Clipped by Love
Page 42
“Coach?”
My body vibrates from Jayden’s voice. It’s as low as I remember it and oh so smooth. I can still feel his large hand against my face as his thumb ran along my jaw. It may have been sixty-six days ago, but I still remember everything.
“You are gorgeous, Baylor. Don’t ever forget that.”
Yeah, right. Why the fuck would he say that if he was going to go and reject me not ten minutes later? It makes no sense. He makes no damn sense, and ugh, he makes me mad. Curling my lip, I glare as my dad looks up from his clipboard.
Looking at me twice, confused, he finally looks past me and says, “Sinclair?”
“I usually play with Paily,” he says in a very authoritative way, but my dad is already shaking his head.
“There were a few games where line changes were messed up and you were with Kuntz. It was good, really good, so trust me, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” is Jayden’s response, and I can feel his breath on my neck. It’s warm and fully lethal, or maybe it’s my imagination. I’m not sure, but I need to rein this all back in. He is my teammate; that’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t even have to talk to him. Yup. Nothing, only time I need to talk is when I need the damn puck.
That’s my new plan. It’s a good one, eh?
“You won’t last here,” the guy beside me says then as Dad calls out the other lines and the assistant coach passes out different colored jerseys.
When he hands me my teal jersey before reaching behind me to hand Jayden a dark blue one, I look over at my new friend and smile. “No?”
“Nope, your dad might think you can, hell, you might, but this team is ruthless. We fight for what we want.”
“So do I,” I answer as I drop my stick and gloves, pulling my other jersey off and putting my new one on. “A lot of people doubt me.”
“I know I do.”
“Usually when that happens, I just smile. Because while you’re pushing carts at Target, I’ll be in the NHL, making my dreams come true.”
A few of the guys chuckle around me while the guy holds my gaze. “We’ll see who’s pushing carts, or better yet, who will be making me dinner at night.”
I scoff as I raise an eyebrow. “One, I don’t push carts, I bury pucks. And two, if you think I’d touch you, even for a slimy one-night stand, or better yet make you dinner, you got another thing coming.”
A few guys do that annoying ooooooh noise, and that gets my dad’s attention. “Problem, McCarthy? Moore?”
I shake my head, and we both say, “No, sir.”
He nods. “Good. Put your jersey on, McCarthy.”
I nod as I pick up my gloves and then my stick. When I look back at the guy, he is watching me, his beady black eyes trained on me through his cage. I square my shoulders, hoping to come off pretty badass as the whistle blows.
He then says, “There is only one place for women, and that’s the kitchen, making me a sandwich.”
I go to laugh, but then he is moving, shoulder checking me as he passes. He’s a big guy, and I jerk back, but he doesn’t scare me. He has that small-dick syndrome and he’s all talk. He isn’t even a blip on my radar. Rolling my eyes, I kick off to go to the boards where Dad directed us, but then I hear an oomph and some of the guys laughing. Looking over my shoulder, I see McCarthy lying on his stomach as Jayden looms over him.
“Talk to her like that again, and we are going to have a problem,” he says in a very stone-cold way and then he skates off, passing me like it’s nothing. As I watch his retreating back, I look back at McCarthy as he glares at me.
What the fuck was that?
Looking back at Jayden, I follow him to where our line is lining up as I try to process that. Surely, he isn’t sticking up for me? No way, that’s outrageous. You don’t stick up for the girl you didn’t want. It doesn’t make sense.
Going behind Jace with Reeves behind me, I wait as Dad explains the drill. It’s very basic stuff, and it’s always how he starts off all camps. He does peewee shit first to make sure that everyone knows what they are doing. And the ones who don’t have a one-way ticket to the juniors. Zoning out, I do everything not to look behind me where I know Jayden is leaned up against the boards.
“Baylor, right?”
Looking over my shoulder, I meet a very welcoming smile that is downright contagious, which is probably why I smile back. His skin is the color of chocolate, he has light hazel eyes, and he’s a good seven feet tall. I don’t look up at a lot of guys, but I find my head all the way back as I talk to him. “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.”
“You too. I’m Markus. I’ve seen you play back at the World Juniors.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised by that.
“Yeah, so while some dudes might be douches, I’m glad you’re on the team.”
“Thanks,” I say with a nod before turning to look at the back of Jace’s helmet, but then he is looking back at me. His green eyes are flaming into mine.
“So you can talk to him but not me?”
I shrug. “Nothing to say to you.”
“Hey, it ain’t my fault, okay? We can be friends,” he says, his face so adorable. He’s so cute, it’s kinda hard to glare at him.
Not really.
“No, we can’t,” I say and then I lean in. “Not when your brother is public enemy number one—which, by the way, if you say anything about that, I will murder you. Slowly, with a stick in your butt…unless you are into that kind of thing.”
He laughs as he shakes his head. “Whatever, you’re gonna like me, not try to sodomize me.”
“I don’t like anyone,” I answer with a shrug.
“We will see,” he says before tapping my shin with his stick.
I shake my head since his charm is kind of hard to resist, and he turns right as the whistle blows. Once the drills start, all my nervousness is gone and I’m ready to play. I’m on a winning line. I’ve watched the tapes with Dad, I know that with Jace and Markus, we are going to be a good line. Great even, and once the puck drops, I know that Dad and I were right. We have chemistry off the bat and things are great.
Until Jayden gets involved.
Then all my nervousness is back and shit is going downhill.
Rushing the goal, I send the puck to Jace, who I thought would send to Markus who was waiting by the goal—he could have deflected it in with no problem. But instead, he sends it back to Jayden, who then cuts it hard to me.
