Face-Off at the Altar Read online

  “Good, let’s do this.”

  He held his fist out, and Markus bumped his glove to it before he skated back into his spot. As the ref signaled the puck drop, Markus’s heart was pounding in his chest, rattling his ears as he waited. Keeping his feet moving, he watched as they lined up, and when the puck was won back to him, he passed it off to Jayden with ease. Jayden carried it before passing it hard up the side to where Vaughn was waiting, passing it to Titov, who was by the net. He shot, and the Devils’ goalie batted it away with ease. One of the defensemen stole it from Vaughn before sending it up to his forward, who was right beside Markus.

  Lifting his stick, Markus stole it, sending it against the board behind the net to Jayden. He, in turn, passed it up to Anderson as Markus rushed off the ice, going into the door of the bench as the next defensemen team, Jordie and Karson, went over the boards. Sucking in breaths, he reached for a Gatorade bottle, squirting some into his mouth before being smacked on the shoulder.

  “Great shift, Reeves,” Coach Baxter said into his ear. “Keep that shit up.”

  When a grin spread over his lips, he looked over at Jayden, who nodded his head, a smug look on his face. “Hey, I didn’t suck.”

  “You didn’t,” he laughed. “Told ya you’d do great.”

  “I’m pretty sure you said ‘Don’t fuck up.’”

  “I did. Same thing.”

  Not sure what to say to that, Markus sucked down some more Gatorade as he watched his team on the ice. The Devils had come to play, wanting to win their first game back too, but the Assassins were relentless on the goalie, firing shots left and right. When Patrick Franklin sent it back to Jordie, he shot hard, going right through the five-hole of the goalie.

  The place lost it.

  Markus stood up with his team, and they all cheered loudly as the arena sang the fight song. The boys came toward them, smacking their hands in congratulations of a good shift. The scorer, Jordie, skated by, a big grin on his face while he pumped his fist in the air, smacking everyone’s hands as he yelled out, “Let’s do it again!”

  Markus liked Jordie. He was a cool dude and he had the cutest little girl, but his wife, Kacey, was scary and hurt Markus. A lot. She was the best trainer he had ever had in his life, but he was pretty sure he could never do another burpee and live life happily.

  Tapping his hand, Jordie shot him a grin before pointing to him. “You’re next, buddy.”

  Markus laughed, but man, wouldn’t that be great. Hell, it didn’t even need to be today, it could be in a month and would still be the most amazing thing ever.

  “Reeves, Sinclair, go,” Coach called. Pulling his head out of the scoring cloud, Markus hustled over the boards and jumped back, skating backward as he watched the play happening before him. Everyone was trickling shots at the goalie, hoping for another goal. Skating to the point, he waited. His adrenaline was running on high, his heart was basically coming out of his chest, and all he could think about was the possibility of scoring.

  Damn Jordie.

  Stupid, wanting to impress Mekena.

  When the puck came toward him, he rushed to it, ready to pass it, but the same fucker he had lifted the stick on before lifted his stick and took off on a breakaway.

  “Fuck!” he yelled, and then he dug in, digging deep to catch him. Boy, was he fast. When he went to shoot, Markus laid out, swinging his stick, praying he only got the puck and didn’t trip the guy. Thankfully, he did, and the crowd lost it as Jayden got the puck and sent it up to Anderson, who carried it in as Markus got back to his feet before he rushed back up the ice, getting the puck as it was passed back to him. He passed it to Jayden, who passed it back, and then he faked a shot, pulling the goalie to the left before passing it right onto the stick of Vaughn, who shot top shelf right over the goalie and into the back of the net.

  Boom!

  “Attaboy, Reeves!” Vaughn called back to him as they wrapped up in a hug.

  “Great play, Reeves,” Anderson yelled, the volume of the crowd deafening.

  “Way to go!”

  Skating toward the bench after Vaughn, Markus tapped the gloves of his friends. As he rounded around, getting ready for the next puck drop, he looked to Mekena, but she wasn’t taking pictures. She was screaming her ass off.

  For him.

  And he decided this was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

  The Assassins won.

  Four to zero.

  It was a great game, and Markus was on the high of his life. The locker room was full of happy chatter as they all sat in their own spots, rehydrating and wiping off the sweat from the game. The sounds of the people cheering were still loud, and Markus was pretty sure he’d never come down from this high. He felt good. He felt at home.

  This was his home.

  When Coach came in, everyone clapped as he went to the middle of the room, though not on the Assassins’ mascot since, apparently, there was some rule about not stepping on it. It was bad luck. So of course, when they told him that, Markus avoided it like the plague. Even when Jayden thought it would be funny to push him onto it.

  He looked like Mr. Right trying to escape water.

  “Great game, boys. We have some things to work on, more shots on goal, for one, but let’s give a round of applause to Reeves for some great playing tonight,” Baxter said, and soon the room was filled with applause and cheers as Markus swore he turned every shade of red. Which was probably funny-looking on his dark skin, but he wouldn’t know because he was beaming like a fool. This was everything he wanted, and to get the recognition was really great.

  He couldn’t wait to tell Mekena.

  “Great game, Odder. And Jayden, great leadership. I’m happy. Really happy,” Baxter finished with a nod. “Now for the fun stuff,” he said, and everyone groaned. Markus had no clue what was going on. “Reeves, because it’s your first game, and, Johansson, ’cause you scored two goals and it’s your turn.”

  Markus looked to Jayden, who smiled. “What?”

  “Media.”

  “Oh, cool,” Markus said, but apparently, Vaughn did not think it was cool.

  “Didn’t I just do it?”

  “No, that was last season.”

  Vaughn made a face and then shook his head. “Fucking hell,” he muttered before getting up and heading to the door.

  In his underwear.

  “You don’t want to put on pants?” Markus asked as he hurried to catch up with him.

  “Nope,” he said simply as he walked down the hall with Markus on his heels. As much as he wanted to give the guy shit for walking around in just tight white boxers and his cup, he soon couldn’t speak. The lights of the media area blinded him, and when he saw the camera crew, his stomach flipped. Where was his excitement? Because now he was just nervous. What if he fucked up?

  When he heard the intake of a female breath, he glanced past Vaughn, who looked more and more like he wanted to off himself, to a very hot chick who was maybe five foot. She was itty bitty with big blue eyes and short blond hair. She wore a dress like Mekena would wear, long-sleeved and to her knees, with high heels. She was the size Mekena used to be too, thick, almost like Elli. And boy, was she pretty. Strong jawline and long, lush eyelashes.

  But she looked like she had been punched in the gut and wanted to be anywhere but there when her eyes settled on Vaughn. Markus swore he heard her mumble, “Fuck.”

  “Let’s get this shit over with,” Vaughn muttered, crossing his arms as he towered over who Markus assumed was the broadcaster. He hadn’t met her yet, but she was holding a mic, and when she held it to her mouth, he figured he was right.

  “Where are your pants? He has no pants on.”

  “What, sweetheart? My cock distracting?”

  She glared as some of the guys sputtered with laughter. “Considering half of that is the cup, I’m not the least bit distracted.”

  Vaughn’s eyes narrowed, but Markus’s eyes were as big as saucers as they glared at each other.