Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Jami Davenport

  “Oh, fuck,” I muttered under my breath as I saw my dad in the lobby. I half expected Naomi’s father to be with him, but he was nowhere to be found. Glancing left and right, I plotted an escape, but I was too slow.

  “Paxton,” my father ordered in that tone I rarely defied. Better to take my verbal licks without complaint and get it over with. Sensing Dad was preoccupied with me, Patrick attempted to skirt past us, but Dad grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into our happy little family group.

  I met Patrick’s gaze and sighed. He gave me that we’re screwed look back. We were both in for a butt chewing.

  “What the fuck was that performance tonight?” Dad perched his hands on his hips. His angry gaze slid from me to Patrick and back. Obvs, we were both the focus of his ire this time around.

  I shrugged, knowing there was no good answer, and silence was probably best.

  “Don’t get smart with me, young man.” He shook his finger in front of my face. I held my ground and didn’t flinch.

  Patrick, who had less patience for our dad’s bullshit, stepped forward. “He didn’t say a fucking word. How is that getting smart with you?”

  “And you? You shot like shit. You wouldn’t be able to score a goal tonight if the goalie had left the net wide open. Your shooting was way off.”

  “We can’t all be perfect like you,” I muttered and deflected his anger back on me. Patrick and I often ping-ponged our responses to make it harder for him to focus on one of us. We liked to think of it as a survival technique.

  “I don’t know what the fuck is up with you lately, but your job is to handle the puck and pass to your brother unless you have a sure shot.”

  “A sure shot? What’s that? Do you mean if the goalie passes out or takes a coffee break, I can shoot?” I ignored my brother’s shocked expression. I wasn’t usually the defiant one. I left defiance to Patrick and usually suffered in silence. I preferred flying under the radar with Dad, which I’d accomplished because Patrick was the chosen child, and I was merely an afterthought.

  “Look, you insubordinate little bastard.” He moved closer to me, his posture threatening. I held my ground. I was bigger and fitter than him. “Don’t you fucking ever speak to me the way you did last time.”

  “I’ll speak to you in a manner you deserve.”

  Patrick’s eyes grew big, and he regarded me with a new respect.

  “Ah, Mr. Graham, I’ve been looking for you.” Coach Garf appeared alongside us with a huge smile on his face. Dad’s expression switched from angry to pleasant like he’d flipped a switch. Patrick rolled his eyes and prepared to bolt. I’d be right on his heels. Coach had run interference for us.

  “Hello, Coach,” Dad said in his smarmy suck-up voice. Patrick made a gagging sound, and I had to clap a hand over my mouth to stop my snickering.

  “I’d like to spend some time with you, pick your brain. I know you played in the NHL and might have some insight into coaching strategies.”

  Dad puffed up like a peacock in a parade.

  “Dad, looks like you’re busy. We’ll see you in the morning.” Patrick grabbed my arm and turned.

  “Yeah, certainly, boys, I’ll text you. We’ll meet up for breakfast.” Our father was all smiles and niceties now. His behavior was disgusting, and I owed a debt of gratitude to coach. Maybe he’d attempt some of his psychological tricks on our Dad, but I wished him luck with that. The man wouldn’t be a willing participant.

  We bolted for the elevator.

  “Damn, we need to buy Coach a drink,” Patrick said. “What’d you say to Dad that has his boxers in a wad?”

  “Last time he called me, I ended the call with Fuck you and hung up on him.”

  Patrick grinned at me and slapped my back. “Pax, you are my hero. I’m sure he deserved it.”

  “You know he did.”

  Patrick caught the eye of a few thirtysomething businesswomen standing off to one side of the lobby. Their faces lit up when they saw us. My brother winked at them, and they took that as an invitation.

  “Later,” I said, not interested tonight in hooking up with anyone—except Naomi, and I didn’t need to be reminded we were staying in that damn friend zone.

