Page 2 of Puck Me Twice Over

Cheers erupted in the stands as I peered through colors that weren’t my own, still searching for the same smile I'd missed for the last five years since we broke up.

Where the hell is my head right now?

Answer: it should be here, with my team and the game we just won, but it wasn’t.

Shannon hauled my ass off the ice a second time and back to reality. I skated beside him and Hux to where Coach waited for us all, his customary scowl locked in place.

"Nice work."

I smirked. “Was that a compliment?"

"Do you want punishment laps? Because I can provide them."

I laughed, catching a teddy bear that somebody tossed over the barrier at me. It was branded for the other team that a fan had wrapped in the Chimeras’ colors. I tugged the dark aqua and black scarf tighter around the bear’s neck, then gave its nose a smooch and raised it above my head in celebration. Cameras flashed, and hopefully that bear and me would feature on a media page in the next hour.

Whatever Coach thought up that hurt come next practice, that bear made it all worth everything.

“No thanks, Coach. I'll enjoy this one just fine.”

But I still searched the crowd for the ghost of a girl who would never come to watch me skate.

Not after the way we ended.

A hot shower and clean clothes didn’t do shit for my sense of heartbreak that refused to budge. No win wiped that high school heartbreak level stain away. I dragged my sorry, goal scoring ass packing my kit up, so I was the last one out of the locker room apart from Coach. The man who missed nothing who watched me too closely, his hard eye fixed on my slow ass movements.

“You wanna talk about her?"

I clenched my teeth tight enough for my gums to sting. "Who said it was a her?"

"It's always a her."

"Maybe it's a him." Coach knew I’d had a crush on Hux for years.

A Chimeras’ level crush since before I was drafted. The team knew I swung both ways, but in this case, he was right. That pissed me off more than anything.

Coach stood back as I finally shouldered my bag. The Basilisk branded bear, who still wore its Chimera branded scarf, was tucked away safely inside. Hell, I caught him, so I figured I had claiming rights. “See you at training," I called, finally heading for the door.

Coach coughed as I passed. “Knox. What do I need to know about?"

Suddenly I ached for the cool night outside the musty, man sweat stale air that stained the stadium’s underbelly. “Nothing that will affect how I play next session."

But it did tonight. Nearly.

Coach’s silence as I walked away, leaving him standing alone, told me that my level of bullshit did nothing to appease him.

I didn't get the breath of cold air that I craved when I walked outside the empty stadium. I earned myself a fucking deluge. The sort a man built an ark to avoid. It rained fucking buckets.

And because I was still Mister Nice Hockey Player for tonight, this version of me who attempted not to be a conceited ass all the time, I’d parked a decent distance from the entrance. I figured the team claimed enough perks and my legs were plenty strong. A few extra steps never hurt me.

Tonight, that choice bit my ass in a spectacular fashion. At least no one was around to witness my soggy downfall. Maybe Coach could laugh at my retreat later. If the man had a sense of humor. Someone should ask his wife. She was the only one who knew what the stoic man got up to behind closed doors. There were rumors, though no one I knew dared ask.

My car wasn't the only one left in the parking lot. Coach’s sedan was parked a few spots away from mine, its sleek form less than a mirage through the shimmering haze. A few lanes down, I made out another shadowy form that might be a car or a pick up. It was hard to tell as the clouds offered the slimmest reprieve, then reopened overhead.

Occasionally vehicles were left after fans drank themselves past the legal limit. At least they got away safely if a designated friend took them home then came back to collect sober the next afternoon.

I squinted, making out two figures standing near the blurred vehicle—I thought it was two people. Maybe one. I slowed my jog as raised voices reached me over the pelting rain. Nope, it definitely took two people to argue.

Get inside the pick up, you crazy fuckers.