Scoring One Night (Blue Ridge Mountain Hockey #4)

Aspen

T hat was the oddest conversation I had ever had.

As I walked away from Melanie, I couldn't help but feel confused by her concern.

What was the big deal about us being friends and both working for the Devils? And why did she think it would be a problem for us professionally? I mean, sure, I thought she was gorgeous and gave her my signature wink, but that didn't mean we couldn't have a normal, professional working relationship.

I mulled over those thoughts as I made my way to the locker room, wondering why she was so worried about working with me.

The familiar scent of sweat and determination greeted me as I pushed open the locker room door. Laughter and conversation buzzed in the air, but it was Liam's voice that boomed over the rest.

", dude!" Liam slapped me on the back with enthusiasm, nearly sending me stumbling forward. "Last night at Castle Moat was epic!"

"Uh, yeah," I said, attempting to sound equally enthusiastic. Truth be told, my memory of the previous night was a blur of alcohol-fueled haze. I couldn't remember much, let alone how I'd managed to get home.

"Remember Jackson's sister's friend?" Liam continued, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "She was all over you, mate!"

I blinked as Liam's words sunk in. Daisy's friends were there? How did I not remember that?

Maybe that's why Melanie was acting strange.

"Daisy's friend was at the bar?" I chuckled nervously, wracking my brain for any recollection of the events. Nothing came to mind. How much had I actually drunk last night?

"Yes, uh, what's her name?" Liam grinned, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "Sophie something, I think. Maybe it was Sara?"

Relief washed over me. For a second, I thought Liam was going to tell me Melanie was at the bar.

"Sophia. Her name is Sophia," I corrected my teammate.

Liam snapped his fingers. "That's it. Yeah, but her other friend—" Liam started, but before he could finish, the locker room door swung open, and our coach marched in, followed by two stern-looking men in suits.

"Listen up, guys!" Coach bellowed, silencing all chatter in the locker room. "We have some special guests with us today." He gestured to the two suited men. "These are judges from the International Games."

A sudden hush fell over the room, punctuated only by the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. This was it; the moment I prepared for. Thoughts of Castle Moat or Sophia or Melanie drifted away.

I knew today's practice mattered more than anything before, so I wasn’t about to screw it up.

But my body didn’t agree with me. I broke out in a cold sweat thinking it was nerves from the judges' arrival.

It wasn’t nerves. It was last night's festivities, deciding now was the time to evacuate my body.

In my defense, I clenched my ass cheeks tighter than Cillian grips a pizza slice. But I wasn’t strong enough. Based on how my teammates reacted, a nuclear bomb would have been more welcomed than what came out of my butt while coach was introducing us to those judges.

The fart was loud, long, and had the aroma of a dead possum that'd been baked in the July sun for at least a week.

All heads turned to me, including the judges.

Here was my moment to put my newfound goal of adulting to work. To be mature and own up to the foul smell that had everyone covering their noses, some with sweaty socks, because that aroma was better than what was currently filling the air.

But in that moment, as everyone winced and a few dry heaved, I stood there and reacted not as how I should, but as I will always be... a coward.

I shrugged. "Wasn't me."

Everyone knew it was, indeed, me who dealt it.

"Come on, , we all know... Oh, for the love of god, please stop," Teddy said as he bent over, waving away the toxic fumes as I let another one rip.

Again, I tried clamping my cheeks really hard on that one. Really hard.

I even backed up, so my ass was pressing against an open locker. But that was the problem, it was open. So, the fumes escaped, anyway.

"The judges will be observing your practice and selecting candidates to add to a list for consideration for the International Games team!" the coach called out quickly before ushering the judges, and himself, out of the locker room.

A lot of the players followed. Many grabbed their gear to put on in the hallway.

In less than a minute, I stood there, alone. Just me, my gear, and the disgusting reminder of my failed maturity.

It took a little bit, but I got myself together before heading to the ice.

