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

Patience. I must practice patience. “You haven’t been studying, Trick?”

Patrick shrugged, unconcerned. I admired his ability to make light of the most serious issues, even though I worried he’d probably be in trouble when finals came around.

“He’s been studying the female anatomy,” Tate joked, and the table erupted in laughter.

“You might want to crack the books,” Paxton warned him, but Patrick blew him off and laughed.

“Stop nagging. I’ll just send you to take my finals. No one will ever know.”

Paxton scowled.

“I’m joking. Quit looking so disgusted with me.” Patrick gave his brother a soft punch in the air, drawing a smile from Paxton. I loved Paxton’s smile. It lit up the room. Since he didn’t smile as often as his brother, when he did, a person couldn’t help but notice. His smile spread sunshine on a rainy day.

I grinned at him, unable to stop staring. The smile slipped off his face when he caught me gawking at him. I wasn’t deterred. I shifted in the chair I’d wedged between Lex and him so our thighs rubbed against each other. He didn’t move away, but he avoided looking at me. I was getting to the man, and I’d continue my subtle campaign until I’d worn down all resistance.

The tension on Paxton’s face said it all. He was very aware of my thigh rubbing against his, as aware as I was, which was pretty damn aware judging by the wetness and tingling between my legs. A quick glance at Paxton’s crotch told me all I needed to know. He wasn’t impervious to me.

Call me evil, but I made a point of innocently rubbing against him every chance I got, leaning to talk to one of the other guys, moving closer to him, brushing my arm against his. When I reached for the pitcher again, my breast rubbed against his arm. He pushed his chair back and cleared his throat.

“I have to study,” he announced in a tone I recognized. I had him on the edge. If I followed him out of here, we’d be in bed in the time it took us to find a place to get naked. Paxton threw a twenty on the table.

Patrick shot him a surprised look. “Now?”

“Uh, yeah, see you guys tomorrow.”

“Bye, Pax,” I said in my most sultry I want you voice.

“Bye.” He backed away, tripped over a chair, and almost ran out the door.

Patrick chuckled and winked at me. “You’re getting to him.”

“You two seem to be getting along.” Every time I’d seen them together, they were laughing, giving each other shit, and enjoying each other’s company, like they used to. I was happy to see it.

“Yeah, we had it out last Sunday night. Cleared the air. Everything’s great between us.”

“I’m so happy to hear that.”

Patrick sobered and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “He misses you, Omi.”

“He does?”

“Yeah, he does. A lot. I can tell. I’m his twin. He’s more serious than usual. He might think he’s all about hockey right now, but you’re on his mind, too.”

“I made a mistake breaking up with him. I want another chance, but I don’t know how to go about it.”

“That’s why you’re hanging out with us and torturing the hell out of him?”

“Uh-huh. It’s that obvious?”

“Pretty much. We’re all enjoying it.” He indicated the guys at the table. “I don’t think Paxton sees things that way. He can be dense sometimes for such a smart guy.”

“I need something epic to convince him he’s the guy I want. My dad calls it a grand gesture.”

“Your dad is on board with this?”

“He is now.”

Patrick nodded and grinned. “A grand gesture. I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Try me.”

“Okay, this is what I’m thinking…”

We put our heads together, and I listened to his plan.

It was outrageous, frightening, and brilliant.

I didn’t know if I had the guts to do it.

But I had to.

40

Mischief

Paxton

For Friday night’s game, Coach had wanted to put us on separate lines, but I begged him to let us play on the same line to cement our rediscovered twinship. Coach Keller finally relented after Garf pointed out being on the same line was good for our chi. I had no idea what the fuck that was, but if it convinced Keller, I was all in.

Last night, Patrick had come home from the Biscuit an hour after me. Something was going on, but he just smiled this secretive smile and denied any mischief was afoot. But it was. I knew my twin, and we were back in sync. Just trust me, he said.

I backed off at that point. Despite my claims to be all hockey, all the time, the next twenty-some hours before the game, I’d alternated between hockey and Naomi.

She confused me. The signals she sent conflicted with her previous words. She made every effort to sit close and touch me every chance she got. Her presence drove me crazy, and the little vixen knew it.

As I warmed up for the game, Naomi was once again seated with the statistician. I forced my gaze away from her, but I was super aware of her presence and felt her eyes caress me as I warmed up.

Patrick skated up to me and gave me a poke with his stick. “Head in the game, bro.”

“I…I know.”

He winked at me and skated away to offer words of encouragement to other teammates. Patrick was a good captain, a far better one than I’d ever be. Captains spent so much time keeping the team in line and dealing with player issues. I just wanted to play hockey, but my brother loved being in charge. He was welcome to it as far as I was concerned.

Patrick and I were in each other’s heads from the first puck drop. We played like a well-oiled team along with our line mates. Not only had we repaired our relationship but Patrick trusted me more with shooting opportunities, not keeping the puck for himself or expecting me to pass every time. We