Kent was such a good guy. She could see herself being with a guy like him seriously. He was kind and compassionate and good looking and everything she wanted in a man.
But he wasn’t Knox.
No one was Knox.
And that was what made her hate herself even more than everything else.
Why did she still want him even after everything? She should know better. She should be smarter than this.
But she wasn’t.
Because, deep down, she still wanted Knox. As much as she liked Kent, he would never be able to replace Knox.
She wished he would stop trying to look at her. He needed to focus. And why was he even looking at her in the first place? What was his problem with that? The game was going to start ten minutes after the warm-up, and the last thing he needed was to be looking at her instead of the puck - or whatever else he needed to do to ensure a win. How was Seraphina Hanson going to notice how good he was and bring him up to play in the NHL with the Gulls?
Not that Knox cared about that - which bothered her.
Shouldn’t that matter to him? Shouldn’t his ambition be to get to the NHL? He seemed content where he was, even though he had the opportunity to be even better? Granted, she wasn’t a hockey player. Maybe it was okay to be content with just being an AHLer. Maybe that was okay - as long as that was what he wanted. She just didn’t want him to throw away a good opportunity to showcase his skills because he was too distracted by her for some reason.
The loud buzzer sounded overhead, indicating warmups were finished. The skaters all took their last shots at the open net.
Beth still didn’t look at him. Her heart squeezed with guilt but she couldn’t be bothered to worry about it. Hopefully he would understand he needed to get his head out of his ass and do something about the play.
Maybe she was being unfair. Maybe she should look at him so he knew that she wasn’t mad. Maybe that was what he was looking for from her, some reassurance that their relationship was okay.
But was it?
She blew out a breath and glanced at the overhead television screen. There was a small timer, counting down to the start of the game. Ten minutes suddenly felt ridiculously long, even with all the hockey related ads playing on the screen and the zambonis coming out and sweeping the ice.
She crossed her arms over her chest, wondering if maybe she should grab a snack before the game started. It gave her something to do rather than just sit here and think about Knox, about what had happened between them. And she really did need to clear her head.
Then again, the food here was ridiculously expensive, the lines weren’t worth standing in, and she didn’t want to deal with the people idling outside the rink, hanging out in their clusters of friends and hogging up the hallway.
Which meant staying put.
She tried to watch the advertisements. Most of it was local businesses. Other clips were recaps of what was going on in the rest of the league. Then, a lineup flashed on screen. Knox’s smiling face looked down at her, causing her heart to skip a beat. So, his line would be starting then. It didn’t surprise her. Sometimes, the coach liked to rest his first and second lines just to see how the other team played so he could prepare more accurately.
Beth couldn’t help but stare up at it. Her chest tightened, and for a moment, she forgot what it felt like to actively breathe. It was easy to forget how beautiful he was, especially when she was mad at him, but his official photo reminded her of it. He was one of the few players that actually smiled in the photograph. It was a genuine, I’m-happy-to-be-here smile, with that boyish sparkle lighting up his dark eyes and the dimple popping out in his cheek.
Jesus Christ, he was beautiful. He stole her breath and made her feel like everything was going to be okay.
Fuck.
She wasn’t supposed to be feeling that for him. She was supposed to be feeling that for the guy next to him - Kent Cavile. His lips were curved up, but his smile was more reserved, his blue eyes somewhat guarded. And Beth understood. She understood why that was. But she was drawn to Knox and his open vulnerability. To his ridiculous laughter and his childish ways. It was magnetizing.
And suddenly, the pictures were gone, and they were advertising some sort of golf course.
Beth could breathe again - which was ridiculous. All of these feelings inside of her made her feel like she was that teenage girl with that obsessive crush. She had already experienced that back in high school. It didn’t seem particularly fair that she had to experience it again for the same person, especially considering she had a guy who was older, more mature, and actually liked her.
Knox likes you. He wouldn’t have kissed you like that if he didn’t.
Beth wasn’t so sure about that. Part of her wanted to believe it - she did - but another part of her only thought he had done that out of a reaction to her and Kent. It wasn’t because he wanted her, he just didn’t want her to be with anyone else. Of course, this caused her chest to squeeze and settle and squeeze again. It hurt her to think that if that were true, Knox had no problem playing with her emotions out of some base instinct to keep her as his - but not in the way she wanted him. And that didn’t seem fair.
She shifted in her seat. She wished Seraphina Hanson would invest in more comfortable chairs. Even if this was a minor league team, she had season ticket holders who sat here every game night. There had to be a way to get some padding or something.
Pulling out her phone, she began to flip through her checklist of everything she had to do for class the next day. Beth didn’t like to admit it, but she liked doing homework early just so she wouldn’t have to worry about it during the week. The only exception was when Knox traveled for hockey. Sometimes she would study with the guys while they streamed his away game on Brandon’s shitty internet connection. The guy preferred nature to everything else, hence the fact that the guy had millions and lived in a shitty apartment just so he could be right on the bench and surf whenever he wanted to without driving anywhere. Granted, he could have bought a house in Newport with its own private access to the beach, but he seemed most at home here. And honestly, Beth didn’t mind doing homework at Brandon’s. The guys gave her the space to finish before they started pestering her about stupid shit.
