Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Jami Davenport

  Patrick grabbed my arm and spun me around. At first his expression was almost angry, then he grinned.

  “Great shot, bro.”

  “Thanks,” I shouted over the din.

  We headed for the locker room, but not before I caught Naomi’s smiling face near the entrance to the tunnel.

  “Good game,” she said and winked.

  I winked back, hope filling me with joy. I had a shot at Naomi, and that felt better than scoring the winning goal.

  We were staying in the hotel tonight and would make the three-hour drive tomorrow morning to our next game. I was always starved after a game and looked forward to the huge food buffet the hotel set up for the team after our away games.

  I showered and dressed, feeling cocky, as if I had the world at my fingertips. I walked out into the hallway to wait for the bus with the rest of the team, scanning the crowd for Naomi.

  Her dad, Gene Smith, held court several feet away, surrounded by many of our players, including my brother. In fact, Patrick stood next to Smith as if he were the heir apparent to the throne. Judging by the attention Mr. Smith was showering on him, he probably was.

  Coach Garf and Coach Keller were the last to arrive as we milled around.

  “Guys!” Keller clapped his hands together to get our attention. “Mr. Smith has generously offered to buy everyone dinner tonight. We’ll be walking down the block to Milano’s Pizza, where we’ll have the run of the entire restaurant.”

  The crowd cheered, and I went along, even though I’d prefer the buffet with more choices.

  “That means no beer,” Tate said in my ear.

  “Yeah,” I said, distracted by my brother and Naomi. They were deep in conversation, and he was making her laugh. The hopefulness drained out of me. Tate’s eyes flicked to them and back to me.

  “Your brother is making a move on her.”

  “He makes a move on anyone who’s female and still breathing.” My words came out with more bitterness than I’d intended.

  Tate’s brow shot upward. “Did I hit a sore spot?”

  “No, not at all.” I snuck another glance in Naomi’s direction. She leaned into my brother and gazed up at him with those big gray eyes. Jealousy wrapped itself around my heart and squeezed hard.

  “You’re wearing your emotions on your face. You might want to tone it down if you don’t want the entire team to know your secret.”

  I snapped my head back to Tate. “It’s that obvious?”

  “Only if you’re looking. The good thing is I’m the only one who was.”

  “I’m so fucked,” I muttered.

  “Ask her out before your brother does.”

  “She doesn’t want to date me. She wants Patrick. Look at her.” Misery washed over me. After last night, I’d thought we had a chance, but now… She’d been toying with me until she got what she really wanted.

  “What I see is someone who’s playing the game for her dad’s benefit, but she keeps stealing glances in your direction.”

  “She does?” I forced my gaze to stay on Tate. I wouldn’t be caught ogling her again. Horror of all horrors to have my brother catch me. Hope soared inside me, and I tamped it down with a fresh dose of skepticism.

  Tate didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at a spot below my chin.

  “Is something wrong?” I wondered if I had food on my shirt or something.

  “Garfunkle got to you, didn’t he?”

  “Huh?” The shift in conversation caught me off guard. I had no idea what he was talking about.

  Tate pointed at the crystal hanging around my neck and then pointed to one of his own.

  “Oh, that. Yeah, he did.”

  Tate chuckled.

  Our group shifted and moved as one toward the double doors leading out of the arena. I hung back. Lex fell into step beside me.

  “Great shot at the end of the game. I’ve always admired your slapshot.”

  “Thanks,” I said. Most of my good feelings about the game had faded after watching Patrick hustle Naomi. I hung back, reluctant to subject myself to more torture.

  My phone rang. It was Dad. Normally, I ignored his calls, but tonight I embraced any excuse to prolong the agony of watching Naomi and Patrick flirt with each other. I wanted to hear Dad’s praise so badly I answered.

  “I have to get this. I’ll meet you at the pizza place.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll save you a seat.”

  I waited until Lex was out of earshot and pressed the answer button. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Paxton, what the fuck was that play at the end of the game?”

  Huh?

