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

wrong thing? Should I have been the one to fight for him? For us?

The moment passed quickly. I leaned down and brushed my lips briefly against his mouth. Straightening, I pointed to the ice skates. “I didn’t get a chance to return these.”

I grabbed my purse, spun on my heel, and ran to the door. I shoved the door open, barreling into Patrick. He reached out to steady me, but I pushed past him.

“Naomi? Are you okay?”

I kept going, grateful he didn’t follow me.

I was not okay. Far from it.

35

Winner of the Game

Paxton

My heart followed Naomi out the door. Sadness weighted down my body. Grief blurred my vision. Numbness paralyzed me.

I gritted my teeth and fisted my hands when I saw her interact with my brother at the door. She was free of me, and they were free to do whatever they pleased with each other.

Please, God, don’t let something happen under my nose.

I half expected Patrick to go after her. Instead, he pushed past the door and glanced around. His face reddened with anger when he spotted me.

Patrick marched in my direction like a man on a mission. I braced myself for whatever might come next. He stopped in front of me, hands on his hips and chin stuck out belligerently. I stole a glance at the hockey table, where, at some point in the past few minutes, multiple teammates and their girlfriends were now sitting. Some were watching us, like the trailers were over and the main movie had started.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Patrick hissed at me.

“Sit your ass down, Captain. We have an audience.” I pointed with my chin toward the hockey table.

Patrick glanced over his shoulder and winced. He quickly slid into the chair Naomi had vacated after she’d ripped my world apart.

My twin leaned across the table, his voice low but threatening. “She’s crying. What did you do to her?”

“She broke up with me, asshole. I didn’t do a fucking thing.” The huskiness in my voice betrayed the raw emotions too close to the surface.

He sat back as if I’d slapped him. “She dumped you?”

“Yeah, you happy now? You can’t stand when I have something you don’t, can you? You have to fuck it up for me because you have to be king.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I had nothing to do with this. Maybe she’d had enough of your sorry ass and your pity parties. You’ve been moping around a lot.”

“My pity parties?” I half rose from my chair until I caught the multiple sets of eyes intent on us. I sat back down. “You’ve been pouting half the season because I wasn’t giving you scoring opps.”

“Fuck you. I have not been. You’re the moper.”

“I haven’t been moping. I’ve been thinking about my future. You should try it sometime, but maybe that’s beyond what your feeble brain can handle.”

“You wanna take this outside?” Patrick fisted his hands on the table. I looked down at those fists and supreme sadness washed over me. Not only had I lost Naomi, I’d also lost my brother. My two best friends in this world…

Maybe I was having a pity party.

I lifted my gaze and met Patrick’s defiant glare. We stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity. Over the years, we’d gotten in a few scuffles, especially in our teenage years, but we’d never come to blows.

I looked away first, hating myself for doing it, but I did it for the team. Patrick wouldn’t have backed down. It wasn’t in his nature. Maybe it shouldn’t be in mine either. Maybe that’s the missing piece Coach was trying to instill in me—that fighting spirit that never gave up.

“Coward,” Patrick whispered.

“Team player,” I shot back.

“Coulda fooled me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Patrick sneered at me. “You figure it out.” He shoved his chair back so hard it hit the person sitting behind him. “Sorry,” he muttered, ignoring their scathing glare. He stomped out of the Biscuit, not even acknowledging our teammates.

I stayed where I was, not wanting to go home and not wanting to stay here.

“Paxton.”

Lex studied me with his brow furrowed in concern. Not waiting for an invitation, he sat down. “You look like you could use a friend.”

“Maybe.” I ordered tequila on the rocks from the waitress walking past my table.

“You guys aren’t fooling anyone. Every guy on the team feels the tension between you two.”

I shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“Have you ever considered he might have a legit complaint?”

“What?” I gaped at Lex. He was usually on my side.

“Maybe you aren’t passing the puck to Patrick when you should be. Maybe both of you share some of the responsibility in this rift between you?”

“Coach would’ve said something if he thought I was hogging the puck.” I defended my actions, even as doubt crept it.

“Coach isn’t out on the ice. You are. And maybe he’s letting you two work this out on your own. He doesn’t want to discourage your aggressive shooting by contradicting himself and telling you to shoot less. I don’t know. I’ve seen moments in the past where you played with Patrick as if you two were in each other’s heads, like you were one mind and body. It was sheer poetry in motion to watch the two of you take apart a defense. Now I see two guys out for themselves.”

“I’m not out for myself.”

“Not on purpose. You’re doing what you need to do. All I’m suggesting is you might have overdone your part a little. Not much. But a little and added to Patrick’s frustration. Just think about it. You know I’ve always got your back.”

I nodded, but I was resistant to Lex’s claims. If I wasn’t doing what Coach wanted, he’d have told me. I knew he would’ve.

“And Naomi. She was upset when she ran out of here.”

I heaved a sigh and met Lex’s gaze. “She dumped me.”

“She did? For Patrick? Is that what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I think so.” I