Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance, Jami Davenport [best reads txt] 📗

My phone rang. It was Dad. Normally, I ignored his calls, but tonight I embraced any excuse to prolong the agony of watching Naomi and Patrick flirt with each other. I wanted to hear Dad’s praise so badly I answered.

“I have to get this. I’ll meet you at the pizza place.”

“Sounds good. I’ll save you a seat.”

I waited until Lex was out of earshot and pressed the answer button. “Hi, Dad.”

“Paxton, what the fuck was that play at the end of the game?”

Huh?

I blinked a few times and squinted at my phone.

“I scored the winning goal.” I was confused, thinking he’d missed the end of the game.

“Your brother had a clear shot. Why the fuck didn’t you pass to him?”

His words wouldn’t have hurt more if he’d physically slapped me.

Patrick. It was always about Patrick. To hell with me.

I was speechless. He’d always treated me as an afterthought, but he’d never stooped this low. I guess because I’d never stolen the limelight from Patrick.

I took a deep breath, attempting to control my anger after years of neglect and verbal abuse at the hands of this man. I failed.

“Fuck you, Dad,” I said and ended the call.

11

Cold Shoulder

Naomi

Paxton and I barely saw each other all day. Something had to be said about last night, but I was still figuring out what that something was.

After Coach announced my dad was buying pizza for the team, ravenous hockey players eagerly headed for the door. I noticed Kaitlyn hanging back.

“Aren’t you going?”

“No, I’ll meet up with Lex later. All this shit reminds me too much of my father. This isn’t about the team, it’s about them craving the limelight.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

“Enjoy your dinner. I’m outta here.” Kaitlyn ducked out the side door. I wished I could join her. I glanced around for Paxton. He stood off to one corner with his back to me. I walked toward him but stopped when I heard his words. Something was very wrong. He was defending his play to someone, but he’d played fantastic. Why would he have to defend that unless he was talking to his asshole of a father?

I didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping and backed away, just as my dad took my arm, not noticing my distress. He steered me toward the sidewalk with Patrick flanking him on his other side. I glanced over my shoulder, but Paxton was gone.

He’d played one of his better games tonight, and I was proud of him. I wanted to tell him and talk about last night, but reluctantly I went with my father.

We walked the short block to the restaurant. I allowed myself to be ushered to a table with my dad and Patrick. The remaining chairs were taken up by a few of the senior players.

I tried not to roll my eyes as Dad gave his opinion on each player’s game, and they hung on every word. It was disgusting how everyone groveled to him, even Patrick. No wonder Kaitlyn had ducked out on this. She hated it when her dad did this shit, too.

Patrick scooted his chair closer to mine. In the not-so-distant past, I’d have been flattered he was flirting with me, but I was too worried about Paxton.

I dissected Patrick’s behavior with a more cynical eye. There were only a few women in the room, so really no competition, and he’d been paying more attention to me since I’d slept with his brother. While I didn’t think he knew what had happened, something had changed enough in his eyes to spark a little sibling rivalry. The twins were competitive, and Patrick was used to getting what he wanted. Not that Pax was a complete pushover. I’d seen him stand his ground more than once, but he was more selective regarding his hills to die for, while Patrick picked every hill and wanted to win every battle and every competition—and he usually did.

My gaze slid to the door for the hundredth time, and this time my diligence was rewarded. Pax walked in looking like a dog beaten by its master. Only a few minutes ago, he’d been flying high after that game-winning score.

He paused in the doorway and swept his gaze around the room. Our eyes met briefly before he tightened his jaw and looked away. My heart sank as fast as a stone thrown in a stream. There weren’t any seats left at my dad’s table, or I’d wave him over. He skirted past me and joined Lex and Jonah across the room.

My sneaking suspicion regarding who’d been on that phone call earlier had to be correct. There was one person who beat Paxton down faster than anyone—his father.

He needed a friend, and I wanted to be there for him. Plotting my escape, I slid from my chair. Patrick had forgotten all about me and was basking in the praise my dad heaped on him. Meanwhile, my dad was in full hockey advice mode and didn’t even know I existed.

I walked to the soft drink station closest to Paxton. Doing a short detour, I snagged a nearby chair, sliding it between Lex and Paxton. Lex scooted over to make room.

“You can only listen to that bullshit for so long,” I said to no one in particular.

Paxton, deep in conversation with Jonah and Lex, nodded in acknowledgement. I waited for a lull in the conversation, which happened when a harried waitress dropped another pizza in the middle of their table. The guys grabbed for pieces like a pack of dogs. I sat back, afraid I’d lose a hand or fingers if I tried to snag one for myself.

Paxton took a bite and chewed. His gaze swung around to me.

“Great game tonight. That goal at the end of the game was wicked.” I flashed my most brilliant smile.

“Thanks.” He turned his head and regarded me with a hurt expression.

What had I done?

“Is everything okay?”

He frowned, picked up a napkin, and shredded it. I surely hoped he didn’t imagine me being