  I blinked a few times and squinted at my phone.

  “I scored the winning goal.” I was confused, thinking he’d missed the end of the game.

  “Your brother had a clear shot. Why the fuck didn’t you pass to him?”

  His words wouldn’t have hurt more if he’d physically slapped me.

  Patrick. It was always about Patrick. To hell with me.

  I was speechless. He’d always treated me as an afterthought, but he’d never stooped this low. I guess because I’d never stolen the limelight from Patrick.

  I took a deep breath, attempting to control my anger after years of neglect and verbal abuse at the hands of this man. I failed.

  “Fuck you, Dad,” I said and ended the call.

  11

  Cold Shoulder

  Naomi

  Paxton and I barely saw each other all day. Something had to be said about last night, but I was still figuring out what that something was.

  After Coach announced my dad was buying pizza for the team, ravenous hockey players eagerly headed for the door. I noticed Kaitlyn hanging back.

  “Aren’t you going?”

  “No, I’ll meet up with Lex later. All this shit reminds me too much of my father. This isn’t about the team, it’s about them craving the limelight.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.”

  “Enjoy your dinner. I’m outta here.” Kaitlyn ducked out the side door. I wished I could join her. I glanced around for Paxton. He stood off to one corner with his back to me. I walked toward him but stopped when I heard his words. Something was very wrong. He was defending his play to someone, but he’d played fantastic. Why would he have to defend that unless he was talking to his asshole of a father?

  I didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping and backed away, just as my dad took my arm, not noticing my distress. He steered me toward the sidewalk with Patrick flanking him on his other side. I glanced over my shoulder, but Paxton was gone.

  He’d played one of his better games tonight, and I was proud of him. I wanted to tell him and talk about last night, but reluctantly I went with my father.

  We walked the short block to the restaurant. I allowed myself to be ushered to a table with my dad and Patrick. The remaining chairs were taken up by a few of the senior players.

  I tried not to roll my eyes as Dad gave his opinion on each player’s game, and they hung on every word. It was disgusting how everyone groveled to him, even Patrick. No wonder Kaitlyn had ducked out on this. She hated it when her dad did this shit, too.

  Patrick scooted his chair closer to mine. In the not-so-distant past, I’d have been flattered he was flirting with me, but I was too worried about Paxton.

  I dissected Patrick’s behavior with a more cynical eye. There were only a few women in the room, so really no competition, and he’d been paying more attention to me since I’d slept with his brother. While I didn’t think he knew what had happened, something had changed enough in his eyes to spark a little sibling rivalry. The twins were competitive, and Patrick was used to getting what he wanted. Not that Pax was a complete pushover. I’d seen him stand his ground more than once, but he was more selective regarding his hills to die for, while Patrick picked every hill and wanted to win every battle and every competition—and he usually did.

  My gaze slid to the door for the hundredth time, and this time my diligence was rewarded.
Pax walked in looking like a dog beaten by its master. Only a few minutes ago, he’d been flying high after that game-winning score.

  He paused in the doorway and swept his gaze around the room. Our eyes met briefly before he tightened his jaw and looked away. My heart sank as fast as a stone thrown in a stream. There weren’t any seats left at my dad’s table, or I’d wave him over. He skirted past me and joined Lex and Jonah across the room.

  My sneaking suspicion regarding who’d been on that phone call earlier had to be correct. There was one person who beat Paxton down faster than anyone—his father.

  He needed a friend, and I wanted to be there for him. Plotting my escape, I slid from my chair. Patrick had forgotten all about me and was basking in the praise my dad heaped on him. Meanwhile, my dad was in full hockey advice mode and didn’t even know I existed.

  I walked to the soft drink station closest to Paxton. Doing a short detour, I snagged a nearby chair, sliding it between Lex and Paxton. Lex scooted over to make room.

  “You can only listen to that bullshit for so long,” I said to no one in particular.

