Page 33 of Pucked Together

How do I tell him to beat it, fucker...without saying 'beat it, fucker?'

"Hey, you mind if I get an autograph? You're a favorite around here." He pulls a goblet from the top shelf and fishes out a Sharpie from somewhere under the bar top. "Three shutouts last season." He whistles in appreciation.

Fuck, why not?

We need to get going. I go over to him. "Who should I make it out to?"

"Just Justin," he smiles. And the blue in his eyes stands out even in the dim light of the club.

"Right." I look at Izzy, who's watching me with hawk eyes, and I scribble something quickly—finishing it off with my signature before turning back to Izzy.

"Drink up. We got practice."

She glowers at me but sucks on the straw and downs the drink like a pro.

"Thanks for saving my ass, Justin. You've got a loyal customer in me," she says, jumping off the barstool and grabbing her purse and phone.

Oh sure, Justin saved your ass.

"Not a problem. You guys stop by anytime."

We walk towards the exit, but I give a quick glance back just in time to see Justin reading my note on the glass and chuckling to himself.

He got my message.

Good.

"Balsy, where's your head at?" Keelan skates towards me, stopping just short of the goalpost to snow me.

"Try that one more time, Landry, and you won't have legs to skate on."

"Calm down, Hulk. And hey, you're the one on thin ice, man. Why don't you tell me why my sister was naked in your bed this morning." He hits my helmet with the end of his stick.

"I told you nothing happened, Kee. And I'm not the one you need to be checking today."

Just as the words come out of my mouth, Trevor Sincaid jumps the boards and makes his way to center ice.

He's been practicing with us for weeks. But nobody knew he was Izzy's ex. A detail Keelan said he wishes he had known before he befriended the asshole.

"We're not done talking about this," Keelan points his stick at me in warning before skating over to Sincaid.

Hicks comes over to me and raises a bushy eyebrow. "So...Landry's sister. Kinda weird, don't you think?"

"Fuck off, Hicks."

"Hey, I get it. The girl's got a bangin' body. Pretty face. And clearly, she's got a thing for players. So how was she?"

"Hicks, I swear to god."

"What? That good, huh?"

Before I can think, I lunge forward, shouldering him and sending him flying on his ass across the ice. At that exact moment, Keelan and Sincaid throw punches on the other side of the ice. Our teammates all stop in their tracks, their heads swiveling from one side of the rink to the other.

A whistle blasts from the team bench. "What the hell is going on here?" Coach's eyes are shooting fire.

Fergie looks over at me with wide eyes.

"Hicks, Balinger, off the ice!" He shouts. "Landry and Sincaid, you too."