Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance Jami Davenport (best summer reads of all time .txt) 📖

I sniffed and gazed up at him. “I’m sorry. I’m emotional right now. I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that.”

He shrugged and grinned at me. “It’s okay. Really. What are friends for?”

I gave him another hug just as my dad showed up. His brow furrowed as he swung his gaze from me to Patrick and back. I pushed away from Patrick.

“Sorry I’m late. I have another obligation. Can you wait?” Dad said. He nodded briskly at Patrick.

“I can’t, Dad.” I ignored the curious stare Dad cast in our direction.

“I’m sorry. I’ll catch you later, honey.” After a quick hug, my dad walked away. He paused at the end of the hallway, glancing over his shoulder one final time.

“Do you think he’s reading more into this than there is?” Patrick asked.

I shrugged, not wanting to deal with any additional drama. “Who knows. Right now, his suspicions are the least of my problems. I have to get to my study group. Thanks for the shoulder to cry on.”

“Anytime, Omi.” Patrick turned in the opposite direction toward the locker room.

I left the building and hurried to my study group, feeling a little better. Paxton and I would get through this. We had to. He needed time, that was all. He was overwhelmed right now with all the changes in his life and the pressures on him to perform.

The least I could do was take the pressure off him when it came to us.

33

Busted

Paxton

Sex with Naomi last Sunday night had been almost frantic in our desperation. We clung to each other even as our relationship slipped out of our fingers. Neither of us had a clue how to hold on to what we had.

We’d texted each other and talked last night, but I hadn’t seen her since. It was already Wednesday afternoon, and I fucking missed her so much my body ached from emotional pain. A piercing headache hit me right between the eyes, and I wondered if Coach Garf had a crystal for that.

Doubts assailed me as I ran through my various conversations with Patrick, my dad, and the Sockeyes. I didn’t know what to do. Without Naomi as my sounding board, I was a ship adrift at sea in a growing storm. Yet my family and future teammates insinuated Naomi was or could be part of my problem.

Was she?

Or was she my solution?

I was a hot fucking mess. This wasn’t like me. I was the grounded one. The serious guy who knew what he was doing and where he was going. Or I’d thought I did. Perhaps it was all a façade, and I was as clueless as any other college student regarding my future.

I turned down the empty hallway outside the rink near the coaches’ offices. I was early for my private session with Coach Garf. He wasn’t in his office. I wandered down the hallway aimlessly, debating on whether or not to put on my skates and take to the ice or call it a night.

I heard muffled voices and instantly recognized both of them. Naomi and Patrick. What the fuck? My curiosity got the best of me, and I snuck closer. My headache intensified. I rubbed the crystals in a last-ditch attempt to calm myself. They didn’t calm me one fucking bit.

I crept toward the side hall, my heart pounding in my chest and my body tensed.

Holding my breath, I peeked around the corner. Naomi had her back to me as she clung to my brother. Her head was tilted upward, and their mouths were too close together. Patrick was so intent on gazing into her eyes, he didn’t see me. She gripped his shirt as she leaned into him, and he had his arms around her waist.

Bile rose in my throat, and I feared I might be physically sick. I backed down the hall as quiet as could be. As soon as I got to the locker room, I escaped into it. A few minutes later, I heard footsteps and an exit door open and shut.

The roaring in my ears deafened me, despite the silence in the locker room.

Naomi and my brother.

Everything she’d told me about how I was the one had been a lie. And what about Patrick? I thought his concern about my relationship with Naomi had been out of brotherly love rather than wanting her to himself. What a fucking fool I’d been.

No one would be able to fake the chemistry we had when it came to sex, but even so, our explosive love life didn’t appear to be enough.

I sat down on a bench and stared at the cold concrete block walls. My mind was numb. My body was numb. Fuck, even my heart had gone numb. I might as well have been standing naked in sub-zero temperatures for an hour. Everything froze inside me.

With a great effort, I got to my feet and grabbed my skates out of my locker. After my mom had died, I’d turned to skating as my therapy. I don’t know how many miles I racked up in the rink late at night, but it’d been a lot.

As my blades glided across the smooth surface, I began to unthaw. I started to feel real pain, heart-deep and gut-wrenching.

I’d fucking fallen in love with her. I’d always been crazy about her, but I’d gone far beyond that. I’d convinced myself she was my forever love or some stupid-assed romantic bullshit like that.

All hockey, all the time. Only hockey. All I need is hockey, I chanted as I skated faster and faster around the rink. Affirmations, I had to remember affirmations, like Coach taught me. If I said it enough, my subconscious would find a way to make it come true, except when it involved other people. My subconscious couldn’t make Naomi love me.

I skated harder, pushing my body beyond its limits and ignoring its protests at the abuse.

Hockey. All Hockey. Hockey is all that matters. Concentrate only on hockey.

Everyone in