Capture the Moment (Moments #1)

6. Blake

six

Blake

“We just had to take Betsy today… No one ever listens to me when I say that piece of shit is going to fuck us up one day and now look.” Braxton throws his arms up in frustration. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d say Braxton was truly upset we were late for the first practice of the season. But… knowing the bastard, I can see a glint of excitement in his eyes. He’s loving this.

“Now, B. Don’t blame Cap for his junk of a truck… Blame him for his refusal to get the shit fixed.” I can hear the annoyance in Jace’s voice before I even look at him.

Jace and I have been having the same argument about getting Betsy, my 2004 GMC Acadia, “fixed” since freshman year when we were roommates on campus. Fixed in Jace’s words is “throwing that piece of shit into a compactor and having it rust out in a junkyard for all eternity.”

But how can I let Betsy go?

She’s been my car since I was 15 and barely knew how to drive. She’s seen me at my lowest when I got dumped by Tasha Arnold in Junior year and at my highest last season when Summerfield U won our second Frozen Four in a row.

I suppress a groan as the feeling of those evil green eyes burn holes into the side of my head. Jace may be the poster child for golden retriever athletes, but the man is scary when provoked, which is why he’s the perfect co-captain to my captainship this year. Never underestimate the artsy kids.

“If I knew we’d be this late, I would’ve told Vee she could stay over for a little longer.” Charlie huffs from the back of the truck and I sigh because here we go again .

Last night, we threw a party at our house. It was where Braxton swore off women for the rest of his life, Charlie met Victoria Milani and I met her . The thought of Cleo sends chills down my spine, and I groan as I remember never asking for her number. Hell, I doubt she even went to SFU; I would’ve noticed her from a lightyear away if she’d been a student here.

Fuck, I probably would’ve tried to fuck her by now if she did.

Maybe it’s a good thing that she doesn’t go here… Women are a distraction, one that I can’t afford this season. With Coach being on my ass after my shitty start last season and me being a prospect for the Washington Eagles, I can’t slip up this year.

Jace is like an angry Chihuahua, and I can feel his beady-eyed stare before our eyes connect.

“Who is she?” he asks for the thirtieth time since our welcome-back party last night.

“Who is who?” Braxton turns to us, looking up from his Uber app briefly.

“The girl that’s going to ruin our season if Blake doesn’t get his shit together.” The blonde sighs. Jace runs a hand through his golden waves and frowns as he continues studying my face.

“First off …rude . It’s my junior year and I’m captain, J. Have some faith in me. I’ve already sworn off girls for the season.” I shrug, lying through my teeth. Well, not completely lying… I have sworn off women.

Right now.

I just swore off girls, right now.

Only because in a way the golden boy is right. There can’t be any distractions this year if we want another championship under our belts and I refuse to go down the same path that I did last year after my nana passed away. I plan on being the best captain the Summerfield hockey team has ever seen.

That starts with getting our asses to the ice before Coach rings our necks out.

“You? Not having sex? Has the earth stopped spinning or some shit?” Alec laughs, coming around the front of the car with the rest of us. He props himself up on the hood of my truck and frowns as the sun blinds him momentarily .

“Look… Campus is about a ten-minute walk from here. We can talk about the logistics of my non-existent sex life later but for now, I’d rather not start the season with Jones on our asses.” I shrug as the guys groan before turning on my heels and starting my run to campus.

I can hear the rest of the guys behind me without looking back, their loud footsteps resemble a parade of elephants as they follow me to the rink.

“Sorry, Coach. Wilder’s car broke down on our way here.” Jace’s voice is hurried as he runs down the stairs of the bleachers with Alec, Braxton, Charlie, and me on his tail. The four of us were already in our practice clothes, our skates already laced with the guards on as we hopped down each stair carefully yet efficiently.

“Yeah, blame Blake, his car’s a piece of shit!” Braxton yells next and I want to murder him for adding extra emphasis on how crappy my truck truly is. I know it’s a crappy piece of metal but it's my crappy piece of metal. However, looking at Coach from up here, I know I can’t defend the truck.

“Blame me? Blame Betsy! She broke down on us . I didn’t do shit!” I exclaim as I make my way onto the ice, completely bypassing everyone and gliding over to the center line.

“The three of you can cut the shit and thank Daniels for your training method today,” Coach says, and though he’s talking to us, he is staring somewhere else. And it isn’t until I follow his gaze that I notice that we’re not alone on the ice today.

She’s here.

And boy does she look even better when I’m sober. Clad in a light pink outfit and figure skates, she looks like she stepped out of a Barbie wonderland. Her brown skin glows under the ugly florescent lighting of the rink and today her long black hair is pulled into a high ponytail, accentuating her soft facial structure. I’m at a loss for words as I stare at the plump pink lips from last night that tasted of strawberry and vanilla. The sight of her alone has my dick stirring .

Fuck me… I cannot get hard right now. My balls will be bluer than the sky. I want to say something…anything. However, before she or I can say anything, Coach beats us to it.

“Everyone, this is Cleo Jones. My daughter.”