Sleet Banshee by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

SEBASTIAN

Who the fuck is Banshee sitting with?

When I texted her last night asking if she was coming to my game, I thought it was pretty fucking clear that I wanted her here for me. But then she shows up with a whole group of guys? What the hell?

And it’s not like I wouldn’t see them. Even if she wasn’t seated a few dozen feet from my net, her goddamn hair calls to me like a siren. I could find her anywhere in this arena.

The mental image of her sitting there surrounded by guys that she clearly knows well makes me clench my teeth all over again. I swear to god, if she tries to friend-zone me, after giving me half a blow job, I’m going to lose my shit. And whichever one of those assholes thinks that they can steal her from me will find themselves bloody in a fucking dumpster.

I heave out a breath. We’ve finished warming up and are back in the locker room. I need to get my headspace right for this game. We’re playing California. They’ve had a tough week of losses, so it should be an easy win, but I can’t get sloppy out there. The goalie isn’t allowed those luxuries.

“You ready, Ash?” Zach pounds his glove against my back.

I nod my head once. “Yeah. I got this.”

“You’re pissed.” It’s not a question.

I’m good at keeping emotions off my face, but anger is just one of those feelings that claws in deep.

“She’s sitting with a bunch of fucking guys.”

Zach doesn’t have to ask. He knows who I’m talking about.

“Use it.” He steps forward and tugs on my jersey until our helmets clink together. “She’s sitting there watching you. Thinking about you. If some jackass with beer breath and skinny arms thinks he has something on Ash LeBlanc, then he’s got a lot to learn. Take that anger and turn it into power.”

I nod.

Zach shoves me. “Now let’s go out there and fuck some shit up.”

Finally a grin breaks through. “Hell yeah!”

With that, the music changes and we rush down the ramp and onto the ice.