Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(53)

My eyes widen in horror, but I don’t think a lot of people saw it because everyone’s watching Jacob. Did Jacob see it?

He passes the puck up the ice to Buck but stops, spins around, and rushes at the Knight who just hit John, dropping his gloves.

Screaming Jesus, he’s going to fight that hulk.

I close my eyes as my heart climbs into my throat. But I have to watch. They’re yelling at each other, although I can’t hear exactly what they’re saying. I’m sure it’s laced with profanities and insults. I know hitting the goalie like that is absolutely dirty. And Jacob is standing up for his teammate.

They raise their fists and circle around each other until finally Jacob lashes out with a fist and the other guy grabs him. They’re wrestling, punching, yanking jerseys, and the Knight’s helmet goes flying off. Jacob lands a few good punches and then throws the guy to the ice, landing on top of him. The crowd roars with approval.

I cover my mouth with my hands. Holy duck f*ck, this is so dangerous. They’re on sharp blades, on ice, punching each other. Luckily that Knight player’s head doesn’t hit the ice without his helmet on. That could be so bad. My stomach tightens painfully, watching this brutality. Damn, I hate this part of the game.

The other players are cheering their guys on, but once they’re down, the linesmen step in and pull Jacob off his opponent. He doesn’t really resist. He’s made his point.

One linesman pushes Jacob toward the penalty box and the other player gets up, apparently not hurt. He’s got a hand to his face though, and as he makes his way to the other penalty box he’s shouting at Jacob, who turns and yells back, this time clear as anything, “No, you’re the f*cking * for hitting the f*cking goalie, moron!”

The guy’s name on his jersey is “Morin” and fans snicker about this.

Everyone starts clapping and cheering for Jacob, who clearly won the fight. I watch him stomp into the penalty box and throw himself down on the bench, breathing hard. He takes his helmet off, and a trainer hands over a towel that Jacob uses to wipe his face and then his visor. I can see the set of his jaw and his narrowed eyes, his face flushed—he’s pissed.

And gorgeous.

And I’m a mess. A terrified, relieved, angry, proud mess.

He sits for five minutes for fighting, clearly anxious to get back out there. I’d rather watch him than the game. But the fight seems to have energized the Bears, who score two unanswered goals and win the game four-two.

Ella and I are heading home after the game, although she tried to convince me to go to Curly’s, and Jacob is going to visit with his parents. Tomorrow night we’re having dinner with them to celebrate his birthday, which is Sunday. That is freaking me the hell out. Having to make conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Flass while pretending to be Jacob’s girlfriend—gah! Why is he making me do this?

Okay, okay, he’s not making me. He just has this charming ability to always get his own way. It’s mildly annoying.

—

Saturday evening I’m stressed about what to wear. We’re going to Rudy’s Public House, which is a fun kind of place with steaks and burgers, nothing fancy. Again, I’m not sure why I care this much about what they think of me. I could wear my shortest skirt and highest heels and a top cut down to my navel and it wouldn’t matter.

I drag Ella into my room to help and this is no act.

She studies my closet, pulls out a black dress, then puts it back. Finally she says, “Jeans. With boots and…this top.” She pulls out a plain black long-sleeved T. “And my big black-and-gray scarf. Hang on.”

Hmm. Okay, with the scarf it won’t look so plain. I do love that scarf. I strip off my yoga pants and hoodie and pull on my skinny jeans. Ella returns with the scarf and I finish dressing, then wrap it around my neck in a big cowl, the corners hanging loose.

She adjusts the ends. “There. Casual but put together. With your black boots, it’s perfect.”

“Thank you. I don’t know why I was so flustered about it.”

“Hey. It’s Jacob’s parents. I get it.”

I swallow my sigh.

Jacob arrives then to pick me up. I sit on the couch to zip up my boots and then I grab my black pea coat, which luckily the scarf also goes with. “I think I’m wearing too much black. I look like I’m going to a funeral.”

Jacob laughs and kisses my forehead. “You look gorgeous, gorgeous.”

“They’re going to think I’m emo.”

“I don’t think they know what emo is.”

His parents are staying at a hotel, so they’re meeting us at the restaurant.

“Did they enjoy the game last night?”

He makes a disgusted noise. “They said they did, but f*ck, I can’t believe I got in a fight.”

“You were defending your goalie. Plus, you motivated the team. Look how it turned out.”

“Yeah.” He grins. “You’re becoming quite the hockey fan.”

“Hmm. Except I hated seeing you fight.”

“Yeah? Worried about me?”

“Maybe a little.” I chew on my bottom lip. Then I change the subject. “So. Yesterday I went to talk to my faculty advisor about changing my major.”

Jacob’s head snaps around. “Really?”

“Yes. You made me think about it. She was really supportive and helpful.”