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Shot on Goal: Seattle Sockeyes Hockey (Game On in Seattle Book 11)

Page 19

by Jami Davenport


  They were tied three to three with five minutes left. Drew was poised for a line change when Smooth passed to Cave, who sped for the net like a streak of lightning. He paid no attention to the defensemen on either side of him, streaking equally quickly toward the net.

  They all met in front of the net in a tangle of flailing legs and struggling bodies. Drew held his breath. Cave was on the bottom of the pile-up. As players shook themselves free, Cave remained on the ice, unmoving.

  Drew leaned forward, his heart pounding. A guy hated to see his teammate down, and especially hated when he didn’t move after taking side-to-side hits like that. The guys on the ice were gathered around him at a respectable distance as the trainer and team doctor kneeled next to him.

  Medics with a board rushed to him, and he was carefully strapped onto it. Just as they carried him past the bench, he lifted a hand and gave a thumbs-up. Drew blew out his breath in a rush of relief. At least Cave was moving.

  Drew didn’t have any time to fret about his teammate as his line took to the ice. Renewed energy surged through him as he called to the guys. “We have to take this one for Cave.”

  They slapped their sticks together and moved to circle Rush, who fought for the puck once it was dropped and sliced it to Drew. He skated toward the net with renewed purpose and sent a rocket toward the goalie. It hit his helmet, took a good bounce, and fell into the net for a score.

  Four to three.

  Drew’s teammates mugged him, knocking him to the ice and leaping on top of him. He didn’t care. He was laughing and shouting his triumph. When he was finally able to gain his feet, he skated to the bench and took a seat, panting like he’d run a marathon.

  They could hold on. They had to hold on. The crowd noise had risen to earsplitting. Normally, he’d be suffering from a major headache, but tonight the noise felt damn good.

  He embraced it, let it wrap around him like body armor, and called upon it to recharge his batteries.

  For three minutes, they battled it out, but when the final buzzer sounded, the Sockeyes were Western Conference Champions, and they were playing for the Stanley Cup. He reveled in the celebration and awarding of the trophy.

  They’d done it. But they still had a long way to go.

  He followed his teammates around the ice, sticks raised in a salute to their incredible fans, who gave them home advantage every time they hit the ice. He listened to Coop’s inspired speech as he thanked his teammates, coaches, and the fans.

  The celebration continued in the locker room with Drew once again getting the Fish Award. An update was given on Cave. He had a concussion and had fractured his ankle. He’d be out for the season but would recover.

  As things began to wear down, Drew texted Marina: How about a private celebration tonight?

  Your house or mine?

  Mine, I have a hot tub.

  I like the way you think.

  “Drew, a word with you?”

  Drew jerked his head up with a guilty start, tucked his phone away in his stall, and regarded his coach with wide-eyed innocence. Gorst didn’t buy it and rolled his eyes. He led Drew to a semi-private corner of the room.

  “You’re back on the first line. To be honest, I was moving you back if we made the finals regardless of Cave’s misfortune. You’ve earned it.”

  “Thank you, Coach. I won’t let you down.”

  Gorst appraised him from head to toe. Drew knew he saw a sweaty, exhausted mess, but he also saw something he liked. “I know you won’t.”

  Drew nodded. Gorst clapped him on the back and turned to his team.

  “Take the day off tomorrow, boys. Then we fly to Pittsburgh and prove we belong here.”

  Cheers rose.

  “And keep out of the news and out of jail.”

  Chuckles from around the room. Smooth threw a towel at Rush. “He means you, Rush.”

  “Me?” Rush innocently pointed to his sweaty, naked chest. “I not cause trouble. Ever.”

  That brought more rounds of laughter and towel snapping. Rush escaped to the showers, leaving a path of clothes behind him.

  “Good game,” Coop said. “So, you’re back on the first line. We’re glad to have you back.”

  Smooth nodded.

  “You already know?”

