Fake Dating the Defenseman Next Door (Soltero Beach Scorpions Hockey #1)

16. Diego

sixteen

Diego

“ T hat was bullshit!” Leonid bursts through the locker room and sends his stick clattering against the stands. “We have to be better than that.”

“Sometimes, you do everything you can and the other team still comes out on top.” I huff out a breath. “But we were the better team tonight. The scoreboard doesn’t agree, but if the bounces had gone our way, it would’ve been a different story.”

“I say we head to Diego’s for a consolation party,” Max calls out. “Could do with blowing off some steam after a tough loss like that.”

“Oh, no, not tonight, boys.” I raise my hands up defensively. “Can’t be hosting weekly parties at my place anymore. I’ve got neighbors, you know.”

Someone snorts. “Yeah, one with an ass you’ve been tapping, by the looks of it.”

Blood rushes to my ears as I whip around and a hush falls over the rest of the dressing room. “Who the fuck said that?”

One of the young guns ambles to his feet, his chin tipped up at a cocky, defiant angle and eyes narrowed at me.

I look him over, his features familiar and his name just on the edges of my memory. We hadn’t been practicing in the same groups, but I’d played against him a bit. He’s got good hockey sense and some power, even if he wasn’t the strongest skater.

Shawn? Simon?

Oh. Shiloh Gagne. The sharpshooter from the left point. Another hot shot with a national leaguer dad who made waves during his heyday.

“She’s my girlfriend,” I say, voice dropping. “Maybe show a little respect.”

He shrugs. “You just had a party, but all of a sudden, some bird rolls through, pulls the plug on your equipment, and magically becomes your girlfriend overnight. Now she’s suddenly calling the shots? Who knew the famous Big D could be pussywhipped so fast? No wonder your game’s gone to shit. Spending too much time on your knees and not on your skates.”

A chorus of murmurs and objections sounds throughout the room, and Gavin steps in, blocking me from stepping up to the kid and quietly murmuring to Shiloh.

“He’s just talking shit,” Elias says, pulling back on my shoulder. “Trying to get under your skin just because he’s spoiling for a fight after tonight’s loss. Don’t give coach a reason to fill your roster slot.”

We’d been on the road tonight, a few hours out of town, playing the Riverside Renegades in an sold-out exhibition game. And even though we played better as a group, and I know I was better defensively, we still lost.

“Anyone else got something else to say to me about my game or my girlfriend?” I glare around the room, daring any one of my so-called brothers to speak. Most avert their gaze, dutifully peeling off their gear and keeping their mouths zipped. But when my eyes connect with Elias’s, I can see the question in them.

“Team dinner out sounds like a great alternative,” Leonid quips. “If you’re paying with that fat-ass signing bonus you got.”

I throw my dirty jersey at his head while he laughs.

“Veterans can all chip in to treat the young guns this time,” I say.

A collective groan from the veteran guys sounds just as the young guys whoop.

Later, Elias and I are alone in my Porche cruising through the tangle of freeways back to Soltero Beach. We’d opted to skip the bus to the arena in favor of driving ourselves. My fingers grip the wheel tight, as my thoughts churn, turning over the events of the last twenty-four hours.

“Tell me the truth,” I say with a sigh. “Has my game dropped significantly?”

Elias tips his head in my direction, considering. “I’d say you came in like you always do, a little rusty. But if you’re asking me if you’re less focused than usual, or if it’s taking you longer to get back into form, I’d say maybe a little.”

My jaw tightens. “Right. So, I’m distracted.”

“No, I didn’t say distracted. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I’ve seen you more focused.”

This should be comforting, but it feels more like placating.

“How do you feel you’re doing?” he asks, voice carefully devoid of judgment.

“I feel good. Healthy. Strong. My rituals are all back in order, with donuts back on the menu and my workout routine in place. I feel like I’m doing my best supporting Gavin in leading the team, and I’m taking my on-ice and off-ice roles seriously.”

Elias nods. “I’d agree. But stepping up into a leadership role you’ve earned is no easy thing. The pressure you’re feeling, the guys feel too. They watch you grind day in, day out. They saw how close we came last year and everyone knows we’re aiming to go even farther this season. The vibe in that room is heavy.”

