And I’d spent the last few hours trying to stay focused on the game, and not on how it had felt to have my hands on her.
I blinked back to the present just in time to hop the boards and skate out onto the ice with my line. We played hard, not letting up even when the score told us we could. We wanted this team and the rest in our conference to hear our message loud and clear.
Tampa is the team to beat, and we won’t make it easy to do so.
Sweat dripped into my eyes as the last buzzer sounded, and the crowd cheered so loud the stadium shook with the sound of it. Then, a flurry of stuffed animal fishes of all kinds rained down on us.
We had to watch where we were skating to dodge the toys as we took our victory laps, but none of us minded. It was tradition, one that had been around for decades. The fish were a sacrifice to the Osprey, our mascot. When the tradition started, they had thrown actual fish. Of course, that had been a smelly, disgusting, and rather inhumane practice that quickly turned into what it was now. A rainbow of color filled the ice just like a hat trick did, and at the end of it all, every toy would be donated to local shelters and families in need.
We took our time on our victory lap, and not a single fan moved from their seats as we went back into the locker room. Minutes later, the three stars of the team were announced.
I was one of them.
I skated a lap with the lights flashing and the crowd chanting my name, and I searched for a kid to give my puck to. When I spotted a familiar face by the glass at center ice, I grinned.
The Machine.
I skated over to him, and he jumped up and down more excitedly when he realized I’d spotted him. He tugged on his mom’s jersey, and she only laughed and thanked me with a sweet smile and tilt of her head.
Instead of tossing the puck up over the glass like I usually did, I nodded toward security and motioned for them to find a way to get him on the ice. When they did, I pulled him up onto my shoulders, handing him the puck and letting him celebrate like the victory was his as we skated another lap with the other stars.
When the celebrations were done, I bent to let him down and rejoin his family, and I turned to find Maven watching me from the bench. I cocked a brow, silently asking what she thought.
She smiled, something light and soft about her for just a moment. But then, she scrunched her face up and waved her flat palm side to side, as if to say, Meh, it was alright.
I scrubbed a hand over my smile at that.
Back in the locker room, the celebrations continued, my teammates stripping their clothes off and chugging beer as the DJ played our win song loudly through the speakers.
“Great job out there,” Coach McCabe said when we were all gathered. “It was a rough first period, but you found your groove in the second, and if we keep playing like that, we’ll have the trophy in our hands by the end of the season.”
We roared our agreement.
“Have fun tonight, but be smart,” he warned. His expression was severe for only a moment before he grinned, and we all cheered and whistled as he shook his head and left us be.
He knew as well as we did that tonight was going to be lit as fuck.
“Let’s fucking party!” Jaxson belted out once Coach had ducked out of the room, and the team responded by beating on the lockers and dancing as if we’d already won the championship.
I joined in, grabbing my jersey at opposite ends and threading it between my legs as I thrust my hips in a ridiculous dance. I whipped it overhead like a helicopter next before sending it flying into the team laundry basket.
It soared right by Maven’s head on the way, and she caught the whole thing on camera.
I hopped down from where I’d been on a bench, slowly making my way toward her. Where I was a sweaty, smelly mess, she was just as pristine as she had been standing in my doorway hours ago. I noted the freckles on her cheeks the closer I got, loving that I could see them even through her makeup.
“Well, did I give you enough content tonight?”
“Indeed, you did,” she answered on a smile. “I just have one question.”
“Shoot.”
“What’s with the fish?”
“Sacrificing to the Osprey!” Carter answered for me, slinging his arm around Maven. She grimaced a bit at how sweaty he was, but didn’t pull away. “It’s tradition after a win.”
“You know what else is tradition,” Jaxson said, waggling his brows as he sidled up next to me. “Boomer’s.”
“And Boomer Bunnies,” Carter added with his own salacious grin.
“Shut up, Fabio. We all know bunnies don’t come for your rookie ass,” one of our defensemen chided. Dimitri Volkov. He was Russian, an older vet, his accent thick and his tolerance for bullshit somewhere around Daddy P’s. I loved him, though, because he was essentially like having a second goalie. The man was a weapon, one I was glad to have on my team.
Carter flicked him off.
“Boomer Bunnies?” Maven asked carefully.
“Boomer’s is the bar we go to after a win,” Brittzy explained. “And let’s just say, there are some very attractive women in the area who are well aware of that fact.”
“They’re also aware of how fat your pockets are,” Daddy P grumbled from the bench. “You’re a fool if you mistake it for anything else.”
“Some of them are nice,” Carter defended.
“Just because one of them let you poke her in the butt doesn’t mean she’s Miss America, Fabio.”
The words shot out of Jaxson like a barrel, and we all burst into a fit of laughter as Carter shamefully took his arm from around Maven. He sulked for a moment before punching Jaxson in the arm.
“Um… she let you… what?” Maven asked.
Carter’s face flamed a furious red.
“Carter here was a virgin the first night we all went out,” Jaxson explained, all too happy to fill in the blanks. “And a couple teammates took some bunnies home, a few of them excited to… play.” He grinned.
“One of them told Carter he could put it anywhere,” I said. Maven’s eyes doubled in size when her gaze snapped to mine, and I loved it. I loved seeing her squirm, watching her reaction to that little tidbit.
It made me wonder what she was thinking, if she was disgusted by the thought, or maybe, just maybe, a little turned on.
“And you… you chose…” Maven slowly turned to Carter again, who threw his hands up like he’d had no other choice.
“I just figured I wouldn’t get that offer as much in my lifetime!”
My stomach hurt from laughing so hard with the rest of the crew in that corner of the locker room, and even Maven cracked a smile, shaking her head.
“Please, don’t post that,” Carter said, sobering up.
“Your virgin escapades aren’t exactly the content we’re going for, Fabio,” Maven shot back just as quick.
“Hey, I’m not a virgin anymore.”
“Does it count if it’s just the ass?” Maven asked.
That made us all laugh harder.
Maven felt like one of us already.
“Alright, twat lickers,” one of our veterans called. Shane Lomberg, a left-winger who was also the first of us to fight when necessary. “Shower your smelly asses, and let’s get this party started.”