Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz
CHAPTER 22
Practice may be grueling,but out here on the ice is where I belong. My focus needs to be singular to achieve my goal. Nothing else matters except getting the biscuit in the basket and ending up with a higher number on the scoreboard than our opponents.
So why is it that my gaze rises up to the stands, searching out my ultimate distraction?
The shrill of Coach’s whistle has my attention breaking away from my biggest frustration and back to the ice.
Another face-off, and we’re off again. Quads burning and chest heaving, I chase the puck down the ice. All practice, our line has been playing a man down as we work on our penalty kill skills. Coach is relentless, having us run the same play repeatedly until we not only stop them from scoring but can turn the other team’s man advantage into a scoring opportunity for us.
My skates send a spray of snow at the boards as I stop, hooking the blade of my stick over the edge of the puck, and pass to Duke, who’s waiting to send it sailing into the back of the net.
Coach nods his approval as we skate back to the bench, but I’m unable to bask in it because my attention is drawn to a bowing Duke. One arm folds across his stomach as he bends forward before repeating the process with the other arm. It’s not his over-the-top antics that are pulling my and most of the team’s focus, but the beauty applauding him from her perch high in the stands.
For the last week and a half, Savvy has watched our practices more often than not. At first, I couldn’t believe Coach allowed it, but the only person her presence seems to affect is me.
“You good?” Duke asks as we skate out to the face-off circle near our goal.
“Fine,” I mutter for what feels like the millionth time. It’s not much of an exaggeration. Since Savvy propositioned him into playing into their engagement last week, he’s made sure to check in a few times a day. If I wasn’t such a selfish bastard, I would credit them to keeping us from having any new conversations with our fists, but I haven’t found myself in much of a giving mood of late.
The self-serving side of me tells me I should be grateful for the out. With Duke playing the doting fiancé, it creates a barrier that will help keep me from acting in a way that could cost me my future.
Unfortunately, it’s the selfish side of me that keeps taking issue with it. I want her, and keeping my distance is killing me.
The first time I tried to drape my arm behind her chair at lunch after she brokered her deal with Duke, the plea in her purple eyes gutted me. It would be so much easier if I could claim she was going back to playing games with me, using my jealousy against me to toy with me by flirting with guys in front of me. Except I can’t. She was straight up with me, explaining that while her relationship with Duke might not be real, it needs to seem like it to the outside world.
It physically pains me to not touch her. It only gets worse every time Duke brushes the hair from her face, throws an arm around her shoulders, or just holds her hand. It’s like I’m being prodded with a hot poker. Each one of his obnoxious nicknames grates like nails on a chalkboard.
“Noble,” Coach barks.
I shake myself out of my mental musings and skate to my spot. Hands flexing around the carbon fiber shaft, I readjust my grip on my stick, knees bending, torso folding forward, and settle into position for a face-off.
The rubber puck hits the ice, and I use my stick’s blade to smack my opponent’s away and send it sailing back to a waiting Banks.
Like a carefully choreographed dance, I push to the right. At the same time, Banks goes left, splitting the opposition’s line and skating into their territory.
Checks are exchanged, the sounds of bodies slamming into the boards reverberating through the empty stands inside the arena as players battle it out for possession.
Duke accepts a pass from Banks, dipping a shoulder to avoid a hit from an opposing defender while I get into position near the crease. He doesn’t need to look up to know I’m there, passing me the puck to slip between the leg pads of our starting goalie to light the lamp.
My gaze automatically goes to the stands again, searching out Savvy. While she is still watching, there’s no outward sign of approval or appreciation like Duke received for his goal. She’s way too good at pretending nothing exists between us for my sanity.
My thoughts can’t help but continue in a constant spiral. What could make her instigate a fake relationship with my best friend? What could push her into keeping her distance from me? Scared is the last adjective I would use to describe Savvy, but that’s exactly how she’s been acting.
Where is the girl who defied the kings on her first day? The same one who threatened guys she knew nothing about away from her friend? Where is that spark of attitude?
Sure, she still doesn’t take any shit from anybody, but all our interactions seem…flat now. Where is that instinct to challenge me at every turn?
We’re a week out from our first regular season game; I shouldn’t be worrying about these things. I need to get my head out from between Savvy’s legs and into the game. I’ve got enough things coming for my future. Why the hell am I letting her demons get in my way?
“Noble,” Coach snaps.
Fuck!The first few days, I was able to function normally, but with each one that passes, it’s getting harder to shut it all out.
“Come on, bro.” Duke claps me on the back, his hockey gloves thumping against my pads. He casts his gaze north and gives a subtle shake of his head. He’s right. Not the time.
