The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,34
ear causes goosebumps to spread over my skin.
“Noah,” I urge him to move faster, moving my hips up to meet his.
He swears and quickens his pace. My body coils tighter and tighter, my core pulsing, my fingers clutching his back. Then, I break, screaming out his name and shattering into a million beads of bliss.
Noah follows immediately afterwards and collapses on top of me before rolling so we’re both on our sides, my ass hovering over the edge of the couch.
“That was intense,” I breathe out, my heart galloping.
Noah’s fingers dip into my waist as he growls, “What the hell am I doing with you, Indy? What the hell was that?”
I snort, keeping my eyes closed and enjoying this moment a hell of a lot more than I should. Considering it’s casual. Considering it’s fun, sexy times.
But damn does my heart sing at Noah’s words.
14
Noah
I flip the puck to Sims, noting from my peripheral vision that Austin blocks for him. Sims breaks away, perfectly executing a wrist shot as the buzzer for the second period sounds. The team celebrates, smacking Sims’ helmet and back. As we collapse onto the bench, guzzling water, an energy shift seems to wash over the bench.
For the first time since Sims claimed my brother’s spot four weeks ago, the team embraces him. Words are exchanged but the edge is gone, playful punches don’t hold the same strength, the veil of distrust has been lifted.
Sims catches my eye and dips his chin. I lift mine slightly and we come to an understanding. He’s my teammate and I’m going to do everything I can to push the team forward. But I’ll always have my brother’s back.
The realization settles me some and feels good, as if I’ve come to an important decision after long nights of it weighing on my mind, zapping my energy.
“Listen up,” Coach Phillips walks down the bench, rattling off instructions and tweaking some of our play. We’re up 3–1 against the Seattle Serpents and we need this win, need to keep the start of our season successful with the right morale to carry us forward. “Don’t lose your edge. You’ve got one period left,” Coach bellows, slapping our helmets as he passes.
When the buzzer sounds again and we line up for the face-off, Austin tosses me a grateful grin and I know we’re doing the right thing. We’re backing Sims to ensure he becomes part of the team, we’re creating a rhythm with him that may be more promising than our natural ease with Easton. We’re doing what’s right for the team, even if it isn’t what’s best for my brother. But then again, I think back to everything I’ve learned from Indy, maybe it is. Maybe what’s best for Easton aren’t the assumptions I’ve been carrying around for ages. Maybe it isn’t even hockey.
The puck is dropped and play begins. Tuning out the noise in my head, I focus in on the puck. Austin passes to me and I skate furiously up the side of the rink, flipping a backhand pass to Sims before I’m body checked into the boards. We play hard for the next four minutes until a fight breaks out between Torsten and a Serpent. Within moments, the entire team on the ice is involved and the whistles are blowing angrily from the referees with both coaches shouting at their players. Once the fight is broken up, I spot Austin’s grin. Sims jumped in first for Torsten and there’s no better way to cement team unity than by taking a punch intended for another guy. Torsten’s lip is bleeding but the Seattle winger looks worse off.
I chuckle, scratching my cheek. God, I’ve missed this game. I’ve missed this rush. I’ve missed it all since the end of last season. I glance up to the box where the WAGs always sit. When I spot Indy’s face, I smile.
Seeing her here, cheering us on, fills me with even more excitement for tonight. Adrenaline buzzes in my veins and I lose myself once more to the game I love.
After we secure our fourth win this season, Boston celebrates. Good energy and vibes dance over the team and we all agree to head to Taps, one of our team favorites and frequently visited bars.
I shower quickly in the locker room, dressing in dark jeans and a black sweater. My cheek is red from where I got slammed but other than that, I clean up pretty well.