The truth was, she didn’t mind their stupid shit. She kind of liked it. Sure, they acted like boys, but she trusted them and she knew they’d be there for her no matter what.
The announcer introduced the referees under a rain of boos bellowed down. Beth bit back a smile. Part of her felt sorry for them, but part of it was tradition. NHL referees were notorious for either being really good or really shit, and no one knew what to expect.
Once they skated out, the announcer introduced both teams out. Beth felt herself standing and cheering, even as she saw Knox skate over at the team’s section of the ice. Even as he glanced at her as he skated - something he tended not to do because he was focused. Because he had a game to win.
Beth tried not to think about it. Tried not to look at him as he lined up on the blue line across the ice from her. It didn’t have to mean anything.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, please stand and remove your hats as we welcome Dawn Hunington from Tustin to sing the national anthem,” the announcer bellowed.
Beth was proud to see everyone in the stands did as he instructed them, standing up and facing towards the west part of the stadium where a picture of the flag waved. Her mouth moved to the words that flashed on screen. The singer had a deep, bell-like voice that boomed across the stadium. When she hit the crescendo, Beth’s body erupted in goosebumps, and the cheer that followed vibrated through the rink.
Everyone sat back down. The players skated again around their zone, warming themselves up, before positioning themselves at puck drop.
Beth’s eyes followed Knox. She didn’t want to. She wanted to look at Kent, at the way he took the faceoff, but there was something about the way Knox skated, the way he played, and she couldn’t take her
eyes off of him if she tried.
Which, honestly, wasn’t fair.
The game started. The buzzer sounded. The crowd collectively leaned forward, watching the players scatter into position, watched the slippery puck as it began to get slapped from one stick to another. And yet, all Beth could think about was Knox, was his lips on hers, was the way her body shuddered at the touch.
She wasn’t sure if it meant anything.
No, scratch that.
It had to mean something.
But she didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
Was the friendship ruined? Could they move forward? Could they pretend the kisses - plural - never happened?
She didn’t know.
But if it meant Knox would stay her friend, stay in her life, she would. She’d rather have him as just a friend than nothing at all.
However, if she was being honest, she’d rather have him as her man in an ideal world. She just didn’t think that was possible.
15
Knox
The game was a blur for Knox.
This never happened.
He was always all-in during his games. There could be a damn earthquake that could split the rink in two and he wouldn’t notice it until after the last buzzer blew. And he liked that. His focus was one of his defining attributes. That, and his skating. His tenacity. His willingness to get in front of the crease and take a beating as he tried to position himself to shield the opposing goalie or get a rebound. Sometimes he was lucky and the puck would deflect off his body and hit the net too.
But he didn’t focus on anything at all except the blonde at the glass, watching.
He could tell when her eyes found Kent’s. Her face softened, her eyes were less jagged edges and more green grass, and there was a small smile on her face.
A smile that was usually reserved for him.
And he fucking hated it.
If Kent had been on the opposing team, Knox would have looked for any damn reason to fight with him. Even though he knew he was lean and tall, without that muscle mass the other players had, Knox didn’t give a shit. He wanted to fight, wanted to feel the satisfying crunch of Kent’s face underneath his fist.
Knox didn’t like Kent, didn’t like that Kent and Beth had gone out. He didn’t know what else happened. Part of him didn’t want to know because that would only piss him off even more.
The problem was, because his focus was elsewhere, Knox couldn’t seem to keep the puck on his stick, couldn’t seem to use his talented hands and stick handle to save his life. Maybe it was the clinging effects of the hangover but everything felt harder than it should have been.
“What the fuck, Knox?” Coach demanded, the second Knox got off the ice and plopped onto the bench. “Get your head out of your ass or you’re sitting next shift.”
Knox knew he wasn’t kidding, either. He rubbed his face, sweat pouring off of him, matting his hair under the helmets. Someone tossed him a Gatorade-lined towel, and he wiped his face, even under the visor he wore to protect his eyes.
He knew why he wasn’t playing well. It was the girl across the ice, constantly crossing her legs from one foot to the other, unable to sit still. Something was on her mind. That was the only reason why she couldn’t sit still.
But she wouldn’t look at him, and it was driving him crazy. He didn’t even know why he cared one way or the other. His focus should be on the game. It always had. Hell, the game had always been his reprieve from the world. He could always count on hockey to suck him away from his problems, distract him until he worked through his shit and could focus on his problems appropriately.
Except, apparently that wasn’t happening here.
Goddammit.
It wasn’t long before he hopped over the bench and got back on the ice.
Why wouldn’t Beth look at him? That was his problem, if he was being honest. Why couldn’t she catch his eye, give him one of her smiles that always seemed to sneak past everything else and bury itself deep into his heart.
Not that he noticed that last part.
Well, if he was being honest with himself, then yes, he did.
Fuck.
This was not where he needed to work out his problems.
Or maybe it was.