  “We knew Coach was considering it before this game. Sorry Cave got hurt, but we’re glad you’re back in form and ready to win this thing.”

  “Yeah, Bella and I are already planning a day in bed with the Cup. We’re going to—” Smooth stopped in midsentence.

  Drew and Coop held up their hands and shouted in unison, “We don’t want to hear it.”

  He hustled to the showers in a hurry to meet up with Marina. He was putting on his tie when Rush invited him to join the guys for an after-party.

  “Sorry, I have plans.”

  “You have plan without comrades on biggest win of our lives?” Rush scratched his head, genuinely puzzled. He probably couldn’t imagine a guy not spending time with his buddies on a night like tonight.

  “Hey, Deli, partners are included. Bring the mystery girl along,” Gibs yelled from across the room. “Or guy.”

  “She’s not a guy. Far from it,” Drew blurted out before he thought. He should be keeping his mouth shut. Any indication he had a girlfriend would have these bastards sniffing around. They wouldn’t have to look far to figure out there was only one woman he spent any appreciable time with. “It’s my mother,” he lied.

  “Bring her long. Your mom’s hot,” Rush grinned and wagged his eyebrows. Drew threatened to hit him with the fish award.

  “Bring it on,” Rush said.

  Rolling his eyes, Drew grabbed his bag and hurried from the room, ignoring the “mama’s boy” comments along with others. He was proud of himself for steering them off the right trail. They’d buy he was meeting his mother. He did have a rep as being cowed by his parents, which he’d deserved in the past. Not so much lately.

  Marina was waiting on his porch when he pulled up. They were barely inside the door before their clothes were spread all over the entryway, and they were naked and writhing on the floor like rabbits on a mission.

  * * * *

  Marina slipped out of bed and pulled on a too-large T-shirt of Drew’s. Ignoring the chilly early morning, she stepped out onto his deck and stared at the dark sky.

  They were going to be playing for the Cup, and she heard that ticking clock as loudly as if it were five inches from her ear.

  Tonight had been magical. Not that every night with Drew wasn’t magical, but tonight had been different. Denial no longer worked. She was falling in love with Drew. Maybe she’d already fallen, but she wasn’t willing to concede so quickly.

  Why couldn’t love be easy? Why did every good thing in her life come with a large price tag? She’d made so much progress, yet one slip-up and she’d be in worse shape than after the Games. At least her heart hadn’t been hopelessly entangled with someone else’s heart. Losing her career had been devastating, but losing Drew would be unrecoverable.

  She’d gotten herself in deep this time. Despite her attempts at doing everything right, she’d done one thing wrong. She’d slept with and fallen for one of her players.

  She turned and watched a sleeping Drew, uncertain how to fix this mess and not sure she wanted to. At least, not yet.

  Drew’s parents didn’t like her, and they had control over him to an extent via guilt and determination. She had everything to lose if they were discovered. He’d still have a spot with the team if he kept upping his game. She’d be out on the streets, or worse, she’d be coaching a man she couldn’t touch. Their relationship had to end if she were full-time. Hell, it should’ve ended before it started, full time or not. She’d made her bed, she’d been enjoying laying in it, but eventually she’d pay the price. She knew that as sure as she knew how special Drew was.

  A smart girl would cut her losses and get out now. Only, looking at him lying there so peacefully and recalling how he tou
ched her and smiled at her, she couldn’t leave. She had to see this thing through to the end, no matter the consequences. Even if she broke her heart irreparably in the process.

  * * * *

  Drew lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. Marina slept next to him, snuggled against his side. He had his arm tightly around her.

  In a few nights the team would play their first game in the Finals. The way things worked out, the Penguins had the home-team advantage with the first two games in Pittsburgh.

