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

Naomi, I felt sorry for myself. I didn’t have anyone.”

“You have half the female population of Moo U.”

“It’s not the same. You know what I mean.”

“You’ll always have me,” I said quietly, but he heard me. His eyes were suspiciously wet, and he swiped angrily at them with his shirt sleeve.

“And you have me. You’re my fucking brother, my twin. You’re all I’ve got,” Patrick croaked.

“We sure as fuck don’t have our dad.”

“He’s an ass.” Patrick’s blue eyes were filled with grief and sadness. “I miss our mom.”

“So do I.” My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I forced them back.

“I’ve been an ass, and I’m sorry.”

“I get it. I really do. It’s hard when things change that are out of your control. I should’ve discussed what Coach wanted. We could’ve formulated a plan.”

“I didn’t understand how I was keeping you down. I never meant to. You’re my brother, and I’d do anything for you. I’d have helped you.”

I knew that now. “I love you, bro,” I said in a choked voice.

“I love you, too.”

“You’re fucking crying,” I accused even as a sob escaped my own mouth.

“I am not fucking crying. You are.”

“I am not. Your face is wet.”

“From sweat, you moron,” Patrick insisted.

“Right.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Next thing I knew, we enveloped each other in a bear hug. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stem the flow of the very tears he’d accused me of.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll kick your ass.”

“I’ll kick yours.”

“One other thing, if you’re playing for the Sidewinders next year, I’m going to wipe the ice with your face.”

“I’m counting on you trying, but that’s all it’ll be.”

I threw back my head and laughed. Arms around each other’s shoulders, we dragged our weary bodies into the locker room.

39

The Plan

Naomi

After my conversation with my dad, I did some soul-searching. I’d always been one who went where the wind blew me, tried so hard to please my father, and did what I thought I should, instead of what I truly needed. I’d never been honest with myself. I saw that now.

Being honest with myself, this wasn’t about Dad as much as it was about me. I shouldered more of the responsibility than he did. Somewhere deep down, I’d wanted Patrick because he was the star of the team. It’s every girl’s dream to date the big man on campus, and that big man was our hockey team’s captain and top scorer. I’d been so intent on pursuing Patrick, I hadn’t seen the wonderful guy right under my nose. Paxton had always been there to comfort and listen, even to my pining for his brother. I hadn’t wanted to see Pax’s interest in me went beyond friends until it was thrown in my face, and I was unable to deny the truth.

Did Pax and I have a future? Should I fight for him? Or should I let him concentrate on hockey? Was I deluding myself to think he could do both?

What did I really want?

Right or wrong, I knew what I wanted. I wanted another chance. I’d prematurely broken up with him, concerned he was about to dump me, and he had been.

We’d succumbed to the pressures of everyone else’s opinions, rather than searching our hearts for the truth. He hadn’t asked me about Patrick and me hugging, and I hadn’t given him a chance.

I wouldn’t be a coward any longer. For starters, I hang out with the team again. I’d finish off my internship by taking stats for the final game before break.

Then I’d develop a plan.

A grand gesture.

Something to show Pax I was serious and in this for the long haul if he was.

While I debated on my options to win Paxton back, I took advantage of every opportunity presented to be around him. Even though he attempted to sidestep me, I didn’t let it happen. I sat with Paxton and his twin in the dining hall. I joined the team at the Biscuit a few nights that week. My studying suffered, but I had my priorities, and I’d cram after the last hockey game before finals.

The twins were getting along again, and I was heartened by that. The tension was gone, and they were giving each other shit like they always had.

Thursday night I went to the Biscuit, stalking Paxton. He was there with some of his teammates and Patrick. I walked up to the table and grabbed a chair. Kaitlyn arched a brow in my direction as I motioned for Lex to move over and make room between Paxton and him. Pushing my chair into the spot, I sat down and smiled at Paxton, who studied me quizzically.

“Hey, Pax, how’re you doing?” I said brightly and flashed one of my most endearing smiles at him.

“I’m good.” He met my gaze for a moment, and I saw regret, longing, and uncertainty in those blue eyes I loved so much. My campaign to win him back was progressing nicely. I’d proceed with caution, fearing Paxton might be gun-shy at this point.

“Are you ready for finals?” I asked.

“Is anyone ever ready for finals?” His smile warmed my heart and gave me hope I might be on the right track.

“Maybe not.”

“Finals? What’s that?” From the other side of Paxton, Patrick snorted and saluted with his beer.

“You might want to figure it out before next week, bro,” Paxton warned, but he clinked glasses with his brother. I reached across the table to fill my glass from the pitcher. My arm touched Paxton’s, and I froze. So did he. I saw him swallow, and that muscle ticked in his jaw. I was getting to him and vice versa. One simple touch through our clothes set my body on fire. I briefly debated abandoning my campaign to win him back for a more direct approach—dragging him into the back room, ripping off his clothes, and fucking any doubt about us right out of him.

The moment passed, and I reined in my libido.