"Is that your plan? Poison everyone on the team so only you can get picked by the judges?" Liam joked, and other players started to laugh.

"Hilarious," I muttered, rolling my eyes at his attempt to be funny. "I'm never going drinking with you or anyone ever again."

Despite their jokes, my heart pounded in anticipation, knowing that today's performance could make or break my chances at the International Games.

"Alright, everyone!" Coach barked, clapping his hands together. "Let's show these judges what we're made of!"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the challenge ahead. My body felt a little sluggish from last night's festivities, but I refused to let that get in the way of my goals.

"Hey, ," Liam whispered, leaning over as we lined up for drills. "Despite everything, I just want to wish you good luck."

"Thanks," I muttered, taking another steadying breath. "You, too."

Liam shrugged. He had mentioned how he had no interest in getting on the International Games team. I wondered why, since that was the dream of just about every sports player I knew.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of practice, and I threw myself into the drills with everything I had. My legs burned with each stride, sweat dripping down my forehead as I pushed through my exhaustion and nausea. The puck seemed heavier than usual, but I refused to let it slow me down.

"Nice shot, Rivera!" Coach called, nodding approvingly as I sent the puck flying into the net.

"Thanks, Coach," I panted, trying to ignore the throbbing headache that threatened to derail my focus. The International Games meant everything to me—it was a chance to prove that I was more than just a small-town hockey player who partied a little too hard.

"Keep it up!" he encouraged, and I nodded, gritting my teeth and pushing myself even harder.

As the practice wore on, my thoughts drifted back to Melanie—to the little wrinkle that appeared between her brow when she frowned. I was surprised I noticed it. Usually, I was more focused on a woman's body, the curve of her body. But with Melanie, it was her expressions that caught my eye.

"Focus, ," I whispered to myself, clenching my fists around my stick. "Just a little longer."

The sharp scrape of skates against the ice echoed throughout the arena, sending shivers down my spine as I prepared for my next move. I could feel the eyes of the judges on me, but I refused to let that pressure get to me.

"Rivera, you're up!" Coach called out, and I took a deep breath, letting my competitive spirit take over.

"Watch this," I whispered to Liam as I charged forward, determined to prove my worth to everyone watching.

I executed a series of intricate maneuvers, blocking out any distractions and channeling my energy into each movement. The sound of my teammates' cheers fueled my determination, and I could almost feel the weight of the judges tapping on their tablets.

"Amazing work, !" Coach exclaimed as I finished my sequence, panting heavily but grinning from ear to ear. "Keep that fire burning!"

"Thanks, Coach," I replied, wiping the sweat from my brow.

"Here we go." Liam grinned, bumping his fist against mine as we took our positions for the next drill.

As we raced across the ice, executing a flawless one-two passing play, I couldn't help but think about Melanie and her insistence on keeping things professional. As much as I tried to focus solely on the game, she somehow found a way to sneak into my thoughts.

With the final whistle, the muscles in my legs screamed in protest as I gratefully skidded to a halt. As I raised my head, sweat dripping from my brow, a satisfied grin spread across my face.

"Damn, ." Teddy puffed out, skating up beside me. "You were on fire out there today."

"Thanks, Teddy," I replied, breathlessly laughing. "You did a great job, too."

We made our way toward the bench, each stride feeling heavier than the last. My body was spent, but my mind raced with anticipation. Did I do enough to impress the judges?

"Alright, Devils!" Coach yelled as we gathered around him. "That was one hell of a practice. Now, hit the showers and get some rest. We'll find out soon enough who caught the judges' eyes."

"Here's hoping," I mumbled under my breath, my stomach knotting with nerves.

As I stepped into the steaming hot shower, I couldn't help but worry about my actions last night. Things could have gone so wrong, so easily. It was stupid of me to go drinking.

That was it. Today proved that I needed to do my best because no one ever accomplished their dream by being mediocre.