We rejoin our line, and for the rest of practice, I’m able to successfully shut out all thoughts of Savvy. By the time we’re done, my muscles are fatigued, and sweat causes my practice jersey to stick to my skin.
Banks and I hang back with Duke as the rest of the team filters off the ice, Savvy meeting us at the mouth of the tunnel that leads to the locker room.
“Hey there, snuggle bunny.” Duke attempts to drop an arm around Savvy’s shoulders, but the added height from our skates makes his already towering stature too much for it to be more than resting a hand on her.
“First off…” Savvy uses the tips of two fingers to pluck Duke’s arm off of her, unceremoniously dropping it and drawing a grin from me. “Ew.” The top of her lip crinkles in disgust. “And second…” She fiddles with the flap of her messenger bag, pulling out something pink and fluffy before slapping it against Duke’s stomach with enough force to have an “oof” escape. “Don’t ever use bunny in your nicknames for me again.”
She starts to walk away, but I snag her wrist before she can get too far. Her gaze goes to the padded fingers wrapped around her then up to my face, one of her blonde brows arching in question. This is the most I’ve touched her in over a week, and I swear even through all the layers of material separating us, her skin burns mine.
Next to us, Duke juggles the offending object. “The fuck?” he asks, lifting a set of pink bunny ears once he gets a solid hold on it. “You trying to tell me you’re a furry or something?”
Savvy sighs heavily and rolls her eyes. “Why am I not surprised your demented mind would instantly go to something sexual?”
“It’s what I do best, kitten.” Duke plants his skates into the rubber mat and thrusts his hips, channeling his inner Channing Tatum.
“I can’t even with you.” Savvy may complain, may seem like she’s put out by my best friend’s antics, but there’s no missing the almost conspiratorial smirk the two share.
They’ve been bonding, and it irks the shit out of me, as does the way she gives a pointed glance at where I haven’t released my hold on her. It takes another too-long moment before common sense pushes to the forefront and I do.
“If you’re not trying to tell me you wanna get down with the kinky shit, what’s with the Playboy accessory?” Savvy smacks Duke’s hand away when he tries to plant the ears on her head. The scowl she levels him with has my dick pushing against my cup.
Something is seriously wrong with me that even when it’s not directed my way, I’m affected just being in close proximity to her fire.
“You keep that shit up, and I’ll be a widow, or whatever you call it before we get married.”
Duke beams from ear to ear, hands—one still clutching the bunny ears—pressed to his heart. “And here I thought you had no intention of walking down the aisle. Are you saying you changed your mind, boo-boo?”
“Jesus.” Savvy kneads the bridge of her brow.
It’s probably wrong to derive pleasure from Duke’s continued annoyance of Savvy, but I don’t give a fuck. Being told their relationship isn’t real only goes so far when forced to sit back and watch as they portray the exact opposite. It’s its own brand of torture, mainly because it only emphasizes how little control I have over the situation.
It doesn’t help that Savvy has completely shut me out, leaving me without an opportunity to glean any information on why she needs Duke to play into their parents’ insanity. I can’t exert my control without proper intel.
“Look”—her cheeks puff out as she exhales a controlled breath—“I’m not trying to pick a fight, but remember how you idiots tried to prove—”
The pointed glance she sends my way is filled with the familiar challenge that heats my blood and has me looking for the closest object to bend her over.
“—to me you were the reigning kings in this place?”
The three of us nod, and it’s a struggle not to reach out and run my thumb across her mouth as it presses into a flat line.
“Well…you might want to remind Arabella and her minions what I did the last time someone left something attached to my locker.”
“Arabella gave you this?” I snatch the ears from Duke, the thin plastic band bending in my grip thanks to the surge of protectiveness flooding my system.
Savvy nods. “Along with a note filled with all kinds of tips on how to properly be the team’s new puck bunny.”
“If that’s not the pot calling the kettle black…” Banks murmurs.
Since Savvy’s arrival, things have shifted at BA. Students noticed her and were curious to learn about the girl who openly challenged their leaders. She defied us and retaliated, but the balance of power remained intact. It wasn’t until we started to broker a truce between us that the real change occurred. Then came the engagement announcement and the realization that Savvy is related to Carter King. With every bit of ground Savvy gained, The Unholy Trilogy lost some.
“Her hypocrisy isn’t the issue here, nor is the weak attempt at threatening me she ended the note with.” Savvy plucks the ears from me and tosses them into a nearby trash can. “But since we’re”—she bounces a finger between herself and us—“supposed to be playing nice, I’ll give you a chance to handle this before I do.”