Delayed Penalty (Empire State Hockey #5)

Chapter 3 – Harris

Chapter Three

Harris

“ A gain, you guys. But I want you to actually fucking try this time,” our coach shouts from the side, forcing us to bag skate since half of the team decided to slack off during practice this morning.

It may be the end of the season, but our coach doesn’t care. It could be the last game of the year, or hell, even a quick skate after the final game and if we fucked off, he’ll make us pay for it. In this moment right now, I kind of hate him for it, but he’s never let anyone slack off.

He always makes us earn our success, and for that I’ll always be thankful for him. Nothing is ever too easy, but damn, when we get those wins or we make the shot we have always dreamed of, it always feels so much more exciting than if it just happened randomly.

But right now, I’m fucking tired and sweaty and just want to be home and demolish the leftover Chinese food so I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out. I haven’t been sleeping the greatest ever since the night at the bar when we ran into Avery and her sister, because all I’ve been able to do is lay in bed and think about her.

I miss her. Fucking dammit… I miss her so much.

It’s like the second I saw her, I forgot she cheated on me with her now fiancé. I forgot that when I went to go talk to her dad and ask his permission for his daughter’s hand in marriage I was met face to face with my assistant coach. I didn’t know it at the time, but apparently he’s Peter’s dad, which explains why he had the pictures of Avery and Peter embracing, her arms wrapped around him while he looked down at her smiling. It was even more heartbreaking being told that neither of them wanted to even speak to me.

It felt like I was being left behind without a second thought.

Coach blows his whistle. “Get off my ice and go get changed. We leave tomorrow for our last few away games and I’ll be damned if I let y’all embarrass me like you tried to at the start of practice. We are a damn NHL team, for Christ’s sake, not a beer league full of dads and has-beens. Fucking skate like it.”

We all skate off the ice, the group of guys who caused Coach's bad mood leading the way. They’re the young guys who go out and party too much and come in hungover thinking they can half ass practice and get away with it.

It’s like they don’t realize there’s a team full of guys just begging to be called up, and Coach would have no problem sending a guy down if they aren’t proving their worth. The guys and I have been on this team long enough that we not only respect the coach, but hell, we respect the sport.

Sure, we fuck off every now and then—I mean, who doesn’t. Hell, I’ll be the first to admit that every once in a while I make a joke or two… or a few too many, but who’s counting. In all honesty, tell me what part of life isn’t made a little bit better with a laugh or a smile.

But just because I like to enjoy myself and make those around me happier doesn’t mean I don’t know how to take my job seriously. I’ve worked my entire life to be on this ice, starting when I was just a kid learning to skate. It’s how I became one of the best defensemen in the league. I love being on the ice, I love helping out Cade, or Stewart, when he’s in the net.

I’m blessed to be able to get on the ice for a career and I’ll be damned if I take it for granted—which is a lesson these guys need to learn and if our coach can’t get through to them… I will.

I’m all happy-go-lucky, as long as everyone does their fucking jobs. When they don’t do their jobs, then we can’t have fun and that’s when I get annoyed.

“That was fucking brutal,” Miles says as he sets his skates down and starts getting undressed. “I don’t think I’ve sweat this much since my mom had me reroofing my grandma’s house in Texas in the middle of fucking August.”

“Yeah, he was definitely on one today, but Maxwell and Connor did quite a stand-up job of pissing off Coach when they were incapable of scoring a goal on an empty net.”

“They’ll figure it out. The early days can be rough when you’re figuring out how to balance it all. We all remember when we were rookies and just learning what freedom, money, and women were all about.”

“I mean, I guess. But I don’t remember being that stupid when I was their age,” Trevor mumbles as he heads to the showers.

“Not everyone had their dad as their coach who would whoop their asses into shape if we stepped out of line,” I grumble.

“Facts.” Trevor laughs.

It doesn’t take long until we are all changed and packed up from practice, I’m doing my best to hurry back to my apartment because I’m absolutely starving and am dying to get back to the leftover Chinese food from yesterday.

“How’s everything been going with Anna?” Miles asks.

