Page 42 of The Fake Out

I cringed. “I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

Max’s eyes widened and her cheeks went pink, but Dinah laughed her head off.

I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to look Hal in the eyes again. It was a good guess he knew what Blaise and I had been doing upstairs. Especially after that comment about how he thought he heard me.

“Then what happened?” Max asked.

“I had to rush out for a job interview who didn’t show. Blaise was in a bad mood, though.”

Why did I care? He wasn’t actually my boyfriend. I shouldn’t care if he was upset. But I did. I cared so much. I didn’t like seeing people hurt.

Dinah waved me off. “Eh, shit happens. Don’t worry about it.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I agreed with her.

Chapter Thirteen

BLAISE

I played my game close to an old-school style. I protected the net, blocked shots, and crushed assholes into the boards. I was a stay-at-home defenseman, and while some D-man might find that limiting, I loved being a traditional blueliner. It was also why my stats were mediocre and why I was pretty sure my career was over last summer when the Wolves traded me. I wasn’t a big goal scorer, but I showed up in a big way on the penalty kill.

We had five minutes left in the game, and it was still scoreless. I was annoyed because I wanted to convince Veronica the sport I played for a living was fun and exciting. Then she came to the most boring game of hockey I’d ever played. Okay, maybe that wasn’t true, but the scoreless game was getting annoying.

I shoved my mouthguard back into my mouth and chirped the New York defenseman while Noah took the face-off. I liked playing on the same shift as Noah and TJ. They were both fast and played smart hockey. Smart enough that I did an okay job helping them out with setting up a play or being that big body in front of our net. Right now, I needed to be that so we could kill this penalty and score a goddamn goal.

Noah got possession of the puck out from underneath one of New York’s wingers, and he took it up the ice. TJ was neck-and-neck with him on the ice, and I labored behind them. Man, those two were fast. I needed to be faster if I was going to be successful in this city. If I was going to get this city to root for me and not just see the name on the back of my jersey and think of my dad.

In a flash, the red-lamp lit up behind the New York goalie, and the siren blared. Noah and TJ hugged it out in their typical celebration. Fuck yeah, that’s how we do it.

I skated my ass off for the rest of the shift, and we all left the ice with our heads held high with a 1-0 win. I skated over to our goalie Metzy and gave him a little tap on his helmet. The kid stood on his head tonight.

We walked into the locker room with happy smiles and our victory song playing. I had no idea what it was because one of the rookies picked it, and I was more of a podcast person than a music person. I stripped off my jersey and started taking off my equipment.

“Victory drinks tonight!” TJ cheered.

Noah pulled him down by his jersey so he would calm down. The guy could get a little too excited. “Simmer down. We have to travel tomorrow,” Noah reminded him.

“Okay, Dad!” Benny joked.

“Can it, lightweight!” TJ chirped.

I shook my head.

“Yo, Holmsy, bar tonight?” TJ asked.

I guess Holmsy was my nickname here. God forbid hockey players call each other by their real names.

“Sure. Gotta ask my girl, though,” I said.

“Man, already whipped!” TJ teased.

Noah elbowed him. “Dude, shut it. Let the man be happy.”

“We always end up at Eileen’s,” Riley said.

I groaned. “Can we go anywhere else?”

“Why?” TJ asked. “Isn’t that your dad’s bar?”