  I walked toward the pub, the only place open in the hotel to get a bite to eat. Not only was I irritated by my crappy play, but my brother was flirting with these women when he could have Naomi. I shook my head and slid into a booth in the nearly deserted seating area.

  Slumping in the booth, I wallowed in my foul mood until a shadow crossed over the table.

  I looked up to find my own personal angel smiling down at me, and my crappy mood wasn’t so crappy anymore.

  15

  Kindness Lecture

  Naomi

  I slipped out from behind a large potted plant and checked to make sure no one had caught me eavesdropping on Mr. Graham and his sons. I was furious at the depth of cruelty and selfishness in that man. Pax needed me, and I was determined to find him.

  I startled a hotel worker who was dusting the nearby coffee table. She jumped backward, clutching her duster to her chest.

  “I’m sorry.” My face flamed red, and I hurried past her. Near the main doors, Patrick flirted with several women. I barely gave them a second glance.

  I stopped in front of the hotel pub and peeked inside. Paxton was slumped in a booth, nursing a glass of water and hunkered down over a menu. His shoulders were slumped and his body language signaled defeat like a blinking neon light.

  I hesitated, not sure being alone with him was a good idea. But he needed me, and he was one of my besties. I slunk across the room, keeping my eyes on him, still reluctant to approach him. My feet had no such problem and carried me right to his booth.

  “You look like you could use a friend?” I said.

  His head shot up, and he regarded me warily. “I guess I could.”

  I sat down across from him. “I was nearby when your dad accosted you and Patrick.”

  “How much did you hear?” He frowned and rubbed his eyes wearily. Heaving a sigh, he met my gaze. I wanted to wipe the devastation off his face, make all his troubles go away, and give him something good to think about. My thoughts had started down that more-than-friends path once again. I jerked myself back from the brink of propositioning him.

  “Enough,” I said.

  “So you heard my dad?”

  “Yes, pretty much everyone did.”

  He sighed and slammed back his water, signaling for another. I ordered one, too. I hated for a man to drink water alone.

  “He’s a little harsh,” I offered sympathetically, tempering my words. Frankly, I wanted to slap the man for how he treated his boys. Coach Garf had way more patience than I did when dealing with obnoxious parents. Maybe my patience had been worn thin by my own dealings with an overbearing parent. Regardless, I knew my dad loved me in his own way. I wasn’t sure I’d say the same for the twins’ father. He seemed more interested in what they might be able to do for him.

  “That’s one way of putting it.” Paxton took a huge gulp of his newly delivered water glass.

  “You might slow down.” I pointed at his new glass of water, now empty.

  He snorted. “Imagine you telling me that?”

  “I know. Right?” I laughed, and we grinned at each other, feeling our old mutual respect and fondness.

  “Hungry?”

  “You know, I am.”

  He ordered nachos and offered to share. I never turned down an invitation like that. We made easy small talk, teasing and joking like we once had. A weight lifted off my shoulders, and my world looked so much brighter. Pax and I were finally in sync again.

  His phone buzzed, and he scowled at it.

  “Your dad again?”

  “Nah, Patrick telling me not to come to the room until curfew.”

  I nodded knowingly.

  “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

  I shrugged. Knowing his twin, my alleged crush, was hooking up with some rand
om female didn’t depress me like it once had.

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Not really. Patrick is Patrick. We both know that.” Now if Pax had joined his brother and hooked up with one of those women… The mental picture of him screwing someone else’s brains out ate at my gut, surprising me. I met his gaze. We stared into each other’s eyes, not speaking but communicating with our hearts, not our heads. I dared not decipher what those two hearts were saying to each other.

  Finally, I voiced what we’d both been thinking. “Pax, I really do miss you. I miss our little talks. I miss hanging with you.”

  “We hang out.”

  “Only if I initiate it, and you find any excuse to distance yourself.”

  “I don’t want to get in the way of you and my brother.” His words rang hollow and broke my heart as I’d broken his.

  “Did you know Patrick asked me out?”

  “I knew he was going to.”

  “I took a rain check. I had a test the next morning.”

