Hockey Holidays Read online

  Ian’s size definitely gave him an advantage when his team was on offense. His height and reach allowed him to catch more than Bryan could block. The only thing he could do was be ready to grab a flag and pull it off before he could gain any more yardage.

  With each down, their competitive spirits grew. Bryan started to lunge for a flag and yank it more vigorously than required, and Ian started to throw his weight into his blocks. What was supposed to be a contactless sport was getting increasingly physical.

  On a particular play, Leonard was scanning the field to see who was open to receive. Bryan used his hockey instinct to deke, feinting to the right so he could lose Ian and run left. Bryan was open for long enough to Leonard to get the pass off to him, and just as Bryan’s fingers were closing around the ball, Ian dove toward him and reached for the it. Bryan covered the ball, pulled it in against his body to protect it, and turned away from Ian. He didn’t care if he got deflagged; he only wanted to complete the pass.

  But Ian had thrown himself too hard toward the ball, and he collided with Bryan full force. The hit knocked the ball loose, and Ian’s long wingspan allowed him to grab the ball and fall on it.

  Carol gasped as both guys fell to the ground. Rebecca muttered, “Sugar honey iced tea,” under her breath. Georgiana’s immediate reaction was to stand and yell at her brother, “It’s flag football, Ian! No hitting!”

  Meanwhile, Leo was celebrating. “Fumble! It’s our ball now!”

  Ian and Bryan stood up and brushed themselves off. They were uninjured, but Bryan was pissed. “Dude, you totally ran me over.”

  “Horse puckey, I was going for the ball. Totally legal.”

  “You had possession,” Leo said. “And then you lost it. It’s a fumble, and Ian got it. It’s our ball now.”

  “Because he literally knocked it out of my hands,” Bryan argued. “That’s not a fair play.”

  Ian smirked. “You’re just mad you dropped the ball.”

  “This is a friendly game,” Leonard said, his authoritative voice booming. “Another play like that, and you’re benched, son.”

  Bryan was still angry, but he was glad to have Leonard on his side. He wouldn’t engage in nepotism, because he believed in fair and just rules. Meanwhile, Ian was too set on making sure he wouldn’t get upstaged. If that was the game that he wanted to play, then Bryan could meet him on his level.

  Georgiana couldn’t believe that her brother would stoop so low for an innocent game of flag football between family. And even though Bryan wasn’t technically family, he wouldn’t be playing in the game if he weren’t someone very special to her. So the fact that he would plow into her boyfriend just to show off was insanely annoying.

  Growing up with four brothers, she knew how boys could get. Testosterone poisoning led to constant competitiveness and always wanting to show each other up. It didn’t bother her as much when it was kept within the family—but once her boyfriend got tangled up in it, they’d gone too far.

  And she knew that Carol wasn’t happy either. Georgiana could feel the anger emanating from her as she sat there, but she was keeping quiet. After all, what could Carol say? She was in hostile territory, the home of the enemy.

  At least Bryan wasn’t seriously hurt. She couldn’t imagine how the coach or general manager would react if their top defenseman got hurt in a so-called friendly game of football. She didn’t want to imagine what they’d say to her if they found out it was during a game at her house.

  She sat back down and stared straight ahead at the action in the yard. Georgiana didn’t want to chance looking to her right at Carol, in case that might invite conversation she didn’t want to take part in. Ian didn’t want to hurt Bryan, just prove that he was a better football player.

  Perry’s team huddled, planning their strategy after the turnover. Bryan and her dad’s team tried to shake it off, but Georgiana could tell how much it had irritated Bryan. Bad calls always bothered him more than they should have, because they happened all the time in pro sports.

  The lines formed, and Georgiana could feel the tension. She didn’t like it, but she watched the play unfold. Leo snapped the ball and ran forward, and Aidan did too. Ian, however, stayed behind the line of scrimmage. Perry tossed the ball back to him and then ran out to receive. It was a trick play.

  Leonard stayed to guard the new quarterback, and Bryan followed his dad out—keeping an eye on Ian all the while. He was too distracted by Ian to see that his dad was open, but he saw Ian throw the ball in that direction.

  Bryan went for the ball, determined to intercept to make up for the so-called fumble. Determined to make Ian look bad, to get back at him for his dirty play. Georgiana could recognize the fire in Bryan; he often had that look on his face on the ice.

  He was so focused on the ball that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings. He jumped and raised his arms to complete the interception, but when he landed and brought his arms down, his elbow slammed right into his father’s face, knocking his glasses to the ground.

  Perry took a few steps back and brought his hands up to his nose. The first thing Georgiana saw was the blood.

  Bryan didn’t even notice what had happened behind him. He took off running and went unchallenged, making it all the way into the end zone and beginning to celebrate before he turned and saw the commotion. His mother was on the field with his dad, and Georgiana was running toward them with a clean towel from the kitchen. Everyone else kept their distance, watching on from a half-circle as Perry was tended to.

  “Dad?” Bryan’s face fell as he dropped the ball and ran toward his parents. “You okay?”

  No one said anything. Georgiana held the towel up to Perry’s face and advised, “Tilt your head forward to help stop the bleeding.”

  “No, tilt backward,” Rebecca said.

  “No, forward,” Georgiana corrected. She’d seen enough of the Comets deal with nosebleeds to know how to handle it.

  “I think it’s broken,” Carol said, peering closely at Perry’s face. His nose was crooked, and he already had black eyes forming. “We should get this looked at.”

  “I can drive you to the nearest hospital,” Georgiana said, taking charge of the situation. She came to life in times of need, ready to seize control to manage and solve the problem.

  “Oh, shit,” Bryan muttered, finally realizing what had happened. And it was all his fault. “I’ll do it, I’ll drive.”

  Carol nodded, and she helped to guide Perry toward the kitchen door. Bryan picked up his dad’s glasses from the ground and followed behind.

  Georgiana trailed them, desperate to help but not knowing how. “I’ll come with you—”

  “No, it’s okay,” Bryan said, giving her a quick squeeze. “It’s my family, my fault. I’ll take care of it. You should stay here, with your family.”

  “But . . . .” The whole point of the holiday was to bring their families together, and the whole thing had been ruined. Nothing had gone as planned, and the day had turned into one giant disaster. Dinner was awkward, the “friendly” family football game had gone down in flames, and she hadn’t bonded with Carol at all. In fact, she was sure Carol hated her and her family after Perry got clobbered. The burning sensation of tears stung her eyes again. Had she ever cried so much before?

  “It’s okay, Georgiana,” Bryan said, kissing her forehead. “This shouldn’t ruin your plans. We’ll be right back.”

  She gave up. “Okay.”

  It was an accident. Of course it was. Bryan would have never done anything like that, to anyone in the game, but tempers had flared. He and Ian were athletes, raised playing a game, and they had trouble keeping that in check. It was unfortunate, and it shouldn’t have happened—but it had.

  Georgiana followed the Comstocks outside, watching as Perry and Carol got into the backseat of Bryan’s car, while he slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ll keep you updated,” he called out, before the car pulled out from in front of the house and sped off down the street.