Iced Out: A Rival’s Sister Hockey Romance (Heston U Hotshots Book 1)
Iced Out: A Rival’s Sister Hockey Romance – Chapter 20

When I arrive at the arena for Saturday night’s home game, I feel unstoppable. We fought hard with UMass at yesterday’s away game and came out on top when Elijah scored the winning goal with a beautiful wrister. Tonight we’re playing against them again and I already taste victory.

Noah’s waiting at the bottom of the steps outside the back entrance to the locker and equipment area, phone at the ready. I smirk, smoothing a hand down my tie.

“Captain arriving an hour and forty-five minutes early before game time, that’s what we like to see,” he says. “Strut it, East. That suit looks sharp on you. People go nuts when I post the team’s arrival looks.”

Giving a salute with my sticks, I start down the steps. As I reach the bottom, I hear girls cheering. I spot Maya hanging out with Reeves and her friend from work nearby. He nods with his chin.

My attention locks on Maya. I’ve been waiting all day to see her. She looks cute as hell wearing a navy crewneck with Heston U Hockey emblazoned across the chest, and has her hair pulled half up in two sections of braided pigtails. Her cheeks are painted with #24 inside green hearts, making me break out in a slow smile.

A smug chuckle leaves me when she stares at me in a suit like a slab of meat. She steps into my embrace when I open my arms.

“You’re here.” My gaze dips to her sweatshirt again. “Still not wearing my jersey. At least it’s the right team colors this time. You’re also early.”

“There was a free cookie on the line,” she says. “Clocktower Brew House has a tent set up in front of the arena. We had to show our school spirit to get them.”

I open my mouth and she gives me the last small bite. Then I have to kiss her pretty grin.

“Mm, tastes sweet. You like the suit?”

Her lashes flutter and she tries to fight a smile. “Um, that would be a yes. Definitely.”

“More reasons for you to come to my games.” I waggle my brows. “Are you going to be warm enough? I still have time to get you one of my alternate jerseys to wear over that.”

“God, I almost forgot how needy hockey players are as boyfriends,” she sasses, dropping her voice in imitation. “My girlfriend has to go to my games, wear my jersey, chant my name—”

Grinning, I swallow her words when I capture her mouth for another kiss. She keeps mumbling against my lips until she melts into it, wrapping her arms around my waist. I could kiss her like this all day.

“I wouldn’t complain about any of that, but I only want it if you want it.”

Her gaze flickers between mine. “I know.”

“Good.” I touch her cheek, carefully grazing the face paint with my number, then bring my lips to her ear. “Scream my name nice and loud for me, baby.”

She shivers, peering up through her lashes with a look I love seeing in her gorgeous hazel eyes.

“Good luck, captain.”

My chest expands, filled with a sensation that’s soft and warm. A happy laugh slips out of me.

“Thanks. Have fun tonight. When we’re done, I’ll meet you back here and we can all head to The Landmark together.”

“Okay.”

She presses on her toes to claim one more kiss, and I’m not about to deny her. I don’t think there’s anything I’ll ever be able to deny her.

Hiking my gear bag higher on my shoulder, I back away in the direction of the player entrance, keeping her in view for as long as I can.

“Where’s my good luck, captain? You gonna give me a kiss, too?” Cam falls into step with me, elbowing my side.

I return it with a smirk. We both snicker. He can give me shit for being all sappy now that I have a girlfriend. It does nothing to conquer the way being with her makes me feel.

We pass the open door to the coachs’ office on our way to the locker rooms. Neil Cannon is talking with Coach Lombard. They pause their conversation and he lifts his coffee in greeting.

“Give ‘em hell tonight, boys,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” I say.

My mood only gets better gearing up in the locker room. The guys joke around until it’s time to get in the zone as game time approaches. The coaches go over our best plays and the weak moments we need to tighten up from playing against UMass last night.

I stand in the middle of the locker room, surveying my team. “We’re entering that rink ahead tonight.”

“Hell yeah,” Manning whoops.

“We’re going to leave the ice as winners,” I continue. “UMass passed on me and half of you in this locker room. They didn’t see what Lombard and all of Heston know. We’re a team of the best damn talent in Hockey East.”

When I finish, the room erupts in a ruckus of cheers and whistles. We leave the locker room unified and fired up to take the win tonight.

During warm-ups, I replace Maya in the crowd. Do I show off for her?

Of fucking course I do.

I’m glad I scored her rinkside seats. This time she’s here for me, not her brother.

After they’re over, I gather at the bench with the guys until the ice is cleared of loose pucks. My gaze doesn’t leave her during the opening before puck drop. One by one, our names are called by the game announcer to introduce us to the arena.

“Introducing tonight’s lineup. For the Heston University Knights, in goal, number thirty-three, Cameron Reeves.”

Cameron skates to the blue line, waving as the crowd showers him with support for their goaltender.

