“When I pass you the puck, you put your stick down and stop it!”

Looking across the ice at me, she yells, “I know you aren’t talking to me.”

“You’re the only person on this ice missing my passes, so yeah, I am talking to you.”

“You’re delusional,” she snaps, and then she is skating toward me. Everyone has stopped, probably to watch the show. We’ve been at it all day. I mean, the crazy chick tried to check me. I’m on her fucking line! She’s fucking insane. Looking up at me through her cage, her eyes in slits, she screams back, “How am I supposed to stop a pass that is above my head? Or even ten feet away from me?”

“Get in front of it! You’re just standing there. Like a fucking princess, expecting everyone to just cater to you. You have to work around these parts, sweetheart. We don’t cater anyone.”

“Princess!” she sputters, and, of course, that’s the only part she hears. “The only fucking princess I see is you. By the way, maybe you should wear pink instead of teal.”

“You would know all about colors, huh, princess? Being a girl and all,” I snap back, when really, I don’t even know why. It wasn’t a good retort, but then I say, “You’ve been fucking up all day. I’m your teammate, treat me like one, or get the fuck out of here.”

“You don’t know shit. If you want me to treat you like a teammate, act like one instead of fluttering around and swinging your stick everywhere!”

“Fluttering? Not your teammate? I’ve been your teammate since the moment you stepped on my ice! I don’t know what you’re thinking, but stop being a girl and act like the dude you keep trying to portray.”

“I’m not portraying anyone. I’m being me.”

“Princess, you’re so far from being yourself, it’s scary. Play the fucking game,” I say before shaking my head. Her eyes are blazing, and I know mine are too. There is so much tension between us and I know it’s about to burst, but what can I do? I can suggest something because, in my mind, I’ve already ripped off her helmet and kissed her, but I know if I try that, she’ll knock my teeth out.

“Fuck you,” she seethes just as the whistle is blown.

When Coach comes up beside us, we don’t break our intense stare-off as he says, “Well, apparently, there is some animosity here. And yeah, I like it. I like the drive and the fighting for your position shit, but yeah, this is not the place for a screaming match.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re fighting with a girl, there is no other way of talking out your issues other than screaming,” I say, and her eyes slit even more.

“Well, you would know, being the biggest bitch on the ice,” she says, and I swear, why did I want to fuck her again?

Chuckling, Coach shakes his head. “Well, I guess you two will be doing laps for the rest of practice. Burn off some steam. Go,” he says and then blows the whistle, but we don’t move.

I’m not moving until she does, but then I can see she isn’t going to move until I do.

“You’re so intent on beating me, yeah?”

“Oh, there is no contest,” she snaps back, and the fire in her eyes has me feeling all kinds of ways.

“Laps!” Coach yells, and I actually do jump. “Now!”

Tearing my gaze from hers, I turn and start my laps. I know they are to cool me down, but of course, she tries to pass me, and then all of a sudden, we are racing.

I know.

It’s downright pitiful, but what can I say?

I can’t let her beat me.

When practice is over, though, I wish I had just let her beat me because I basically crawl into the locker room, lying across the bench.

Laughing, Markus says, “Man, Moore is gonna make you work for that spot, huh, Jay?”

“Fuck off, Markus,” I grumble, closing my eyes.

Markus then taps my back as Shane says, “She’s giving you a run for that money though. She’s a fast little shit.”

“For sure, she’s good too,” Kuntz says and I nod.

“Too good,” I say in agreement, shaking my head.

“Who would have thunk it?” Blomqvist says. “A girl, that good.”

“She isn’t a girl,” I decide. “She’s a hybrid.”

“Fuck you,” I hear her say then, and I wave my hand.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter as I watch her little pink toes walk by.

Brat. But even if she is, I get up and crawl to the shower door to make sure no one goes in. It’s been three days, and everyone’s been pretty compliant, except for McCarthy. He bitches every day about it, but no one is going in there while she’s in there.

“She didn’t beat you, don’t worry,” Jace says from my left, and I nod.

“Thanks, but she almost did.”

“Oh yeah,” he agrees. “If Coach wouldn’t have blown that whistle, she would have.”

I know, but before I can say that, McCarthy is running his mouth.

“Are you doing this to impress her, Sinclair?”

Shaking my head, I let a breath out of my nose. “I don’t try to impress anyone but scouts.”

“Then shit, you’re nuts. I’d never work that hard for pussy.”

He’s got to be the dumbest idiot I’ve ever met. I played with him on my travel team, and I’ve never really liked him. He’s a dick and almost always has something dumb to say. The best thing to do is ignore him, but apparently, Jace doesn’t know that.

“He isn’t trying to fuck her, asshole. He’s trying to show her he’s the best, and in my opinion, he is,” Jace says. “You couldn’t hold a candle to Jayden, and if he wanted to fuck her, he could. That’s why you’re always trying to mess with him. Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?”

“Your brother couldn’t fuck a sheep, you little puss,” McCarthy spits back, and I really don’t want to move but I know I have to.

Sitting up, I look up at McCarthy, ready to tear into him, but before I can say anything, Coach calls out, “Sinclair, can I see you in my office?”

Jace points to himself. “Me or him?”

Coach points to me though. “Him.”

I stand then. Do I leave or do I tell him to wait? Fuck. “Yes, sir.”