
Just in time to see her retreating figure.
I sprinted through the crowd, doing my best not to bump into people, and failing a couple of times. Finally, I caught up to her. “Lindsay. Wait up.”
She spun around, and I stepped forward and kissed her, the way I’d dreamed about doing the second I walked out of the locker room.
It was like kissing a statue.
“Thanks for coming,” I said. “Sorry it took me so long to get to you.”
She crossed her arms. “I feel like a puck bunny again, standing here waiting for you to just please look my way.”
I grabbed her hand and tugged it free. “Waiting for me hardly makes you a puck bunny, and you know I don’t care about that.”
“I care. I won’t go back. It was hard enough to come to the game, and…” Her voice faltered, and she shook her head.
“Well, I appreciate you crossing into my world for one night to watch me play.” I swiped her hair off her face and rested my hand on the side of her neck. “What did you think of the game, anyway?”
For a couple of seconds I thought she’d hold on to the frustration she was clearly feeling, but then she cracked, a smile touching her lips. “It was amazing. You’re amazing. The way you slam into those guys, and that turnover you forced—”
I pressed my lips to hers, unable to go another second without kissing her. She had no idea how badly I needed to hear that—I didn’t even realize it until she’d said it. It was so damn nice to have someone think I played a good game. Especially this someone, with her big brown eyes and alluring curves and sassy mouth.
I lowered my forehead to hers and memorized her scent and the way she felt in my arms so I could hold on to the memory through the crappy night I was about to have with my dad. “I wish I could take you to the Quad to dance with you and properly celebrate, but I have to go meet my dad for dinner.”
She reached up and circled her hands around my forearms, like she needed to center herself in me as badly as I did in her. “It’s fine. The Quad’s not really my scene anyway.”
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow for paintball, though, okay?”
I worried she’d tell me she’d changed her mind, but then she nodded. She ran her arms up to my shoulders and slipped them behind my neck, bringing her body flush with mine. Then she kissed me, sucking my lower lip into her mouth and making me groan. “Just so you know,” she whispered against my lips, “I plan on taking you down.”
“Just so you know, if you’re doing the taking, I’m down.”
She rolled her eyes, but she laughed.
One more kiss and I reluctantly let her go. A crazy part of me almost suggested she come along—screw what my dad would think.
I reminded myself that having her meet Mom hadn’t exactly gone well, and she was the nicer of the two.
No, I’d have to suffer through one night without Lindsay, and since I didn’t have that many left—especially with the blur of one tournament that would lead to the next looming ahead—that tasted especially bitter.
But tomorrow after that paintball game, I was going to do whatever it took to get her all to myself. Then I’d make sure to make every second of that time count.