Overtime(120)

“So I have a list on me?”

Benji grinned as he shrugged. “Yeah, and you made the cut.”

Jordie shot him back a grin as he reached for the pen. Looking up to see if Benji was watching him, he found that he wasn’t. He was watching TV, and when Jordie looked back down, he sucked in a breath.

He could do this. His pencil shook as he wrote, but even he didn’t believe what he wrote. Or at least he thought the reasons meant enough to go through the pain she put him through.

I love her.

She gave me life.

Staring at the piece of the paper, he smacked his pen to it and shook his head. He couldn’t come up with a three. Staring at the paper, he read one and two again, and then slowly crossed out one. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t. She gave him no reason to love her. Before, he’d told himself it was love. But really, that was because he was a kid and she was all he knew. He didn’t have a dad, didn’t have someone who could show him love. But then he met Karson, his family, and ultimately, Kacey.

Because of them, he knew real love—true, undeniable love.

The kind of love that people die for.

And Stacey Thomas did not deserve that love.

Especially not from him.





Holding the puck behind the Stars’ net, Jordie looked to Karson, who was watching with him, waiting for the puck. An offenseman was waiting for him to go but, acting as if he was going to pass it, he deked it to the other side, going around the net, sending it hard up to Erik who was waiting at the line. As he carried it into the zone, Jordie skated hard to catch up, crossing the blue line with Karson. As Karson shot, it was knocked away. Anderson and Titov fought for it in the corner as Baylor waited in the slot. Finally getting it out, Erik shot it over to Karson, who took the shot. But it was quickly rebounded right to Baylor. She had no shot, but Jordie would. She sent it back to Jordie, he deked around two offensemen, but just as he was about to shoot, a defenseman tripped him, the puck hitting the goalie’s shoulder as Jordie went face first into the goal, the post smacking him right between his neck and shoulder. Looking up, he groaned.

Fuck. It didn’t go in.

Pain shot down his shoulder, his neck throbbing as he got up slowly, and Karson came to make sure he was okay. He could hear Coach screaming, even Erik, and when he realized the whistle was blown for a penalty against him for high-sticking the dick that tripped him, he was screaming too.

“Are you serious?”

“High stick,” the ref yelled as he went for center ice, but Jordie followed.

“My stick went up because the douche tripped me!”

“Fucking *,” the guy called, but Jordie ignored him.

“No, you high-sticked him before you fell.”

“No! Fucking horseshit f*cking call!” Jordie screamed, throwing his hands up. “Man, if I’d known you needed your dick sucked before the game for a decent call, I would have hired someone!”

The ref glared as he called the penalty, and Jordie headed into the box. Sitting down, Jordie glowered, watching as his team fought to keep the Stars from scoring. Tate was doing ninja goalie moves, smacking everything away, the boys clearing the zone every chance they got. They killed off the penalty, and when the time ran down, Jordie broke out of the box just as Erik sent it along the boards. Getting control of the puck, Jordie rushed the goal, the goalie coming out to stop him. But, taking a page out of Kacey’s book, Jordie deked to the left, then the right, confusing the hell out of the goalie, and then shot top shelf, getting the goal.

Hell. YES.

It was his first goal of the year.

And it felt damn good.



“Baby, you see my goal? That was for you,” Jordie boasted as Kacey grinned back at him.

“You mean, you stole my move and knew you had to dedicate the goal to me?” she teased and he nodded.

“Exactly.”

“Great goal, nonetheless. I’m proud of you,” she said with a bright grin, her eyes locked on his. He hated that this was the only way he could see her. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, but thankfully, only two more days.

“Thanks, sugar thighs.”

She sent him a grin. “How’s your shoulder?”

He pulled his shirt down, showing her that he had one hell of a nasty bruise along his neck and shoulder. It hurt, but the scans said nothing was broken, and when they offered him pain meds, he declined. He actually felt sort of badass and extremely proud of himself.

Looking at the screen, she grimaced and said, “Ouch.”

“Yeah, wish you were here to kiss it better.”

“Me too,” she agreed, moving her hand through her hair. He loved how long it was getting. It’d be to the middle of her back in no time.

“I said no to the pain meds,” he said and her face lit up.

“’Cause you’re badass.”

“Very true,” he agreed, the pride bursting inside of him. Meeting her gaze, he asked, “Hey, you still miss me?”

She nodded as she looked down. “A lot.”

“Good.” She grinned up at him and he shot her one back. “You look tired. You all right?”

She laughed. “Is that the way you tell me I look like shit?”

“No, brat, you just look beat. Wanna call me back?”

She shook her head. “No, I miss you and haven’t spoken to you much today.”