“Avery. Her name is Avery,” I snap, annoyed that he’s incapable of remembering her name when it’s the only name I’ve been able to think about. It’s the name I’ve said every single night while gripping my cock wishing it was her stroking my dick until I come. Based on the smirk on Miles’ face, he knows damn well what her name is and is just giving me a hard time.

Fucking asshat.

“That’s right. But that doesn’t tell me how everything’s been going? You two seemed like you were catching up,” Miles adds as we walk out of the locker room, Trevor and Cade already gone ahead of us.

“I was definitely trying to catch up with her, but she was… well, let’s just say she was making it extremely difficult.”

“Why do you say that? I mean, it didn’t seem like that from my end. Every time I glanced over she was sneaking looks at you that definitely didn’t seem like she was unbothered—or plotting your demise—but I could be wrong. I thought you said it was you who ended everything, is it possible she’s just not interested in you?”

My eyes snap to him, not expecting the harshness of his words toward her when, even after everything that happened between us, I’ve never once hated her. She’s just always been the one that got away, or stolen… the one that was everything, until she wasn’t. The one my heart just never could completely shut out, leaving the door unlocked for her, just waiting for her to come back to me.

But even then I know it’ll take a miracle because she’s engaged to him.

Which, based on the fact that she was still wearing that atrocious ring, she still is, so why am I wasting my time?

“Two things. First, let’s not be a dick just because you don’t have feelings unless they involve yours. Second, she was looking at me?” I ask, unfortunately unable to hide the hope in my voice as pathetic as I sound.

He just raises his eyebrows at me before laughing.

“I always knew you were a fucking simp.”

“Fuck off, just because I don’t bring a new girl home every night like you, it isn’t a bad thing.”

For a moment, I think I see a flash of hurt in his eyes like I’ve offended him, but it’s quickly overtaken by his usual carefree grin.

“Don’t hate just because you’re jealous. Besides, if you’re not hung up on this girl, wanna come out on a double date with Samantha and Emily? They’ve been asking for us to go out with them and when I saw them at the bar last night, I told them I would try to convince you.”

“I…” I start, but what do I say? Do I want to go with? No. But why not? Is it Avery? Hell, it’s been actual years since I’ve been the playboy everyone makes me out to be. I’m a flirt, I love to talk to women, and don’t get me wrong, even I’m aware it usually comes off as flirting. But the likelihood of me taking any of these women home is slim to none.

But then there’s Avery. Running into her one night and she’s completely overtaken my mind. Should I text her? I mean… she didn’t believe me when I told her I remembered her phone number but truthfully, it’s always been in my phone and I couldn’t ever bring myself to delete it. It wouldn’t have matter if I did, though, because I’ve had it memorized since the first day she gave it to me. I just didn’t want to tell her all of this and seem desperate.

If she wanted me, she would have chosen me. But now? That light I used to see in her eyes—that showed me just how happy she was—has been dimmed, and that alone is worrisome. Enough so that I know I’m going to text the girl.

“Look. Let me reach out to Avery first… see what’s going on in her life and if she’s still happy, then maybe I’ll go with you. But if she’s not… I’m definitely going to see if I can get it to work this time.”

“Even after she cheated?” Miles asks, almost surprised as we finally make our way to our cars.

“For her, I’d forgive just about anything, as long as it’s me she’s choosing now.”

“Damn.”

“What?” I ask.

He just shakes his head, a little chuckle as he throws his bag in his car. “You’ve got it bad, brother. Let me know, though. I told them I’d text them tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

With that, I get into my car and finally pull out my phone, my fingers hovering over her name.

“Fuck me,” I grumble as I throw my head back on my seat.

What the fuck do I really have to lose? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Avery, and even then I’ve only seen her one time since we were together and it was for all of a couple of hours. It’s been even longer since I’ve held her or kissed her, so if she turns me down, I guess I’m not really losing anything.

Hey, Avery. It was good catching up with you the other day. Would you want to grab another drink sometime?

The second I press send and take a deep breath, the sign of relief is short lived as it immediately gets marked as read … and then nothing.

Hours later, after I’ve made it home, done my laundry, and finally sitting down to have dinner, I look and see that I have text messages, but all of them are from my friends and my family… Avery still left me on read.

Which is what has me sending a text to Miles.

Fuck it.

I’m in.

Miles

We’re back baby.