“Yeah. It’s trickling down from the ownership through the coaching staff to the leadership team,” I say, reflecting on the endless conversations we’ve had about configuring the roster, line match-ups, and voicing opinions on who makes the cut and who goes home.

“I know what you’re asking of us is nothing short of what you’re asking of yourself, but what people look to you for is that levity. You love the game, Diego. You make it fun. Practices, games, on-ice, off-ice. You make all of it fun.”

I slant a look his way. “Losing isn’t much fun.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Getting turned down flat isn’t much fun either,” I say quietly.

“Ah,” Elias says, tongue pressing into his cheek as he tries to suppress a knowing grin. “I wondered when you’d come clean.”

“What, you knew Angie’s not really my girlfriend?”

“I’ve known you all my life, D. And girlfriend is a term you’ve systematically avoided using, so I guessed there was more to story.” He pulls out his phone and taps away on it. “Now Naya owes me fifty bucks.”

I shoot him a sideways glance as I maneuver the Porche through traffic. “You placed bets?”

“Just because she’s not your real girlfriend doesn’t mean you don’t have real feelings, though. And that, you can’t fake. You’re not that good a liar.” Elias flashes a grin. “I’ve watched you give her that same dopey-ass smile since we were kids and you got this donut-obsession ingrained in your head.”

“You can’t collect on that bet. I said she’s not my girlfriend… yet . If my dad and hockey have taught me anything, it’s that the game’s not over until the horn sounds.”

“You got a plan?”

“Yup. I’m going to bond the team together over more than just drinks, and I’m going to be the best damn partner Angie’s ever seen. Then she’ll have no choice but to call me up to the big leagues.”

“Boyfriend status?”

“To start.” I say. "Then eventually, husband status."

I don’t know what to expect walking up the steps to Soltero Beach High School’s entrance decked out in blue and yellow streamers and a huge Welcome Back, Alumni banner, but it’s next to impossible to tear my eyes away from the beauty waiting for me at the gates.

Angie is radiant in a silky blue dress that my fingers are itching to slide off her shoulders, just to watch it drop into a puddle at her feet. But all of that can wait.

Tonight, I have one goal.

Prove that I’m more than just the good time guy. I can be the man she can rely on. Day in, day out. It’s no different from doing my job on the ice because out there, I’m steady on the blueline. I step up when I’m needed and I answer the call of my coaches, my teammates. Even the demands of my dad.

Every. Fucking. Time.

If I need to sacrifice the body, I do it. If I need to take the shot, I do it. If I need to hustle my ass at top speed to prevent a hotshot ten years my junior from getting the puck, I will damn near kill myself trying.

And tonight, suited and booted to the absolute hilt, I’m planning on showing her that not only can I devote myself to her—I want to.

Because she’s worth it.

Her eyes light up the second she spots me, mouth curling into a soft, slightly unsure smile. The glow from the disco ball and projected multicolor lights dance across her curves and play along her skin.

“Hi,” she breathes. Her gaze slides over me, taking in the way this suit clings to me. “You look incredible.”

“I’m just trying to look good enough to stand beside you.” I pull her to me, tilt her head up and kiss her. It starts soft, sweet, but as my arms bind around her waist and I pull her to me, a banked heat builds between us. When it ends, her eyes are glazed over with want and she sags against me.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s important to you, so it’s important to me. Plus, we had a deal. I know I give dumb jock vibes, but I’m not fool enough risk my donut supply a second time.”

Her lips quirk up in a tremulous sort of smile.

“But that’s not why you were doubting me, is it?”

“I feel like we left things in a weird place the other day,” she confesses, nose scrunching up as she glances up at me through her lashes. “Are we okay?”

“Every couple has their moments,” I say, extending a hand to her. “Just like every team or individual faces challenges. What matters is how you come together to overcome them.”

Her mouth opens to respond, but there are people approaching and someone with a Hello My Name Is sticker waving at us to come through the gate.

Offering her my elbow, I lean in and wink. “Come on, Trouble, it’s showtime. Let’s show ‘em what you got.”