  Drew looked forward to the finals. Lately, he was looking forward to a lot of stuff in his life. Things were looking up, and the only thing he’d change right now was to hear from his father. He’d gotten a few texts from his mother asking him to call his dad. He’d be expected to apologize, and he’d apologized too many times when issues weren’t his fault. If he caved once more, would they ever respect him as a person, rather than a replacement for David? What did they call the second one in the royal family? Oh, yeah, heir and a spare. David had been the heir to their father’s hockey crown. Drew had been the spare, saddled with a legacy he’d never planned on upholding and expectations he struggled to fulfill.

  Then there was Marina. He sighed and gazed at her. She was beautiful, a vision of loveliness wrapped up in a sexy little body with the sweet face of an angel. And she was a spitfire in bed. She made love like she skated—with reckless abandon.

  In the past few days, he’d had some disturbing thoughts. He’d never had such thoughts before about a woman, but he was starting to wonder if forever might be a possibility.

  The two of them had been trying to get through one day at a time, keep their relationship secret, and spend what time they could together. They were playing a dangerous game, and now he was thinking of upping the stakes?

  He was insane, but he craved the insanity she brought into his life. She’d made him feel again, not just in bed and when he was with her, but when he was on the ice.

  Where did that leave Marina and him? If they wanted a future, one of them had to leave the Sockeyes. Marina was making herself invaluable to the team. She’d done some good things with their worst skaters. They’d offer her a permanent job, and he’d have to be the one to leave the team and hockey because it would make no sense to play hockey elsewhere, forcing a long-distance relationship.

  A week ago, quitting would’ve been easy to do, but now he wasn’t so sure.

  He’d enjoyed the last game, craved the adrenaline rush of playing to his limits, savored the two goals and the joy on the faces of his teammates when they’d won. Like a junkie, he desired those feelings again. Now that he’d been there, he didn’t want to give it up.

  But where did that leave them?

  His phone rang, and he sighed, wondering who would call him at seven a.m. He fumbled for it, knocked it on the floor, and tried to fish it out from under the bed. He reached too far and slid off the bed but finally retrieved the phone, answering it before glancing to see the caller’s name.

  “Hello,” he panted, winded from his recent struggles to find the phone.

  “Did I interrupt anything, honey?” His mother’s laughter surprised him. She sounded in high spirits, which he took as a good sign.

  “Uh, no, Mom, I couldn’t find the phone.”

  “I see. Good game, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” He sat on the floor with his back against the bed. Marina stirred behind him and he hoped she’d keep quiet. He wasn’t so lucky.

  “Drew, who’s on the phone?” he heard Marina say.

  He muted the phone quickly to say, “My mom.”

  “Oh.” Marina sounded horrified. “She didn’t hear me, did she?”

  “Don’t know.” He made a sign for her to keep quiet. “Hi, Mom, how are you?”

  “Drew, is someone in bed with you?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “I heard someone. Don’t toy with me. I’m your mother. I know when you’re lying.”

  “It’s the TV.”

  “Drew, no it’s not. Who is it?”

  “Mom, did you call for something? If not, I’ll give you a call back. This isn’t a good time for me to talk.”

  “Yes, I did. I have great news. I’m moving to Seattle, which means your father will be, too.”

  “Oh, Mom, that’s great.” He hoped he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt. Having both of them in the same town as him wasn’t his idea of a good time.

  “I’m the new skating director at Ethan Parker’s facility.”

  Drew glanced at Marina, who was lying across the bed with her head on his shoulder. She was expressionless, but she’d heard his mother, of that much he was certain.

  “That’s wonderful. Congratulations. When do you start?”

  “In two weeks. Ethan has already offered the use of a condo he owns on Lake Union until we find something else. It’s the chance of a lifetime after that setback four years ago. I finally got that second chance I deserved.”

  “I’m really happy for you.”

  “Oh, I’m getting another call, I have to take that one. Tell Marina good morning for me.” On that note, his mother ended the call.

  “She knows?” Marina choked out the words, as if she were expecting the world to end at any moment. Even Drew couldn’t help feeling a premonition of impending doom, but he shook it off.

