And I miss it.

Fanning over the puck, not only making myself look dumb but also pissing my dad the hell off.

“What in the Sam Hill, Moore? Simple pass! Get your head out of your goddamn ass and play!”

Biting into my lip, embarrassment floods my face as I nod slowly. I don’t even try to explain myself because there is no excuse, but I do know that everyone is just eating that up. They want me to fail, but I won’t. Little hiccup. No big deal. I look from my dad to look at, hell, anything but Jayden, but somehow our eyes meet. His eyes are dark, holding mine as he slowly shakes his head. I don’t know what the fuck that means, but within seconds, my embarrassment is gone and only white-hot anger is there.

Who is he to shake his head at me?

Lining up for the next drill, I refuse to fuck up and I don’t. Not even the next four plays, and I feel back to normal. When Jayden rushes the puck up the middle, past the forwards and defense, I follow up behind him for support, but he doesn’t need it. He has a clean shot, or so I thought. I don’t see the defense rushing his left, and before I know it, he’s dropping the puck off to me. I take it, wristing it right over the goalie’s left leg pad.

It is a beauty of a play.

“Attagirl, Moore,” Jayden says in a way that I somehow confuse with sex.

Looking up, I watch as he sends me a nod before skating off.

What happened to not talking to each other?

And why are those two simple words giving me butterflies?

Damn it!

When practice is over, I look up at my father as he looks down at me, shaking his head. While I thought I did okay, he apparently has decided I sucked ass.

“You think you’re gonna get captain with that performance? Shake the nerves, Bay, that’s fucking ridiculous.”

I look down, mortified, as I nod. “Yes, sir.”

“What the hell happened? You were sloppy, not disciplined, and I’m pretty sure that’s the worst I’ve ever seen you play.”

Shrugging my shoulders, since that’s probably not true, tears still sting my eyes. I can’t admit why he might even be kinda right. Hell, I won’t even admit it to myself. “Just rusty, I guess.”

“Rusty, eh? I’ll fucking knock that rust off! Tomorrow, six a.m., we’ll be on the ice.”

Camp doesn’t start until eight, which means I’ll be going to bed as soon as I leave this place. But he’s right. I fucked up. Gotta pay the price. “Yes, sir.”

“Go, get out of my face,” he yells before turning and throwing his clipboard across the ice. It’s easy to say he’s a little intense about hockey, and I know he should be. Still, it doesn’t make getting yelled at any better. As I skate toward the boards to get off the ice, he yells, “How am I supposed to back up that you’re the best when you perform like that?”

Looking back at him, I say, “You’re not.”

“That’s right, and believe me, I won’t say it again until you prove it to me.”

“Yes sir,” I answer again. “Tomorrow will be different.”

“It better fucking be,” he yells and I turn, getting off the ice to head to the locker room.

My dad may be hard on me, even a bit mean, but it’s for the best. I need to be pushed, I can’t get sloppy, and if I’m honest, that’s what I was today. I’m not one of those girls who cries because Daddy is hard on me. I crave it because I’m not perfect. He told me all the time as a child that it’s okay to think of myself as a glow stick because you have to break them to make them shine. And that’s what he’s done to me. He’s broken off all the things that could hold me back and has allowed me to shine.

I can’t let him down.

Today though, I allowed Jayden to throw me off my game, and that can’t ever happen again. He won’t be there to support me when I’m a crying ball of mess because I don’t make the NHL. No, he’ll be playing, so why should I allow him to fuck with my game? As I fight back the tears, since disappointing my father is the one thing I refuse to do, I try to push away my nervousness. I thought the nerves were eating me up before, but as I get closer and closer to the locker room, my heart is sure to come out of my chest. I’ve never had to share a locker room with guys before, and I’m not sure what to expect.

When I reach the door, I can hear the guys in there laughing and cutting up. Sucking in a breath, I go to push the door open, but before I can, Dad is brushing by me, slamming the door back and then entering the room, causing the guys to fall silent. Following behind him, avoiding all eye contact, I go to the spot by the door that has been assigned as my locker.

“Another thing,” Dad yells through the locker room. “I forgot to tell you boys this earlier, but Moore will be sharing the locker room with you and she will live in the same house with you. Do I approve of this? No. Will I kill anyone who touches her? Yes.” He lets that sink in and then says, “That’s it. See you boys bright and early. Eight a.m.”

As Dad leaves, everyone turns to look at me. Since some of the guys are already naked, I put my head down as I fall onto the bench before reaching down to take off my skates.

“How the fuck do they expect us to share our space with this cunt?” I hear someone say, and I close my eyes, undoing my skates.

“What? Scared I’ll make fun of your small dick?” I say with as much gusto as I can manage.

Everyone starts to laugh, but then it just goes silent. Looking up, I see Jayden standing in front of me, his hands on his hips. But his eyes aren’t on me, he’s looking at the team. “Let’s get one thing straight. Like Coach said, she is part of our team. Do we call our teammates cunts? No, we do not,” he says, his voice carrying through the locker room. “We will not treat her like a pariah. She is our sister, I guess. We take care of what is ours, and if I hear one more person call her something derogatory, I will take you out.”

No one says anything, and all I can do is gape up at him. Snapping my mouth shut, I say, “I don’t need you to defend me.”

He nods, looking back at me. “You’re right, but this is my team, and they won’t disrespect their teammates.”

“It’s not your team,” I say, standing up. “Not yet.”

He scoffs, his eyes burning into mine as he crosses his arms across his very chiseled chest.