  Paxton, deep in conversation with Jonah and Lex, nodded in acknowledgement. I waited for a lull in the conversation, which happened when a harried waitress dropped another pizza in the middle of their table. The guys grabbed for pieces like a pack of dogs. I sat back, afraid I’d lose a hand or fingers if I tried to snag one for myself.

  Paxton took a bite and chewed. His gaze swung around to me.

  “Great game tonight. That goal at the end of the game was wicked.” I flashed my most brilliant smile.

  “Thanks.” He turned his head and regarded me with a hurt expression.

  What had I done?

  “Is everything okay?”

  He frowned, picked up a napkin, and shredded it. I surely hoped he didn’t imagine me being that napkin. “Yeah, sure. Why?” His indifferent tone chilled me.

  “I saw you on a phone call earlier. You seemed upset.”

  “It’s nothing. Just the usual parental BS.”

  “We need to talk.”

  Paxton sighed as if he’d been expecting and dreading this. “Fine.” He pushed back his chair, not waiting for me. I hurried to catch up with him as he stepped outside.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I hissed, pretty upset with his attitude.

  “With me? What about you? After last night, I—” He stopped and clenched his jaw. I waited for him to finish his sentence, but he didn’t.

  “What? You what?”

  “Nothing. It doesn’t fucking matter.”

  “It does matter. Last night was—” I searched my brain for an answer, because I didn’t know what it was. I’d been struggling with what I’d done ever since it’d happened.

  “A mistake. One more mistake.” He was in a mood, and I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him.

  “Yeah, it was a mistake,” I shot back. I leaned into him to punctuate my point and jabbed at his chest with my finger. Our eyes met, and before I knew what was happening, we were in each other’s arms and kissing as if the end of the world would happen any second. I didn’t know who made the first move or if we both did, not that it mattered.

  There was nothing tender about our kisses. They were deep and rough with raw emotions as our frustrations bubbled to the surface and manifested themselves in a hot make-out session. His big hands grabbed handfuls of my ass, and I slid mine up his shirt, digging my nails into his back. We were hungry for each other like two feral creatures with raging hormones and uncontrollable needs.

  “Oh, my fucking God. Can’t you two find somewhere else to do that?” I heard the words, but it was several seconds before they sank in, and I realized someone was talking to us. Paxton released my ass, and I staggered back a few steps. Blinking to get my bearings, I turned to see Kaitlyn standing on the sidewalk, hands on hips, with disgust lining her beautiful face. Before either of us had a chance to respond, Kaitlyn pushed past us and through the door. The mood was broken.

  “Shouldn’t you get back to your dad and Patrick?” Paxton jerked his chin toward their table. Then, dismissing me, he followed Kaitlyn into the building.

  I’d been given my walking papers.

  He’d never treated me so callously before. Never. I felt used. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it, but now wasn’t the time to confront him regarding his behavior. I wasn’t sure what last night had been or what had just happened or if this attraction between us led anywhere. I did know one thing, though. He was one of my best friends, and we needed to figure our shit out.

  He’d just had a big argument with his asshole father, and maybe he was butt-hurt over Patrick flirting with me. Whatever. We’d be having words. Soon.

  I stalked inside, unable to resist a glance at Paxton. He didn’t look my way. Sighing, I went to my table.

  And began to plot my next move.

  12

  Sized Up

  Paxton

  Okay, I was an asshole, and I’d taken my misery out on Naomi.

  I owed her an apology. She’d made herself scarce the rest of the weekend, and I couldn’t blame her to a point. I’d been a grouchy jerk and deserved her cold shoulder. On the other hand, she sent mixed messages, leaving me confused as hell. But, damn, that blow job and the sex from the week before haunted me and gave me no peace.

  By Wednesday evening, I still hadn’t seen her. I wasn’t sure who was avoiding whom. Maybe it was both of us. I’d done a lot of thinking and come to a few conclusions about my life.

  I carried my heaping tray of food to a table and sat down next to Patrick and a few other teammates, along with the gaggle of females currently in Patrick’s fan club.

