“That wasn’t slashing,” I mutter, however it’s a moot level as a result of…it fucking was.

In a huff, I make my solution to the penalty field to serve my time. I rip off my helmet and fling it down, then stew, doing nothing, not a rattling factor, as the opposite crew scores the primary purpose, whipping the puck previous Gavin, Rhys, after which Dev. “Fuck me,” I grumble, flinging up my arms.

Close to the tip of the interval I’m again on the market once more, able to put one thing on the scoreboard.

The sport’s a chippy one, bodily and imply, and I’m going to be sore tomorrow, however I don’t care after I snag the puck then fly on a breakaway, sending it screaming towards the goalie.

However he stops it together with his leg.

I curse. I missed a straightforward shot.

After I hit the bench as soon as extra, I slam the stick towards the ground.

“Bouchard, let it go. Let it fucking go,” Stefan says, his tone agency and brooking no argument.

What’s incorrect with me? I’m not the man who will get indignant in a sport. I’m the easygoing man, even on the bench. I play onerous, however I’ve enjoyable. I work with my teammates, not towards them.

I seize my water bottle, chug some, then attempt to shake off my funk.

Deep into the second interval, my blades lower by way of the ice as I attempt to sync up with my crew, decided to atone for my earlier errors. The noise of the followers is deafening, the boos in some way even louder. Most nights, the din unusually quiets my ideas. Tonight, the noise amplifies them. As I hunt for the puck, I’m questioning if Briar is watching again residence. If she’s cheering. If she’s lacking us too.

When Rhys slips the puck to me, I miss it.

Chicago doesn’t although. Their gamers are relentless, their skates and sticks whipping round just like the claws of a pack of untamed animals taking us down.

On the finish of the sport, the horn blares and we’ve misplaced.

It’s my fault.

I don’t discuss to anybody on the short flight to Detroit on the crew airplane. Or within the resort foyer. Or the elevator.

After I attain my room somewhat earlier than eleven, I name my mother.

Her voice is sympathetic. “Hey there. Robust sport.”

“I do know.”

“Have been you elsewhere?”

How does she know? “It was that apparent?” I ask, tugging at my tie, tossing it down on the sofa.

“You don’t normally play mad. Solely when issues aren’t fairly proper in your life.”

It’s that apparent. “There’s a lady,” I admit.

“Yeah?” She brightens.

“It’s difficult.”

“It at all times is. Have you ever talked to her?”

No. However perhaps I ought to. After I say goodbye, I hit Briar’s quantity.

60

TELEPHONE TAG

Briar

Supply: www.seynovel.com


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