Sleet Sugar by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

IZZY

I look at the clock. The third period just started, and we are still down 3-to-2.

“It’s gotta be tough to be a goalie,” Meghan says.

“Yeah, I know I could never handle the pressure. The players all know that it’s a team effort, but the press and fans often put all the blame on the goalie when the other team scores. He’s good though. He’ll power through.”

Meghan nods her agreement.

The energy has stayed high the whole game. Both teams fighting for every shot that they get.

Utah gets control of the puck and moves it to our side of the ice. They’re being meticulous about moving in on the goal and are doing a good job executing passes. Our players work to keep the pressure on, and Utah is forced to move closer to get a shot. Once again, there's a swarm of players right up on the goal, only it’s in front of our net this time. Zach is in the middle of the fray and is fighting to clear the puck.

Utah takes a shot, and Ash is struggling to gain control. There’s so much movement, he can’t get his glove on the puck.

A Utah player swings his stick in to attempt a shot... a second after Ash gets his hand on the rock, and the player’s stick strikes Ash’s arm.

Utah’s hit might be understandable, but Zach doesn’t seem to think so. He’s on him so fast it takes the other players a moment to catch up. A second Utah player grabs Zach from behind, somehow knocking his helmet loose.

Luke is also deep in the fray, in a shoving match with his own opponent. A third Utah guy comes at Zach and takes a swing at his unprotected face. The hit connects with his jaw, but Zach saw the punch and was able to turn with it.

To everyone’s surprise, and sheer delight, Ash pushes forward and throws a punch of his own.

The crowd, already cheering and shouting, loses their freaking minds. Goalies pretty much never get involved in a fight. This is going to be a night to remember for sure.

Zach sees that Ash has joined in the brawl and something inside of him seems to snap. He pushes Player Two off of him, and - fixing his sights back on Player One, the one who hit Ash - Zach pulls his gloves off. I didn’t think the arena could get louder, but it does.

Gloves off means shit is about to get serious.

Player One drops his own gloves, and they square off. Luke shoves more Utah players away from Zach, giving him the room he needs to strike. Player One tries to hit first, but misses.

Zach doesn’t. Zach hits his target. Player One drops.

The refs start blowing their whistles for real now, pushing through to break up the mess. Ash pats Zach on the back and says something to him, making Zach smile.

Not waiting to be told, Zach starts to head towards the penalty box. The box we’re sitting next to.

Since Utah Player One also dropped his gloves to fight, he’s getting a penalty, too. But his face is bleeding, so he’s heading to the locker room and another player is taking his place in the box.

Zach skates over leisurely, with that slight smile still on his face. The herd of floozies in front of me have their signs against the glass again, and he glances at them before looking up at me. Seeing the scowl on my face, his slight smile turns into a broad grin.

Jackass.

Of course, the Party Bus Bitches think that smile is for them and they start falling all over each other. I roll my eyes and force myself to not look over at Zach. It’s tempting to stare, with him so close.

I avoid it for as long as I can, but as the game starts up I cave and sneak a look over.

His profile is breathtaking. He looks like a warrior. Like a gladiator, only in hockey gear instead of heavy metal armor. Hmmm, I bet he’d look sexy as sin in a suit of armor though. Is that a thing I can buy? Because if it is it’s totally going on my Amazon wishlist.

“Careful, you’re gonna start drooling soon.”

It’s like he can hear Meghan, because at that precise moment he looks over.

We stare at each other and it’s like he’s right next to me, not separated by 15 feet and a plate of plexiglass. Thinking of having him next to me, I’m reminded of his body heat. How his muscles felt under my hands, under my thighs. And my core clenches at the memory of him. The photo booth was fun, but I ache to have all of him. To feel him inside me like I did that first night. Back before I knew he was Zachary Hunt. Before I knew just how great he really was.

The refs call off-sides, and the play stops. I look up to the board and see that Zach has 20 seconds left in his penalty. Before the ref drops the puck in the face off, Zach glances at me, and winks.

The puck drops.

I melt.

The penalty clock runs out.

Zach is sprinting across the ice.

“Oh my god! Did Zachary Hunt just wink at me?” shrieks one of the drunk girls.

“Not on your life, girlie,” Meghan says loudly.

The women all turn back to look at Meghan.

“That wink was for this chick here.” She throws a thumb my way.

The girls all turn their drunk heads in unison to look at me. It’s very Stepford.

“Who’s she?” the bride-to-be asks.

“She’s the girl who’s fucking Zachary Hunt,” Meghan states plainly.

The women gasp.

And my face flames with heat, while my body flames with smug pride.