Overtime(95)

First, it would be the lawn, then what color the shutters should be, then he’d be redecorating their house. And the next thing you knew, he’d be naming their children. Then, Lord, her mother would be over every day cleaning and teaching her how to cook, while making them both fat with all the food she prepared. Nope, Karl and Regina King could stay right next to her big brother and his wife. Then again, physical distance couldn’t keep them out of her way before, so she doubted a few streets over would keep them at bay. Might as well get used to the idea of them poking their noses into their business. Thankfully, Jordie loved them as much as she did.

But that didn’t matter today. No, this morning, Jordie was going down.

When he shot her a grin, she glared, placing her hand on her hip as she held her stick loosely in her hand. “Stop talking so much and let’s do this. Post shots?”

He nodded. “Take it back to the line if you get possession,” he reminded her and she nodded. “First to three, wins.”

“Fine, drop it,” she said, moving her mouthguard back in her mouth. He looked deep into her eyes and when he puckered a kiss at her, she was seconds from smacking him with her stick. Finally, he dropped the puck. Taking it off the draw, she sailed past him, hitting the brakes when she heard him behind her. Like she wanted, he hit her hip, going headfirst into the ice. Not letting that faze her, she took the shot, hitting it off the crossbar.

“One for me!” she cheered before getting the puck to pass to him. But he was still lying on the ice.

“That was cheap,” he said, getting up, and she shrugged.

“I don’t play fair. I play to win.”

He nodded. “I see how this is going to go,” he said before taking the puck from her and then to the line. Toeing the ice, he took off, but she knew what he was going to do before he did and cut left as he did, spinning the puck away and going back to the line. Glaring at her, he shook his head.

“Bullshit, I’m still healing,” he tried and she laughed, moving the puck between her legs and back out.

“Bullshit, don’t get all pissy ’cause I’m gonna beat you,” she teased and his glare deepened. When she went left, he followed and she sent the puck through his legs, going around him to pick it up. She didn’t have the shot, so she went wide of the net, and when he barreled after her, she watched as it hit off the boards before coming to the slot. Lifting the puck, she hit the side of the post and grinned back at him.

“First to three right?”

He set her with a serious look, breathing hard. “I said five.”

She giggled. “Sure ya did.”

“It isn’t fair. You’re fast as shit, and it isn’t like I can slam you against the boards to stop you,” he complained, and she looked over her shoulder at him as she got in place before he took the puck out.

“Are you crying like a little bitch, Thomas?”

“Did you just call me a bitch?” he asked, shocked, and she nodded.

“I did. Now hush, girlie girl, and let’s do this.”

“Oh no, you didn’t,” he said in the same Valley girl voice that Karson liked to use. Taking off, she thought he was going to go left, so she deked, ready to cut him off. But he threw the puck over her, and then to her surprise, batted the puck into the net. Throwing his hands up, he said, “Boom!”

“Boom, what?” she screeched. “You didn’t even hit the post.”

He looked at the net and then to her. “Yes, I did.”

“You liar! You did not!” she yelled, and she was about to go on when he shot her a big grin.

“Fine, I didn’t. But I should get a point for the awesome batting I did,” he suggested and she shook her head, taking the puck out.

“I don’t give charity goals,” she shot at him and he laughed.

“Such a badass,” he teased and she grinned as she went to the line.

“I score, I win,” she reminded him and he shrugged.

“Won’t happen. I’m gonna stop you and then score three in a row,” he proclaimed and it took everything out of her not to laugh, but he just looked so adorably hot. His brow was furrowed, his breathing hard, and he had sweat dripping from his beard. But the best part was his intense gaze. He wanted to win, and she was so sad to disappoint him, but he was going down. She knew it wasn’t fair. He’d had practice before they hit the ice, but it wasn’t her fault he’d challenged her. She doubted he would ever make that mistake again.

Grinning, she slap shot the puck, whizzing it past him and knocking into the boards.

“What the hell?” he called. And as she knew it would, it caught him off guard, so she rushed, catching the rebound and then lifting it off the ice to hit the crossbar. “Now, that’s not fair! You distracted me!”

Giggling, she shrugged as she pulled off her helmet, shaking out her hair and then taking her mouthguard out. “Told ya I’d win.”

He shook his head. “You already did that move though!”

“There are no rules for repeat moves. It worked the first time, and I figured it’d work the second.”

He glared. “You know I’m worn out from practice too. You wouldn’t have beat me if I was at full strength.”

“Of course not,” she said, trying not to smile.