Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)(44)

“Fuck off,” Brent snaps.

“Shut up, Solvenson,” I add.

Nolan laughs at us as he sits down.

Our sniping wakes up Benny. “Hey, what’d I miss?” he asks, yawning.

“Just more eye-f*cking,” Nolan mutters.

Benny turns to me. “What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing,” I say.

When he raises his brows, waiting for elaboration, I shake my head, a plea for him to drop it. Benny, nice guy that he is, does drop it, just as I catch Brent twisting in his seat to shoot Nolan a warning glare.

“Nolan’s such a dick,” I mumble under my breath to Brent.

“Don’t let him get under your skin,” he quietly replies as he turns back around to face the front of the plane.

I don’t think the team as a whole realizes what’s going on between Brent and me. They seem rather oblivious, in fact. Looking around, I notice most of the guys are playing cards with each other or computer games on their phones. Some are simply sleeping. Nolan and Benny know what’s happening, though. They’re too good of friends with Brent to not see what’s up.

Benny has been cool about our predicament, supportive even. I think he secretly wants us to end up together. He’s such a rough and tumble guy, but he’s a true romantic at heart. He really might be great with Lainey. But that’s another relationship that can never happen. I talk to my sister all the time, but still have to be careful to keep all work-related stuff secret.

I sigh and glance back at Nolan. He rolls his eyes at me, so I turn back around.

The whole reason we can’t get along is because of Brent. Nolan views the whole situation with his cool, logical mind. He believes what Brent and I are fighting is simply a lust thing. He thinks if we have sex once and get it out of our systems, we’ll be fine.

He is so wrong. What Brent and I are fighting is much more than that.

Benny, noticing the sad expression on my face, nudges my shoulder. “Hey, are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I say on a sigh. “I’m fine.”

Sensing I need a distraction, he says, “Did you watch the whole game?”

“Of course,” I reply, livening up. “I was seated in the front row, like always.”

He nods approvingly. “Good. Then you saw all the plays down on your end, right?”

“Sure did,” I confirm.

Benny proceeds to whip out a dry-erase board that’s marked with the configuration on the ice. I notice it’s the same kind of board Coach T uses when he’s drawing up plays behind the bench.

Brent, glancing over at us, says to Benny, “Hey, where’d you get that?”

In a hushed tone, Benny says, “Don’t say anything, but I kind of ‘borrowed’ it from Coach. He must have a hundred, so I figured he could spare one.”

Brent laughs. “Don’t worry, man. My lips are sealed.”

And still looking like they’d benefit greatly from a healing Aubrey kiss, I note.

Cut it out! You’re making things worse.

Thankfully, Benny pulls out a marker and that garners my attention. “Okay, Aubrey,” he says, pointing the thing at me. “It’s time to listen up.”

“Okay.” I laugh. “But why do we need the board?”

“You, my little life coach friend, are ready for phase two of your lessons.”

“Which involves what?”

“Drawing up plays on this board to show you how our awesome OPS line really works.”

I smile. “Sounds good to me.”

“So,” Benny continues, “did you happen to see my replay-worthy goal tonight?”

I nod. “Yep, I sure did. It was nice.”

“It was more than nice,” he scoffs. “But let me explain to you why. Did you pick up on how Brent and Nolan set me up for that goal?”

He cocks a brow my way as he marks a LW, a RW, and a C on one side of the ice, indicating his, Nolan’s, and Brent’s left wing, right wing, and center positions at the time of the goal.

“Yes.” I point to the C. “Brent shot the puck over to”—I tap on the RW—“Nolan.”

“Yeah, he did. And then Nolan shot it back to Brent.” Benny draws a line from RW to C. “But if you recall, Brent had no clear lane to the net. There were too many defenders in the way.”

I nod once. “So that’s why he passed the puck over to you.”

“A rather sweet-ass pass it was too,” I hear Brent murmur from across the aisle.

“Dude, let’s not take all the credit.” Benny leans forward to narrow his eyes over at him, but it’s all in good fun. “That puck was on edge when you sent it my way. I’m the one who settled it down and got it in the net.” Leaning back, he smugly adds, “And that, my friend, was clearly my fine skills on display.”

“Pfft, I scored five minutes later, anyway,” Brent counters.

“About the only scoring you’ve been doing lately,” Nolan chimes in.

Brent, ignoring him, reaches down to his bag for his earbuds. That’s when I notice he’s kind of blushing. How cute!

“I think I’ve heard enough,” he mumbles as he sets up his phone to play music and pops the buds in his ears.