When he was a kid, after a thorough hockey game where he was breathless and sweaty, his problems stepping on the ice were always gone by the time he stepped off the ice. Some people worked out their issues in the shower; he did it on the ice, but not consciously. Forgetting about everything typically showed him that the problem itself wasn’t as big as he initially believed it to be, and the tension disappeared enough where he could figure shit out.
Except, he didn’t think that this was going to be the same.
It couldn’t be.
He blew out a breath and hopped over the bench, touching the ice again. His shifts were short and intense. The score was still zero to zero, and it was a few minutes until the end of the second period. He touched the puck maybe three times in this period, which wasn’t like him. It was no wonder why the coach was pissed at him. And if he didn’t get out there and make up for his shit, he knew he’d be sitting on the bench.
“Hey, man,” Kent said, skating over to Knox as they began to line up for a puck drop. The other team lifted it high and the puck hit the net overhead, protecting spectators from flying pucks, which meant the game was out of play. “You good?”
Knox grunted. He didn’t bother to respond. The truth of the matter was, no, he wasn’t good, and part of it had to do with Kent himself.
Why the fuck had he asked Beth out on a date? Yes, she was pretty in that innocent, girl next door way about her. Yes, she was sweet. But Kent didn’t know her. Not like Knox did. What right did Kent have to ask her out on a date in the first place?
Knox shook his head, hunching forward and preparing for the faceoff. Kent stood in the circle, stick horizontal, until the linesman nodded, indicating they could touch their sticks on the ice and prepare for the puck drop. He glanced over at Knox, then Gabe, and then nodded, getting ready.
The linesman blew his whistle and dropped the puck at the center, close to the Mayhem’s goalie. Kent won the faceoff easily, using his stick to drag the puck back. Knox immediately scooped it up and skated behind his net. Once he was on the other side, he passed it up long.
Probably wasn’t the best call.
Any one of the opponents could have swept in and grabbed the puck. He should have skated it out of the zone and dumped it in their zone so he could get off for the change.
But he made his choice, and it seemed to work out. The Dragons didn’t gobble up the puck, and one of his own teammates - Anderson - managed to pick it up in the neutral zone.
Knox turned on his legs, skating as quickly as he could to offer support. Anderson had two defensemen that would try to get the puck away from him. As it was, he was already directed to the outer part of the ice simply from where the defensemen positioned themselves. Knox found himself in the goalie’s crease, waiting for an opportunity to shoot the puck or screen the goalie. He knew he would take a beating. Already, the Dragons’ goalie used his stick to crosscheck him away from the crease, but the referees didn’t seem to pay much attention to what was going on in front of the net. Knox skated back, trying to use his weight as a tool, to keep himself from getting thrown out of position again.
And then, there it was: the cross-ice pass. The goalie’s stick pushed into his back again, but Knox held it together, using his core to keep his balance. He just needed to collect the puck and turn...Shoot…
Except, his stick snapped and he fanned on the shot.
“Mother fucker!” Knox exclaimed.
The goalie snickered as he used his stick and pushed it to the side of the ice where one of the defensemen swooped in and started to skate up ice.
Knox knew he couldn’t stare and curse. He had to get back in the game. He turned on the intensity, the speed, of his skating. However, the defenseman du
mped the puck, one of the forwards collected it behind the net. He passed a crisp puck to another teammate to the right who passed it to the point. The defenseman on point shot hard at the net, but Knox’s teammate deflected it - right in front of the net where a Dragon forward shot it and scored.
Fuck.
That was a direct result in his fuck up.
He skated back to the bench and hopped over. After taking his seat on the bench, he shook his head, trying not to play that scene in his head over and over again. He clenched his teeth together, muttering to himself. He didn’t even know what the hell he was saying. He just knew he was pissed, knew he couldn’t stand himself right now.
What the fuck was going on with him anyway? Why was he playing like such shit? And why did this have to do with Beth?
Kent reached out and tapped Knox on the shoulder. “Shake it off,” he said. “We’ll get it back.”
Knox snapped his head in Kent’s direction, but Kent was watching the play unfurl. Knox could give two shits right now. All he cared about was the fact that Kent thought he had any right to talk to him at all. Because, at the end of the day, this was his fault. He was the one who asked Beth. He was the one who came in and changed everything.
And that pissed Knox off more than anything. Without Kent, things would be the same. And that was what he wanted, right?
He dropped his head. Fuck if he knew. He didn’t regret kissing Beth. Fuck that. But now that he knew what that felt like, how in the hell could anyone expect him to forget that? How could he not want to do it again? And how could he not get furious at the thought of her kissing someone else?
Fuck.
He shouldn’t even be thinking about that shit. Not now. Not during a fucking game.
What the hell was wrong with him anyway?
He glanced over his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he could see her sitting in her usual seat. Her eyes were focused on the ice, watching the game unfold. At least she wasn’t looking at him. He knew he’d see the questions in her eyes, knew she’d know he wasn’t playing up to his potential. Though, in his defense, it wasn’t for lack of trying.
Rookies Hit It Better Page 9