  I bit into my hamburger and chewed. The food in the dining hall was actually good, and the choices were endless. Pretty much something for everyone. And all a guy could eat. Considering the energy hockey players expended, the endless supply of food was a definite plus.

  I ignored the girls sizing me up, knowing I was their second choice if they couldn’t snag my brother. I must’ve put out not-interested vibes, because they soon dismissed me and went back to drooling over Patrick.

  I’d had a few workouts with Coach Garf, if you could call them that. The guy was decidedly weird. We did very little hockey and a lot of visualization and positive thinking exercises, along with reviewing a few chapters in the book, which I actually did read, even highlighted some paragraphs. The book had been a welcome distraction from my Naomi problems.

  Coach insisted once the mental aspect of my game improved, the physical would fall in line. I was all-in, especially after being snubbed by Gene Smith and tortured watching Naomi with my brother. The negative talk in my head had to go, and I was making an effort to ban it and replace my thoughts with more positive affirmations. Coach did some of this work with the entire team, but he was drilling down with me, getting deeper into my psyche. The emotional intrusion bordered on uncomfortable at times, but mostly I kept an open mind and gave it all I had.

  I knew I was screwed up. You couldn’t have a dad like I did and not be. Patrick and I’d turned out pretty well considering, thanks to those first ten years with a loving mother.

  “Hey, are you in la-la land or what?” Patrick snapped his fingers in front of my face. I fucking hated it when he did that and snarled at him, drawing a hearty laugh from the asshole.

  “What?” I said, shoving his arm away from my face.

  “What’s with you? You’ve been weird lately.” Patrick lowered his voice so his admirers wouldn’t hear. He probably could’ve shouted as they were too busy giggling and chattering.

  I shrugged and took another bite of the burger.

  Patrick narrowed his eyes and studied me. “What’ve you been doing after practice every day? You haven’t joined us at the Biscuit.”

  “I have stuff to do. I’m not your shadow, you know. I have my own stuff going on.” My words were harsher than I meant, and Patrick reared back as if I’d slapped him.

>   “Shit,” he said, shaking his head. “What’s stuck up your ass, bro?”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m just…going through some things.”

  His eyes clouded over briefly. “I’m here, you know. I’m always here.”

  “I know.” Way to make me feel like shit, bro. I’d shut him out, and he knew it.

  “Okay, well— Hey, there’s Naomi.” Patrick waved at her as she stepped into line at a serving station. She smiled and waved back. I looked away, irritated at him and irritated at myself for being irritated. How’s that for skewed logic?

  I felt Patrick’s gaze on me. “I wonder why I never noticed her before. She’s hot.”

  “You were too busy working your way through all the blondes on campus.” I hunkered down over my fries and stuffed several in my mouth so I wouldn’t say something stupid I wouldn’t be able to take back.

  “Variety is the spice of life, and now she’s blonde.” Patrick angled his head toward mine. “You don’t have a problem with me asking her out, do you? I know you’ve had a thing for her over the past couple years, but you’ve never asked her out.”

  “No problem. Go for it.”

  “You sure?” Patrick narrowed his gaze, and I looked down, afraid the miserable truth would be reflected in my eyes. I was crazier about her than I’d ever been, but I didn’t like being jacked around, either, by a woman who couldn’t figure out which guy she wanted.

  “Positive.”

  “Hey, Naomi, have a seat.” Patrick was all smiles as Naomi sat down across from us, which drew jealous stares from the gaggle.

  “Hi, Patrick. Hi, Pax.”

  I mumbled a hello and didn’t look up. If she and my brother were undressing each other with their eyes, I didn’t want to witness it.

  I bolted my food down and stood abruptly. “I’ve got a study group I’m late for. Catch you guys later.”

  Before either of them responded, I was out of there. I chanced a look over my shoulder as I dropped off my tray. Naomi stared thoughtfully at me while Patrick stared at her. He was moving in, and she’d finally get the guy she really wanted. And that guy wasn’t me. She wouldn’t need a surrogate anymore. She’d have the real thing.