  “I’m okay with the two of you. You know that, right? Not that I get a vote, but don’t let me hold you back because of—you know—what’s happened between us on occasion.”

  Hell yeah, did I know. It was all I thought about, especially late at night alone in my little dorm room. Thinking about him constantly was part of my own personal dilemma and confusion, since I’d been so wrapped up in pursuit of his brother for so long. Just last night, I’d dreamed that I asked him to reciprocate and go down on me. Paxton’s face between my legs, giving me pleasure, while his blue eyes held mine was my newest naughty fantasy. At first, I’d convinced myself I was really lusting after Patrick, but once Paxton cut his hair and Patrick’s was still long, I knew the truth. The image haunting me was Paxton with his now-short hair and number fifteen tattooed below his hip bone.

  “You should go out with him. You’ve wanted to for a long time,” Paxton pushed.

  “I might.” I was telling the truth. The one way to get one of them out of my system was to date the other one and see how they compared. But the idea of sleeping with Patrick after that epic night I’d spent with Paxton didn’t appeal to me as it once had. And seemed like such a betrayal of Pax. I was such a fucking mess.

  “I want to make sure we’re okay, because from where I’m sitting, we’re not,” I forged ahead.

  “We’re fine.” He smiled at me. While his smile was filled with sadness, there was also sincerity. I hated to see him sad, knowing I’d played a part in his struggles of late. Instead of harping on whether we were really fine or not, I decided to test his claims by talking with him as a friend.

  “You’re wearing the jersey,” he noted with a grin. I looked down. I’d forgotten that, on a whim, I’d put it on before the game.

  “I am. I like it.”

  “Good.” He smirked as if at some secret joke.

  “What’s going on with you? You’ve altered the way you play. Any reason why?”

  “Are you going to criticize me, too?”

  “No, not at all. I think it’s about time.”

  “You do?”

  I nodded.

  Paxton glanced around, as if not wanting to be heard, and lowered his voice. “Coach Garf is working with me. He has contacts with the Sockeyes, and they’d like to see me step up my game, realize my full potential, that kind of thing. They’ll have a few spots on the roster next fall due to retirements, and they think I might work out well in one of them.” As he talked, he rubbed something under his shirt, but I couldn’t tell what it was.

  “So that explains it.”

  “Garf thinks I’ve lived in my brother’s shadow long enough.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “I think I’m on the verge of not having that shadow around, and I’ll be forced to handle life and hockey without Patrick. He’s been my crutch for too long.”

  “I think Garf is a smart man, and you’re not so dumb yourself.”

  Paxton laughed, and I loved hearing his laugh. I hadn’t heard it nearly enough lately.

  “It’s causing stress with my brother and, to a lesser extent, the team.”

  “And your dad?”

  “My dad never approves of anything I do.”

  “Patrick’s having a hard time dealing with you not playing a supporting role?”

  “I guess he’s confused and irritated. He has his own future to consider.”

  “So do you.”

  “I know.” His blue eyes met mine, and my heart did a little dance all around my rib cage. We stared at each other for a good long while until Kaitlyn and Lex showed up.

  “Hey, sit over there so I can sit by my girl,” Lex insisted.

  Paxton didn’t argue but got up to move to the booth seat next to me. I scooted over to make room for his big body. A body I was hyperaware of. A body I craved. A body I saw naked every time I looked at him.

  Paxton rested his elbows on the table, and my gaze was drawn to his muscular arms, easily discernable through the sweater he wore. That man would make the worst Christmas sweater look like a million bucks.

  I licked my lips and grimaced at Kaitlyn’s knowing smirk. She’d caught me looking, and I was guilty as charged. The guys didn’t notice. They were busy talking about the game, while Kaitlyn and I sipped our water. Coach Keller would frown on any of us drinking alcohol while on the road.

  “Your dad is brutal, Pax,” Kaitlyn noted during a lull in the conversation.

  “Yeah, he’s a little intense.”