“At left wing, number sixteen, Daniel Hutchinson.”

Hutch zooms to the line like his ass is on fire.

“At right wing, number fourteen, Theo Boucher.”

Theo joins them while the crowd chants his nickname.

“On defense, number forty-five, Noah Porter.”

Noah flirts with the crowd, skating in a meandering zigzag to reach the boys. Reeves pretends to swoon, leaning against Boucher to catch him. The crowd eats it up.

“Also on defense, number forty-seven, Jake Brody.”

Brody takes off, inspiring a burst of high-pitched screams from girls at the swagger in his stop.

“And at center, your team captain. Number twenty-four, Easton Blake,” the announcer finishes, energetically hyping up my name.

The crowd cheers, but it’s Maya who has me grinning as I skate towards my teammates at the blue line. She cups her hands around her mouth.

It might be my imagination, but I swear I hear her scream my name as I send snow flying when I stop on the edge of my blades to join my linemates.

I exchange looks with the guys. “Let’s fucking go.”

They echo my sentiment, tapping gloves before it’s time to take our starting positions.

Once the game begins, the pace moves lightning quick. We can feel UMass’ desperation to put up points and come out of this on top, but we’re not letting that happen.

By the end of first period, the air is tinged with their rashness. Coach directs us to stay focused on keeping our pace steady.

In the middle of the second, they’re getting sloppy trying to rush this. We take advantage, pressing their players hard when they make mistakes. We’re the first to score on them and it’s only making them play more wildly.

Early in the third period while I’m on the bench, McKinley moves with the puck. One of the defenders slams into him to steal it. He takes the hit, then shakes out his wrist when UMass goes for the breakaway once they have the puck. He’s having trouble, lagging while our guys chase down our opponents to stop the play.

“Coach,” I say.

“Go.”

I surge over the boards. “McKinley!”

Jack hears me, heading for the bench as I switch in for him. Our D-men shut down any play UMass tries to get through their wall. Nick Briggs pries the puck away from one of the forwards and barrels his way through.

Noah gets to an open spot, taking it when three UMass players converge on Briggs. He moves the puck across the red line and passes to Madden.

“Go! Let’s make it happen!” I yell.

Madden has a zippy UMass guy on his ass. It screws up the shot he sets up, sending him on a goose chase to outskate him.

“Here, here!” I move into position to receive the puck.

He sends it so fast, I catch it off my blade to control it. Then I’m off, racing to attack.

When the game moves fast, you have to be faster. Not only to see what’s going on, but to be two steps ahead of the other guys.

Being able to read the ice in a matter of seconds while the pressure is on is where I excel. I replace my opening. The sound when I slap the puck is pure fucking magic.

Once it’s in the net, I search the crowd for Maya’s face in the section where she’s sitting.

“Hell yeah, man! That was a damn beauty,” Noah says.

“Buy me two minutes,” I say in a rush when he collides into me for a celebratory hug.

“On it.”

He heads for our equipment manager, holding up his stick to change it out before the next play starts. A couple of our teammates switch out.

It gives me just enough time to reach Maya’s section. She goes from clapping and smiling with excitement to gaping at me when I wave at her.

Everyone around her in Heston’s student section gets hyped, chanting my name. She swings her gaze around, wide-eyed. I point at UMass’ net, then at her, mouth stretching in a broad grin as it dawns on her what I’m doing.

“Oh my god.” Her words are barely audible, muffled by the noises surrounding us, but I make them out by reading her plush lips.

She hides her face, shoulders trembling with laughter. Her friend nudges her while I wait.

The clock won’t start again until the puck drops. I don’t have much time, and I’m risking a penalty if I delay the game. The ref gives me a warning to get my ass in gear with a pointed blow of his whistle, but I’m not moving until she knows.

I tap on the glass with my glove. “Maya! Come on, baby. Look up for me. It’s important.”

At last she drops her hands and meets my eyes. Her embarrassed exasperation is cute as hell.

I lean closer, my helmet resting against the plexiglass as I mouth that was for you. She gives me a slow smile, shaking her head wryly. I nod, blowing her a kiss that makes her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink.

The fans in the section shout at her in encouragement. When she stands to press her palm to the glass where my glove is, they go wild, erupting in frenzied cheers.

With a cocksure grin and a wink, I push away from the boards. The ref gives me a flat look when I scrape to a stop at center ice.

“Finished with your girlfriend?” UMass’ center sneers.

The corner of my mouth lifts as I sink into position to face off with him. “You wish. I’ll never be done with her. Now, are we ready to play some hockey, princess? Or do you guys plan to skate around with your dicks in your hands some more?”

His outraged growl is hilarious. I smirk, adjusting my grip on my stick, ready for the puck to hit the ice.

It feels damn good when I win the face-off against him.

Even better when we take the W for this game.

And knowing Maya will be waiting for me after she watched me play?

Sweet fucking victory.