  “I guess. She didn’t sound overly concerned. She’s probably thrilled with her new job and nothing will ruin that for her. Maybe she’s moved on. After all, Ethan likes you, so it’d be better if she treats you nicely.”

  “I don’t think it’s as easy as that. She’s hated me for four years. A person doesn’t get over that level of hatred in a few hours, do they?”

  “She hasn’t hated you. She’s gotten over that.” He caught the troubled expression in Marina’s eyes. “She won’t tell anyone.”

  “It’s not that, though I wouldn’t hold my breath. I was going to apply for a teaching position there. Regardless of what you think, she’ll never hire me.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  “And I might not be, either.”

  “My mom’s not a bad person, just very driven.”

  “I know your mom quite well.” Marina shut down as if he’d said something wrong. Maybe she didn’t like his defense of his mother, considering the bad blood between them. Marina slid off the bed and started yanking on her clothes with deliberate, jerky movements. She was pissed, but he didn’t understand why.

  “Marina, what did I say?”

  “I can’t believe you have to ask that question.” She stopped long enough to slam him with a scathing glare.

  “I’m a guy. We’re clueless. You have to spell out stuff for us.”

  “Obviously.” She stalked toward the bedroom door with a stiff back and her head held high.

  Drew hesitated a moment then bounded after her, snagging her around the waist and pulling her against him. Her struggle was feeble.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with his mouth close to her ear. She loved having her earlobes nibbled on, so he did that next. He’d wear her down. She moaned and tilted her head. He tugged on one earlobe with his teeth, while rubbing the other with his thumb.

  “Drew, stop. You’re not playing fair,” she pleaded and placed her small hands on his chest. She gazed up at him, and the anger had slipped out of her.

  “Tell me what I did wrong.”

  “Nothing really. It’s stupid. You were defending your mother, and I wonder who you’d choose if you had to make a choice.”

  “She’s my mother,” he countered, meeting her gaze. He narrowed his eyes, unable to curb his defensive tone. “Of course, I’ll defend her.”

  “And what am I?”

  He paused, not sure how to answer her question. He knew how he wanted to answer it, but he had to be sure. He wasn’t one to make rash decisions without exploring all the options and running it by a few people first. He ran his life by committee. No wonder she was irritated with him.

  “W
here do I fit in your life, Drew? Do I even fit at all?”

  “I’m not sure. I know where I want you to fit.”

  “And where is that?”

  He opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again and dived in without considering the consequences, a new experience for him. “I want us to have a real relationship, one without all this sneaking around. I want to be proud to have you by my side, instead of worrying someone might see us. I want to take you out and show you off. I want to spend rainy evenings in front of the fireplace with you. I want everything any couple has.”

  “I—I want that, too. I guess my frustration is based on my inability to have it. I also want my career back on track.”

  “Which one do you want the most?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “We don’t have to decide yet. We can keep this under wraps through the end of the playoffs then we’ll know for sure which direction we’re going and how to handle it.”

  “Are you leaving hockey?” she asked.

  “Not sure. A week ago, I would’ve told you I was leaning toward getting out of the sport. Now I’m conflicted,” he said.

  “What if we both choose the Sockeyes?”

  He sighed. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  She nodded, reluctantly agreeing with him, and he grinned at her, bending down to seal their agreement with a kiss.

  * * * *

  The next day before they flew out to Pittsburgh, Marina walked to the parking garage to grab her suitcase from her car. The bus would be leaving in about an hour.

  Cassandra Delacorte was exiting the building. Marina hesitated. Drew’s mother nodded at her and slowed her stride. Marina stopped and waited.

  Now was her chance. No one was around, and Cassandra was alone. A person didn’t get ahead unless they took risks, and she was about to take a big one.

  Cassandra Delacorte stood there with an unreadable expression on her beautiful face. Marina’s heart lodged in her throat, and she almost chickened out.

  “Drew told me about your new job. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” Cassandra said graciously, and Marina couldn’t detect any malice or dislike. Maybe Drew was right and she had moved on. She was about to find out.

 

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