  “That wasn’t the word I’d use for it. Maybe more like asshole.” Kaitlyn’s blunt honesty didn’t bother Paxton. In fact, he wasn’t put off by her assessment of his dad. He probably agreed with her.

  “You can’t pick your relatives,” was his only comment.

  “Tell me about it.” Kaitlyn’s smile was kind and sympathetic. She had her own daddy problems.

  We made small talk for a while longer before Paxton excused himself to get some sleep and Lex followed. Kaitlyn stayed with me.

  “He’s still stuck on you.”

  “You think?”

  “I do, but he’s gun-shy.”

  “I really burned him. I don’t blame him for not wanting to go there again. Paxton is in a bad place right now. Coach Garf is pushing him out of his comfort zone and forcing him to take more risks. As a result, his play is going downhill.”

  “Needs to get worse before it gets better,” Kaitlyn said confidently.

  “That’s what Coach told him.”

  Kaitlyn grinned. “I am my father’s daughter.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Let him settle in. See where things go with the two of them.”

  “Dad’s pushing me toward Patrick. He’s got it all figured out. Patrick will be the heir apparent to his hockey throne since he doesn’t have any sons, and I’m scared to put on a pair of skates, let alone get on the ice with them.”

  “You’re afraid to skate?”

  “I tried to learn to skate, but I fell down more than I skated. I had a particularly bad fall in which I broke my leg, and the bone actually pierced my skin. There was blood everywhere. I tried a few times after that to skate but had such extreme panic attacks, my dad quit asking. I was afraid to skate, and such fear galled him. He found me lacking in courage and athletic ability.”

  “Wow, that’s brutal. I don’t know if I’d skate after that either.”

  “Well, Dad doesn’t feel that way.”

  “Your dad’s like mine. They’re tough men who see skating ability as a measure of worth.”

  “But you skate?” It was a question, somewhat.

  Kaitlyn only shrugged. “Something I’ve noticed about you. You’re a pleaser. You become the person you believe others want you to be. Why don’t you please yourself for once? Be who you want to be?”

  “I am.”

  “You are? You altered your appearance to be more like the type that Patrick goes for culminating in the blonde hair and skanky clothes.”
<
br />   I sat up straight as if she’d slapped me. “I did not.”

  “What’s your natural hair color?”

  “Light brown.”

  “Why don’t you embrace you, instead of copying the women you see hanging all over him?”

  I didn’t have an answer to that.

  “Figure out what you want. Until then, steer clear of Paxton. That would be the kind thing to do.”

  Imagine a lecture from Kaitlyn on kindness? Wonders never ceased.

  Her words rang true when it came to Paxton.

  I had to make some decisions, and not just about which twin I preferred.

  I had to decide who I was.

  Myself or someone else entirely.

  16

  Goodness

  Paxton

  Naomi and I had reached a comfortable place. We weren’t as close as we once had been, but we were getting along, and she was always ready with an encouraging word when it came to my game, or lack of. The chemistry didn’t go away, but I was dealing with it as best I could.

  I continued to struggle, pissing off my brother on more than one occasion. I might be getting discouraged, but I wasn’t a quitter. Coach Garf believed in me, and I wouldn’t let him down regardless of the consequences.

  Today after practice, Patrick and I had a heated exchange of words in the locker room with the entire team as our witnesses. We’d never done that before. When he attacked, I unleashed my frustration on him and fought back. Usually, I walked away from our arguments. Not this time. Tate, Jonah, and Lex had to get between us.

  After nearly coming to blows with my twin, my first inclination was to crawl off and lick my wounds. Not this time. Damn it. I joined the guys at the Biscuit for drinks. I’d prefer hiding out in the library, but that wasn’t me. Patrick’s presence wouldn’t prevent me from doing the things I wanted to do.

  Lex and Kaitlyn saved me a seat and waved me over when I walked in. The team went out of their way to pretend nothing had happened this afternoon, but we all knew differently. Patrick’s and my differences were beginning to affect the team.