My body vibrates from Jayden’s voice. It’s as low as I remember it and oh so smooth. I can still feel his large hand against my face as his thumb ran along my jaw. It may have been sixty-six days ago, but I still remember everything.
“You are gorgeous, Baylor. Don’t ever forget that.”
Yeah, right. Why the fuck would he say that if he was going to go and reject me not ten minutes later? It makes no sense. He makes no damn sense, and ugh, he makes me mad. Curling my lip, I glare as my dad looks up from his clipboard.
Looking at me twice, confused, he finally looks past me and says, “Sinclair?”
“I usually play with Paily,” he says in a very authoritative way, but my dad is already shaking his head.
“There were a few games where line changes were messed up and you were with Kuntz. It was good, really good, so trust me, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” is Jayden’s response, and I can feel his breath on my neck. It’s warm and fully lethal, or maybe it’s my imagination. I’m not sure, but I need to rein this all back in. He is my teammate; that’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t even have to talk to him. Yup. Nothing, only time I need to talk is when I need the damn puck.
That’s my new plan. It’s a good one, eh?
“You won’t last here,” the guy beside me says then as Dad calls out the other lines and the assistant coach passes out different colored jerseys.
When he hands me my teal jersey before reaching behind me to hand Jayden a dark blue one, I look over at my new friend and smile. “No?”
“Nope, your dad might think you can, hell, you might, but this team is ruthless. We fight for what we want.”
“So do I,” I answer as I drop my stick and gloves, pulling my other jersey off and putting my new one on. “A lot of people doubt me.”
“I know I do.”
“Usually when that happens, I just smile. Because while you’re pushing carts at Target, I’ll be in the NHL, making my dreams come true.”
A few of the guys chuckle around me while the guy holds my gaze. “We’ll see who’s pushing carts, or better yet, who will be making me dinner at night.”
I scoff as I raise an eyebrow. “One, I don’t push carts, I bury pucks. And two, if you think I’d touch you, even for a slimy one-night stand, or better yet make you dinner, you got another thing coming.”
A few guys do that annoying ooooooh noise, and that gets my dad’s attention. “Problem, McCarthy? Moore?”
I shake my head, and we both say, “No, sir.”
He nods. “Good. Put your jersey on, McCarthy.”
I nod as I pick up my gloves and then my stick. When I look back at the guy, he is watching me, his beady black eyes trained on me through his cage. I square my shoulders, hoping to come off pretty badass as the whistle blows.
He then says, “There is only one place for women, and that’s the kitchen, making me a sandwich.”
I go to laugh, but then he is moving, shoulder checking me as he passes. He’s a big guy, and I jerk back, but he doesn’t scare me. He has that small-dick syndrome and he’s all talk. He isn’t even a blip on my radar. Rolling my eyes, I kick off to go to the boards where Dad directed us, but then I hear an oomph and some of the guys laughing. Looking over my shoulder, I see McCarthy lying on his stomach as Jayden looms over him.
“Talk to her like that again, and we are going to have a problem,” he says in a very stone-cold way and then he skates off, passing me like it’s nothing. As I watch his retreating back, I look back at McCarthy as he glares at me.
What the fuck was that?
Looking back at Jayden, I follow him to where our line is lining up as I try to process that. Surely, he isn’t sticking up for me? No way, that’s outrageous. You don’t stick up for the girl you didn’t want. It doesn’t make sense.
Going behind Jace with Reeves behind me, I wait as Dad explains the drill. It’s very basic stuff, and it’s always how he starts off all camps. He does peewee shit first to make sure that everyone knows what they are doing. And the ones who don’t have a one-way ticket to the juniors. Zoning out, I do everything not to look behind me where I know Jayden is leaned up against the boards.
“Baylor, right?”
Looking over my shoulder, I meet a very welcoming smile that is downright contagious, which is probably why I smile back. His skin is the color of chocolate, he has light hazel eyes, and he’s a good seven feet tall. I don’t look up at a lot of guys, but I find my head all the way back as I talk to him. “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.”
“You too. I’m Markus. I’ve seen you play back at the World Juniors.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised by that.
“Yeah, so while some dudes might be douches, I’m glad you’re on the team.”
“Thanks,” I say with a nod before turning to look at the back of Jace’s helmet, but then he is looking back at me. His green eyes are flaming into mine.
“So you can talk to him but not me?”
I shrug. “Nothing to say to you.”
“Hey, it ain’t my fault, okay? We can be friends,” he says, his face so adorable. He’s so cute, it’s kinda hard to glare at him.
Not really.
“No, we can’t,” I say and then I lean in. “Not when your brother is public enemy number one—which, by the way, if you say anything about that, I will murder you. Slowly, with a stick in your butt…unless you are into that kind of thing.”
He laughs as he shakes his head. “Whatever, you’re gonna like me, not try to sodomize me.”
“I don’t like anyone,” I answer with a shrug.
“We will see,” he says before tapping my shin with his stick.
I shake my head since his charm is kind of hard to resist, and he turns right as the whistle blows. Once the drills start, all my nervousness is gone and I’m ready to play. I’m on a winning line. I’ve watched the tapes with Dad, I know that with Jace and Markus, we are going to be a good line. Great even, and once the puck drops, I know that Dad and I were right. We have chemistry off the bat and things are great.
Until Jayden gets involved.
Then all my nervousness is back and shit is going downhill.
Rushing the goal, I send the puck to Jace, who I thought would send to Markus who was waiting by the goal—he could have deflected it in with no problem. But instead, he sends it back to Jayden, who then cuts it hard to me.
